I've been a school teacher for the past 13 years. Don't go into "teaching" just so that you can have your summers "off". In the first place, there is always something that you need to do during the summer to get ready for the next year. Even more, if you're miserable for 10 months of the year, the two-month summer break won't make up for that. However, it is pretty neat to be able to spend as much time as I do on training and racing during June and July. Just for fun, I did some kind of "training" or racing every day this month. I had never done that before. Admittedly, some of my "training" was just an easy swim or an easy spin on the bike while I was tapering for/recovering from a race. However, I got in more than 500 miles on the bike, more than 100 miles of running, and about 15 miles of swimming. Not enough to turn pro, but a lot of miles for me. And I still did three races this month.
The first race was the Milkman in Dexter, NM, which I've already blogged about. Two weeks later I headed up to Amarillo for the first ever "Chick-Fil-A Triathlon". The folks putting this race together did a pretty nice job for their first try at putting on a race, especially since they pulled everything together in less than six weeks. And then the rains came! It's been pretty dry in West Texas/Eastern New Mexico for the past eight months. But it started to rain the night before the race. I drove through pouring rain between Clovis and Amarillo on the way to the race. It wasn't raining when I arrived in Amarillo, but as soon as I got to packet pick-up, it started raining again. By the time the race was supposed to start, the streets were flooded. I was getting ready to drive home, figuring that the race would be cancelled.
When I was flying airplanes in the USAF, it was fairly easy to accomplish the "mission" when everything (the airplanes, the weather, your wingmen) were working or going according to "the plan". You earned your money by being able to deal with busted airplanes, crappy weather, and/or a wingman who was screwing up. On this day in Amarillo, the Chick-Fil-A race director managed to pull a rabbit out of his hat and put together a "swim/run duathlon". Everyone dropped their running shoes off in the transition area and then lined up at the pool for a time-trial swim start. There were a lot of "first-timers" in the race, but the race director got 120 racers organized quickly in spite of the continuing rain.
It was a 400 meter "snake swim" in an outdoor pool. Everyone was seeded based on their predicted time, and as always there were some folks who must have put down "5 minutes" who ended up breast stroking after the first 25 meters. Still, the swim seemed to go well. I managed to hit my predicted time of 7:57 right on the dot. I splashed over to the transition area, pulled my shoes from the the puddle of water that they were floating in, struggled to pull on the wet shoes over my wet feet, and headed out on the run.
The run started on a grassy field that went around some tennis courts. I was one of the first runners there, and it was already soaked and starting to get muddy. I made it through there, feeling sorry for the folks who would be coming behind me. After that, I really started flying. The course might have been a tad short, but I finished the "5K" run in 21:04, easily my fastest 5K run in the past year. Chick-Fil-A provided everyone with a free lunch, and the marble trophies handed out at the awards ceremony were some of the best in the SWCS. I ended up first in my age group, loaded all of my wet gear in my car, and headed home just as the rain started to let up.
Then it was time for the BSLT 70.3 (formerly known as the Buffalo Springs Half-Ironman). This was the 20th year that Mike and Marti Greer have been putting on this race. It's a world class event with slots for Kona and Clearwater, and I'm lucky to have it here in my backyard. Along with the 70.3, they put on a sprint tri. Clovis is still far from being a hotbed of triathlon activity, but we had six folks and two relays entered in the 70.3 along with 10 more people in the sprint. A lot of them came by our house (along with fellow Outlaws Brian and Misty) on Saturday for a pre-race cookout. We headed off to Lubbock later on Saturday for packet pick-up, dinner at Orlando's, and then five hours of sleep at Motel 6.
Race morning arrived with completely overcast skies and lightning on the horizon. I've done this race seven times as part of a relay or by myself. It's known for being hot (one year it went over 100 degrees F), and normally it is. However, last year it rained for almost the entire time and it was cold. That was actually my most miserable time at this race. I was hoping we weren't going to be in for a repeat of that weather. Thankfully, it never got cold, the lightning stayed away, and it didn't start raining until most of us were coming back on the bike and then it was in the "passing showers" mode of rain.
