Sept 7, 2014
Time: 11:01:57
AG Place 11 of 210 finishers (227 starters)
Overall Place 217 of about 2800
Race for Tim
In this essay, I will not shy from talking about the effect
Timothy had on my race, but I will not talk about what Timothy meant to me and
still does. I do not have the words for
that. I had a lot of time to think about
him and the rest of my family while training, and perhaps that was at times a
refuge.
This is the story of how I tried to approach things this
summer and on the day, honoring his memory and what he stood for.
Training
It is surprise to no one reading this that this was not a
normal training year.
Timothy’s death at the end of June while training on the
bike was life-changing. But this was
already an unusual year from the perspective of triathlon training. Over the winter, I would normally have worked
hard on building bike and run speed, but this winter I spent getting ready to
run the Boston Marathon in an attempt at a PR time. As such, I spent minimal time on the bike and
none swimming. I had a small injury shortly before Boston, and gambled during
the race that I was still in top shape.
While I got a modest PR despite going out what turned out to be too
fast, the last 10 miles of the race were difficult and it took me most of a
month (i.e., until about May 20) before I was really back in training shape.
My original plan had been to be very bike focused for
roughly mid-May through mid-July. Even as I dropped into the meat of my
Endurance Nation race specific plan, I planned to mentally focus on the bike
and simply maintain the run. For the
swim, I would try to do well through some frequency, but I was not going to
overtrain the swim at the expense of the bike.
In June, I was doing an FTP ride, a 110% FTP ride, and a long ride. In this, and most of what I was doing, I got
guidance from the EN crew, and Patrick McCrann in particular.
After Boston, I was starting from pretty much ground zero,
FTP-wise, about 225 W, somewhere around 3.3 W/kg. By the time of Timothy’s accident, I had
gotten in better bike shape, but not dramatically improved the outdoor
FTP. I had expected that would come in
the next few weeks.
After the accident, many things were hard. Aside from the psychological difficulties of
training, I had difficulties that I am convinced were physiological. On the bike (and swimming), it was as if I
had a “governor” that put an upper limit on how hard I could go no matter hard
I tried. On the bike, that was between
200 and 225 watts. On the run, the perceived exertion going fast was completely
disproportionate. My heart rate would
skyrocket when running fast at all. I
simply could not do things that I normally might have.
As I gradually decided that I would continue training for
Ironman, I made a few decisions, all of which had a common theme of working at
above race effort but below the usual “hard” levels that were giving me trouble.
- Swimming: I would do more kicking (with a snorkel, not a board) than I have previously because I thought it was helping my body position. I found that pulling with a parachute once or twice a week was a great way to get in work that was harder than race pace, but not as stressful (and difficult) as threshold sets.
- Running: At first I was simply forced to just “put in the time”. My easy pace is a bit faster than it might be according to the VDOT performance charts. Until the ability to run fast came back, I would do everything by perceived exertion. “Fast” would just mean “feels like fast”, not “actually fast”.
- Biking: I did a lot of cycling in the basement. I did a couple of 5-hour trainer rides because I just felt more comfortable there for a while. But long bike rides in the basement do lend themselves to sustained moderate power efforts.
In July, we also needed to focus on one another as a family,
and that meant me not taking 6 hour training days. I had a total of two 5-hour rides in July,
but I did get in a couple of weeks with two long runs of 2 hours or more to try
to build up durability in a more time-efficient manner.
In August, I was doing better physically, but it was too
late to build up any speed; it was all going to have to be about taking
whatever speed I had and stretching it.
I was back on track with the normal training pattern (typical week of
Thursday long run, Saturday long ride, Sunday medium ride). I already knew my bike wattage target for the
race would have to be no more than 160 W normalized power. Four weeks out, I
did a 3-day volume weekend (two long rides followed by a long run), and I hit
long rides of 120 miles three weekends in a row. On each of the long rides (except a race
rehearsal), I focused on riding 10-20 watts higher than goal wattage for long
periods, knowing I was just trying to salvage things and make my race ride
“easy”. My long runs topped out at 2.5
hours for 18 miles. Fortunately, my
ability to run fast gradually returned and I felt much better about that.
And then it was time to taper. Doing a last long ride (120 miles) two weeks
out was scary, but it was what the plan called for. This one was “trust the
plan.”
In the meantime, I spent a lot of effort trying to figure
out how to squeeze every bit of speed out of my very modest wattage. I tweaked my fit a bit to get as aggressive
as I could and I trained to be a bit uncomfortable. (I have about 15 cm drop and ride 165 mm
cranks.) I changed where my water bottle was, and I spent time thinking about
biking technique, as you might do for swimming.