There was a fairly long wait for the porta potties this year. Part of the problem was the number of porta potties. A bigger problem seemed to be the amount of time that some people were spending "on the pot". I don't know if they're reading the Sunday NY Times or what, but for goodness sake, if you don't have to "go", get off of the pot. Otherwise, take care of business, wipe with both hands, and get the heck out of there!
The swim goes off in waves. There are pluses and minuses associated with this. On the minus side, if you are going for the "overall" win, you don't know where you stand in relation to someone who was in a different wave. Some of the "fast swimmers" in the later waves complain about having to "swim through" slower swimmers in previous waves. The biggest complaint is the people in the last few waves feel they're stuck out on the course in warmer weather than the people who were in the first waves. I much prefer the wave start, though.
Straight away, the swim at Buffalo Springs starts in a small cove. It would be impossible to put 1000 swimmers into the water at the same time. Each wave has about 150-200 swimmers. This keeps the punching and kicking to a minimum, and I think it does a better job of allowing/requiring swimmers to swim at their own pace as opposed to everyone ending up in the same huge blob of humanity. There is a lot of complaining about drafting on the bike at M-dot races. My experience at IMAZ (with 2000 people doing a swim mass start) is that about 1000 people exit the water withing 20 minutes of each other. Combine this with a flat bike course, and what would you expect? IMFL and some of the other M-dot races must be as bad or worse. As far as getting stuck in hot weather because you were in one of the last waves, I don't see this. I've been in the next to last wave every year until this year. There is only a 30 minute difference between the first and last "age group" wave. The last wave goes off at 7:05 AM. For a "6-hour 70.3", you finish at about 12:30 PM if you are in the 1st wave, and 1:00 PM if you are in the last wave. It's not as if the temperature suddenly goes from 70 degrees F at 12:00 up to 90 degrees F at 12:30. Sure, it's no fun to run in hot weather, but the 30 minute (or less) difference is not a huge factor.
I was pretty happy while I was doing my swim. The first leg of the swim at this race (and at the Buffman and Squeaky race which is in the same location) is straight towards the east. Normally, I can never see the buoys, so I just follow the other swimmers in my wave. This year, with the overcast sky, I could see every buoy, especially the huge yellow buoys that marked the turn points on the swim course. There was very little kicking and punching going on, and I felt very relaxed. When I exited the water, I figured out why the swim felt so easy. Forty-four minutes! OK, in previous years when I was doing the swim in about 35 minutes, I figured the course was a little short of 1.2 miles. But I was way slow this year. It's like running a mile in 6 minutes vs. walking it in 30 minutes. One hurts, the other is easy. I sure didn't hurt myself on this year's swim! (BTW, there is a "BSLT thread" on slowtwitch.com where they were discussing the length of this year's swim. One guy has some algorithm based on the pro's swim times, whether they were wearing wetsuits, etc. He figures this year's course was about 100 meters long. Not a big deal for a 1.2-mile open water swim, and everyone swims the same course anyway.)
After the slow swim, I had a lot left in the tank for the bike and run. I felt good coming out of T-1 and climbing the two hills that you have on the first mile of the bike. I dipped my head to get a drink from my aero bottle and I discovered I'd forgotten to get my plastic straw out of the bottle (where I'd placed it when I left home so that I wouldn't lose it). I had to stop to fish it out so that I could push it into its hole. While I was doing this, Scott, one of my good competitors from my age group in the SWCS, passed me and asked if I needed any help. Well, maybe a new checklist for my transition area check. Anyway, this took less than a minute, and I was back on the road. The wind was out of the north at 10-15 mph. A lot of people were talking about the wind after the race, but after riding in Clovis for the past 16 years, this was no big deal. Heading south towards Yellow House Canyon, I came up behind a 21-year old guy on a bike drinking from a water bottle. Instead of putting the bottle back onto his bike, he did his best "Lance Armstrong in the Tour de France" imitation and tossed it into the field beside the road. We had just passed the 1st aid station a mile or two earlier. I rode up to him and told him (in my school teacher voice), "Throw your bottles away at the aid stations, not into some farmers field!" He came back with (in a whipped puppy voice), "But it wasn't empty then." Good grief.
I never could catch Scott on the bike. I've been riding really well this year, so I was surprised to see at each of the three turn-arounds that Scott was maintaining a two minute lead. Dang! Other than that, I was riding well for this course. In addition to the hills coming out of the transition area, there are four other pretty good climbs and one more long, slow climb. I'm always trying to save something for the run, too, so I never go very fast there. It started to rain during the last 15 miles of the bike, which was nice as far as keeping me cool, but the road was fairly slick, especially on a couple of the corners. In the end, I had a PR for the bike there at 2:54.
I stopped in the most foul porta potty I've ever been in coming out of T-2, but having taken care of business, I was off on the run. The first three miles are flat, but then you hit a hill. Almost immediately, you go down a hill, then back up another one. The run on the "Energy Lab #2" road out to the turn-around is a relief because it's flat. I really felt good on the run. I knew Scott was a couple of minutes ahead of me coming out of T-2, but by the turn around I'd cut the lead to less than a minute. With about four miles to go, I finally caught up to him. I told him how well he did on the bike, he told me how well I was going on the run, and then I kept on going. At about two miles to go I passed another guy in my age group. He told me, "There are three other guys in front of us." Well, I thought it would be great to finish in fourth place, but I knew what the finish times for my age group had been in previous years. I was secretly hoping for a "top 10" finish. I ended up with a run PR (1:48) and a race PR (5:31:56) in spite of my swim PW. Sure enough, I finished 9th in my age group. For that, I was really happy.
This is a great race, and it's so cool that it's less than a two-hour drive from my house. Mike and Marti really know what they are doing, the course is a true test of individual ability (if you want to draft on the bike and/or you can't run on hills, this isn't the race for you), and they get great volunteers every year (especially the ones who stuck it out in the rain the past two years). I'll never earn a Kona slot here, but it's still fun to race against some really fast folks.
Next up, the Bottomless Tri in Rosewell, NM.
And four months until Silverman!
muffinman
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
First to Worst
During the past month, I've done three triathlons. None of them show up in magazines advertising a rock band every mile, or visions of the NYC skyline, or Hollywood "stars" doing the same race, or a chance to have Mickey Mouse cheer me on as I run through the Magic Kingdom, much less the coveted "Ironman" label. However, they're the kind of races I've come to prefer. I don't need/want 2000 plus people climbing over each other during a swim mass start and packs of cyclists drafting each other on the bike course. Encouragement from any spectators who happen to be there is nice but not necessary, and garage rock bands are just silly. If I go to a "destination", I'd better be taking my wife and daughter with me, and I'd better not be spending my "family time" doing a triathlon. And all of these races were within a two-hour drive from my house.
First up was the Ransom Canyon Tri just outside Lubbock, TX. This was my first ever triathlon back in 2002. That year, they only had 62 people show up. They didn't get 100 people there until 2007, and this year they still only had 110 individual participants. But it's a real quality race. An open water swim, a really steep hill straight out of T-1, another canyon to traverse out and back on the bike, and a nice 5K run along the shore of the lake. I had a pretty slow swim, a PR on the bike, and an average run, but still managed to win my age group.
Next, the Buffman and Squeaky Tri, next door to the Ransom Canyon Tri. I have done this race every year of its existence (including the first year, 2004, when it was called the M&M Tri). I really like this race. In 2004, they only had 83 participants, but now they get around 120 each year. (They also put on a sprint tri on the same day at the same place, so it there are about 200 people there.) It's an Olympic distance race at the same location as the Buffalo Springs Half Ironman (now known as the BSLT 70.3). The swim is pretty much the same at both races. The Buff and Squeak bike also has a hill straight out of transition. You pretty much ride the first third of the BSLT 70.3 bike course, which includes the same canyon as the Ransom Canyon Tri. The run is an out and back around the lake to the three mile point of the BSLT 70.3 run. This time, I had a fast swim, another PR on the bike, and an "almost PR" on the run. Overall, it was a PR for this race and I won my group again.