(I kept thinking to myself how T would play keeper in soccer… taking
advantage of what he could do well and just sticking with it….trying new things
when warranted, but above all trying to be smart.) How much difference all this made, I do not
know exactly, but I ended up with an ok bike split despite poor strength.
Race Plan
Above all, I wanted to race “smart”, and I realized this
meant conservatively.
My swims in the pool had been going well. If I just swam straight and kept my head
together, it would take care of itself.
On the bike, I would hold a strict 160 W NP, which is 71% of
225 W. I knew that with this relatively
low power and this hilly course, my VI would be higher than it should be, but I
hoped to keep it to 1.05-1.06. I had
learned that to complete a 6 hour ride and not feel dehydrated at the end, I
needed to consume 2.0-2.5 quarts of fluid per hour. On race day, I needed to get 2 bottles at
every aid station (roughly 20 oz per bottle, and roughly every 45
minutes). I was willing to give up a bit
of time not to ever miss getting two bottles at the exchanges.
Each 20 oz bottle of Perform contains roughly 175 calories,
so drinking almost entirely Perform would cover my caloric needs. I would bring one Clif bar to snack from if I
really felt the need to chew, but I usually don’t.
I was not as confident about how things would go this time
as in past years. Neglecting some kind
of minor disaster, I knew I should be in the 6 hour neighborhood or maybe a bit
faster, given my two previous performances of 2:45-2:48 at higher power. To this end, the only serious plan I had for
the run was to take the run as easy as I could for as long as I could. My “ideal goal” was about a 3:45 marathon (a
bit slower than 8:30 pace; my last two open marathons were slightly under 3:15). That was facing the cold, hard reality that
no superhuman marathons were going to come this time.
I was prepared to “run easy”, no matter what that pace was
for the first half of the marathon.
Nutrition from the caloric perspective on the run is easy. I decided that the MAJOR thing was keeping
hydrated. I did not want to walk, but I
was willing to stop and/or walk briefly to get in at least 8 oz average per
mile. That is almost 2 quarts per hour, but
if I am already slightly dehydrated, I did not want THAT to be my downfall. I am comfortable choosing between sports
drink, cola, and gels on the run as my mood swings.
So, my plan was pretty simple. Just Swim.
Keep transition simple. Ride easy, eyeballs on the meter…160 NP and no
more. Run the first half easy, easy,
easy and find out what that meant….and then finish..
Race weekend
Due to work issues, Cynthia and I departed for Madison
Friday morning. We attended the 2:00 pm
race briefing, went through check-in, met a friend for dinner, and retired to
our hotel room, where I finished bike prep and put my stuff into the bags. We
slept in Saturday morning, then drove the bike course. I checked in my bike and
bags. Barb and Craig Forney from Ames
had decided to come up for the weekend, and we met them for a late lunch and
then went to a movie and then dinner. My
eating plans were not entirely executed Saturday, but I managed to avoid a lot
of protein and fiber. I am sure Cynthia
would say that I was pretty nuts when we got back to the hotel, but I felt like
we went over the last minute stuff and burned off a little last minute jitters
before going to bed. I woke up almost
hourly, so there was no need for an alarm for me to drink my two bottles of
Naked Juice Smoothies at 1 am.
Craig and Barb drove us to the race site Sunday morning, and
we found convenient parking just a few blocks away at about 5:00 am. In fact, it was so close to transition that
they took my bag to Special Needs area because it was out of the way for me to
walk by there.
I wanted to be alone with my thoughts most of the pre-race
morning after we arrived. Eventually, it
was time to get the wetsuit on, and Cynthia met me to help with the very last
preparation and dispose of the Dry Clothes bag.
We got a picture with the EN crew, and I headed over to the water
entrance.
Race
Swim
I was pretty confident in my race plan, or at least I knew
there was not a better one. So as I made
my way to the water, I tried to think of nothing but the swim. I entered the water a little before 6:45 and
drifted to the center near the ski jump about at 3.5 on the photo here (which I
stole from Facebook!). I stayed 10-15
yards back of the starting line and just meditated a bit as I waited for the
space to fill and the gun to start. My
swim goals were to stay straight, sight as little as possible, and keep my feet
as high as possible. (Anyone who knows
my swimming knows the latter is an issue for me.)
I did not find the start to be terribly violent or crowded
compared to some that I had done, but I did feel like there were an unusual of
“immature” people who reacted stupidly to contact. Within a few hundred yards, the melee had
calmed down enough that I was able to start thinking more about my own
technique, though there was still considerable contact for the first half of the
swim. I got into a pretty decent groove
and was going 25 strokes (counting right arms) between sightings unless I got
whacked or shoved. I know it takes me
about 27 strokes to make it across the 50 m LCM pool and I had been told the
buoys were 100 m apart.