Last week, it was the Milkman Sprint Tri in Dexter, NM. I'm pretty sure no one ever says, "Let's spend our next vacation in Dexter, NM." (Although Roswell, which is only about 15 miles north, gets a fair amount of tourist trade for their alien museum.) However, the race director and everyone in Dexter who supports this race are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. I have done this race every year since 2002. At one time, they used to get 300 or so people there. Since 2002, they have been closer to 180 participants, with only 147 individuals showing up in 2007. However, this year, they were up to 236 individuals (along with 25 relay teams). Best of all, most of the increase was in the "younger" age groups. It's another open water swim (in a large duck pond (named Lake Van by some optimist)) but they do wave starts with 20-30 people per wave. This is a good thing, because the bike course is pretty flat. The wave starts keep everyone spread out so that drafting does not seem to be a huge problem (although "Iron Mike" Baker, the USAT official, did assess some penalties). The run is pretty neat. You start out on the blacktop road that goes around the pond, run through a fish hatchery, divert off onto a tractor path through some scrub land, return to the road, then you finish by running across a grass field through a finishing chute. I had a mediocre swim, another PR on the bike (must be the Raisin Bran?), then an average run. Not my fastest time there, and 60-year-old Ted Freedman caught and passed me at the half-way point on the run, but I was still fast enough to win my group.
And that brings me to "First to Worst". In addition to being the fastest person in my group, I was also the slowest. For the first time ever, I was the only person in my age group in a race. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing for the local Tri scene. Like I said, they had a lot of people at this year's Milkman Tri, especially in the age groups between the ages of 20-49. I was reading yesterday how Harley Davidson is having a hard time. Something like only 15% of the people who buy a Harley are younger than 35, and they're running out of new buyers. It's a good thing to get some "young blood" into the local Tri scene. These guys and gals are really fast and they sure make the races more fun and exciting.
Next up, the Chick-fil-a Tri in Amarillo, TX. The overall winners (male and female) both receive a year's worth of free Chick-fil-a food. I can always hope!
muffinman
First up was the Ransom Canyon Tri just outside Lubbock, TX. This was my first ever triathlon back in 2002. That year, they only had 62 people show up. They didn't get 100 people there until 2007, and this year they still only had 110 individual participants. But it's a real quality race. An open water swim, a really steep hill straight out of T-1, another canyon to traverse out and back on the bike, and a nice 5K run along the shore of the lake. I had a pretty slow swim, a PR on the bike, and an average run, but still managed to win my age group.
Next, the Buffman and Squeaky Tri, next door to the Ransom Canyon Tri. I have done this race every year of its existence (including the first year, 2004, when it was called the M&M Tri). I really like this race. In 2004, they only had 83 participants, but now they get around 120 each year. (They also put on a sprint tri on the same day at the same place, so it there are about 200 people there.) It's an Olympic distance race at the same location as the Buffalo Springs Half Ironman (now known as the BSLT 70.3). The swim is pretty much the same at both races. The Buff and Squeak bike also has a hill straight out of transition. You pretty much ride the first third of the BSLT 70.3 bike course, which includes the same canyon as the Ransom Canyon Tri. The run is an out and back around the lake to the three mile point of the BSLT 70.3 run. This time, I had a fast swim, another PR on the bike, and an "almost PR" on the run. Overall, it was a PR for this race and I won my group again.