The first turn itself is always a crowded nightmare. Moreover, people who went out too fast seemed
to be suffering in the last couple hundred yards of the first long segment,
making it worse. I disliked the short
segment after the first turn because I found it difficult to navigate straight
into the sun. After hitting the long
segment, I mostly found things comfortable, but still ran into a lot of people
that didn’t know how to behave. My only other significant observation about the
course is that you can see the exit area almost immediately after the last
turn…but you still have quite a ways to go.
When I stood up and saw 1:13:xx on my watch, I felt really
good. My race rehearsals with a buoy in
the LCM pool had been 1:08:xx, so that time was well within “satisfying”. (I swim faster with a buoy than without
one…probably similar to using a wetsuit.)
T1
I jogged up the helix, trying to compromise between not
lollygagging and not throwing my HR way too high. The only things in my T1 bag were shoes,
socks, sunglasses, and helmet. I put
them all on and jogged out. A volunteer
promised to get all my stuff back into the bag.
Some people will choose to keep their shoes off until the
mount line, but I didn’t want to have to find a place to lean my bike after the
mount line in the herd of crazies getting out.
I ran well past the mount line before getting on and starting the next
part of my day.
Bike
- Time 5:51 (a few minutes slower than previously)
- NP 158, VI 1.098, TSS 288 (power lower than previously, VI higher, and TSS lower)
- First half NP 160, Second half NP 157
- P3 with one bottle between the arms and one in the rear. Tools in a bento.
- http://connect.garmin.com/activity/587053821
- For those who do not know, the course is a 16 mile “stick” out to a 40 mile loop that you do twice, before returning back on the same stick.
I should first address my ridiculously high VI. I wish it had been a bit lower because I
probably would have been a bit faster.
But it mostly derives from some segments that I simply have to ride over
200 W to get up steadily, and I chose to coast most of the time when I was
going ≥35+ mph, especially if I was passing people.
In the last few years, I had developed into a reasonable
biker and had done races only of the half distance and shorter. I had gotten used to making some progress
through the bike field even pretty early (perhaps due to wave starts,
too). At the start of this bike leg, I
was aware of my fairly high heart rate from the swim and of some thirst, so I
really, really took it easy for the first 20 minutes or so. It really hurt watching so many people take
off away from me, but I knew I needed to stick to the plan. Still, I admit it pained me.
After we got onto the loop, many people were going up the
hills considerably faster than me, while I would catch them going downhill or
on the flat. The bike course was very
crowded for the first 30-40 miles, and I again sensed that there were a lot of
people who were not very experienced.
There were many times when 3-4 people would ride abreast and I
frequently had to brake while going downhill not because I wanted to, but
because it was not safe to pass. This
probably did not cost me as much as I perceived, but it was frustrating.
On the whole, I had no trouble getting through my fluid
targets or getting new bottles from the volunteers at the aid stations. I
needed to get two bottles at each one, and once or twice, I even got a third
bottle (water) to get a quick drink of about half the bottle before tossing it at
the end of the station. They did a great
job.
My major concern on the major hills was just learning a
technique to keep my wattage down. (My
easiest gear was 34/26, and that was ok.)
I made a point of changing my stroke pattern when I had to over-power,
including some standing up, but I still did my best to keep the power
down. Miles 40-45 were my highest power
5-mile segment of the entire ride at 182 W NP.
It was, of course, great to see Cynthia and our friends at Old Sauk, but
as Rich Strauss says, I was trying not to “put on a show”.
At the half way point I made a pretty serious self
assessment and tried to compare my feeling to half way through my training
rides. The first half had felt easier
than training, but I was aware of some fatigue.
It was not bad, but it was not deniable either. I resolved to hold exactly the same targets
(160-170 W when on flats) but be more generous with myself about coasting and
just not feel guilty about it. I think
this is reflected in the higher second half VI and lower NP. That said, the
thinning of the crowd made it a lot easier for me to ride as I wanted to. I was aware of several people that I was
going back and forth with. The universal
uphill/downhill pattern held with all of them.
My next self-assessment checkpoint was the turn-off to the
stick. Yes, some wear on the quads was
surely there, but I was very pleased with how good I felt. I got up the one notable hill on the stick
back and felt like I made progress through a LOT of people on the last 10-12 miles,
which are predominantly flat or downhill.
My final test was that going up the helix was NO BIG
DEAL. I was really pleased.
A final couple of general comments: (1) it felt like there
was a lot more motorcycle enforcement than usual; (2) I saw what seemed like a
lot of people stopped on the side of the road.
The roads were in their usual lousy overall condition, but there was not
a lot of gravel or rocks or anything of that sort.
Start of bike: 55th
in division and 717th overall; End of bike: 31 in division and 424
overall.
T2
I quickly went inside, got my stuff, then found a chair. I had only a number belt, hat, and running
shoes. It was very efficient, and a
volunteer eventually came again to stash my bike stuff. I put on the shoes and put the rest on while
jogging out. I paused long enough to get
sunscreen on my neck and then dove into a portapotty for the only time of the race. Little did I know then that not peeing on the
bike probably cost me the 11 hour barrier. Total T2 time was 4:22.
Run
- Total time 3:45:40
- First half 1:48:30 (approx.) Second half 1:57 (approx.)
- http://connect.garmin.com/activity/586174072
Like for everyone, the beginning of the run felt easy, and
it was tempting to go too fast. I could have run a few miles at 7:00 pace. I
really, really tried hard to go as slow as I could, but the first 5 miles were
still faster than they should be, averaging about 8:10. Starting about this mark, I started to take a
few extra seconds at each aid station to ensure that I got enough fluid. Again, it was being cautious, but I wanted to
avoid crashing in the late miles due to dehydration. I am not fussy about what liquid I get,
though I tried to continue to get Perform frequently to ensure I got enough
salt. I got into a pattern eventually of
getting one “special” thing at almost every station, that being ice in my hat,
a gel, or extra water. I took no other
food (chips, pretzels, fruit, etc.).
State Street the first time was awesome. I remembered my first IM where I was not
feeling well and I had to tell Cynthia I didn’t know how bad things were going
to get. It was symbolically important to me to tell her this time I was feeling
ok.
It was also fun to see many teammates and friends either
racing or cheering — throughout the whole run.
I cannot name everyone, and I will not try, but if you read this, please
know how much I enjoyed hearing your words, even if I said nothing. I was really having fun, but I am very bad at
chatting on the run…I apologize.
As I got to Observatory hill the first time, I was NOT going
to walk. Not one inch of it. I
remembered feeling weak here before and I did not want to be weak. It was probably
not pretty, but I ran every step.
Does anyone hate that downhill immediately after Observatory
as much as me?
By the time I hit the half-way point, I was aware that the
race was getting harder. I was slipping
to 8:45s or so, but was still holding that when I hit State Street again. I told Rich Strauss I was holding near 8:30
(which, in retrospect, wasn’t quite true) and he told me to back off – that
there was still a ways to go. I probably would have ended up running about the
same pace, but it made me feel good to know I was still doing ok and still had
control over my race. Having some real
control during that second half of the run was a new experience for me, and it
felt great.
The only bad spot was on the way out to campus again. I got
choked up thinking about Timothy, and it made me feel like I was having an
asthma attack or something…wheezy and constricted. But I knew he would not want me to break down
now. There would be time for that
later. I got over it.
Mile 18 came. Yes, I
was slipping to 9:00 miles, but I was doing ok.
I was NOT suffering unduly. I
could count them down now and I knew I could make it near my previous best no
matter what happened.
The Observatory Hills came.
And I thought of Timothy again. How he liked hills. How I made it up the first time. How this mile would be slower than 9:00 but I
was going to run. Mathematically, I am
not sure how much sense it makes to run very slowly up Observatory Hill, but
emotionally I won the race right there.
Almost no one else was running.
Maybe they were the sensible ones, but I won.
After Observatory and the painful downhill that follows, I
was just ticking off the miles..it wa almost anticlimactic. I was not going to be running a whole lot
faster, but I was not going to slow down much.
It was hard, but the really bad suck never came. My mile splits from 18
on were all around 9:00. Somewhere in the
last couple miles I saw Rich again and he lifted my spirits by telling me now just to bring it in the rest of the
way. In my head I ran from mile 25 to 26 a little faster, but the reality of my
Garmin split says otherwise. With the
finish in view, like everyone, I managed a final burst, running a 7:42 for the
last third of a mile and finishing in 11:01:57.
Start of the run: 31st
place AG, 424 overall. End of the run 11th
place AG, 217th overall. 3rd
fastest run in the AG.
After the finish, I was pretty spent, just like
everyone. I needed to sit, but I knew I
had succeeded and would not need medical.
I cried. I was met at the finish by Cynthia, the Forneys, and Karen
Rosser, who was in town and stopped to see the end of the race. It was really touching they were all
there. I don’t think I have ever got so
many hugs at the end of a race. Rich joined us and congratulated me and we took
lots of pictures all around.
Tim, this one’s for you.
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