Last week, it was the Milkman Sprint Tri in Dexter, NM. I'm pretty sure no one ever says, "Let's spend our next vacation in Dexter, NM." (Although Roswell, which is only about 15 miles north, gets a fair amount of tourist trade for their alien museum.) However, the race director and everyone in Dexter who supports this race are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. I have done this race every year since 2002. At one time, they used to get 300 or so people there. Since 2002, they have been closer to 180 participants, with only 147 individuals showing up in 2007. However, this year, they were up to 236 individuals (along with 25 relay teams). Best of all, most of the increase was in the "younger" age groups. It's another open water swim (in a large duck pond (named Lake Van by some optimist)) but they do wave starts with 20-30 people per wave. This is a good thing, because the bike course is pretty flat. The wave starts keep everyone spread out so that drafting does not seem to be a huge problem (although "Iron Mike" Baker, the USAT official, did assess some penalties). The run is pretty neat. You start out on the blacktop road that goes around the pond, run through a fish hatchery, divert off onto a tractor path through some scrub land, return to the road, then you finish by running across a grass field through a finishing chute. I had a mediocre swim, another PR on the bike (must be the Raisin Bran?), then an average run. Not my fastest time there, and 60-year-old Ted Freedman caught and passed me at the half-way point on the run, but I was still fast enough to win my group.
And that brings me to "First to Worst". In addition to being the fastest person in my group, I was also the slowest. For the first time ever, I was the only person in my age group in a race. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing for the local Tri scene. Like I said, they had a lot of people at this year's Milkman Tri, especially in the age groups between the ages of 20-49. I was reading yesterday how Harley Davidson is having a hard time. Something like only 15% of the people who buy a Harley are younger than 35, and they're running out of new buyers. It's a good thing to get some "young blood" into the local Tri scene. These guys and gals are really fast and they sure make the races more fun and exciting.
Next up, the Chick-fil-a Tri in Amarillo, TX. The overall winners (male and female) both receive a year's worth of free Chick-fil-a food. I can always hope!
muffinman
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Run on the Yellow Brick Road
The Jan 2009 issue of "Runners World" magazine carried its usual column by Jeff Galloway. In it, he posed as "Fact of Fiction" something that I hear a lot of runners discussing. To quote, "Asphalt is softer than concrete and treadmills are softer than both. FICTION. While some people say they feel the differences among the surfaces, after coaching more than 250,000 runners, I haven't seen any difference in rate of injury or fatigue when running on asphalt, concrete, of treadmills. You can reduce the impact on your body on any surface by taking enough walk breaks from the beginning and wearing a running shoe that fits your foo well."
If I had a dime for every time I've read or heard someone say, "Running on trails is so much easier on your body", I could retire and become a full-time triathlete. This might be true in some parts of the world. I'm thinking about some of the "trails" in Germany that I used to bike and walk the dogs on. They were nice and wide, well maintained, with thousands of years worth of decayed leaves ground into the surface, and enough rain to keep things soft without being muddy. My experience in the Southwest portion of the United States says otherwise. Trails here are hard as rocks. (Because a lot of them are simply rock, and those that aren't rock are compacted sand or caliche clay, which might as well be rock.) I hear people saying things like, "That trail is so cool! Lots of technical single track." Well yeah, lots of places where you can't pass without somebody moving off the trail, and don't even think about looking anywhere other than the trail six feet in front of you because you'll miss the rock/root/gully that will trip you and/or sprain your ankle (or worse).
If running on trails is easier, it's because you can't run very fast. Ten-minute miles seem to be regarded as a reasonably fast pace. (Although the fastest trail runners do go faster.) It's hard to get into a rhythm. Start, stop, turn left, turn right, jump up, jump down. It's a great way to get in a "weight room" training session for your legs, but less so when it comes to exercising your aerobic engine.
If I'm going to "run", give me a street/road/highway any day. I don't think you get any additional cushioning by running on a trail, and I don't have to worry about stepping on a rock or falling into a gopher hole. Would I ever run on a trail? I have, and I will again, but I maintain that "running" is a relative term when you compare roads to trails. I'm not fast on either, but I sure feel better on a road.
Even a yellow brick road.
muffinman
If I had a dime for every time I've read or heard someone say, "Running on trails is so much easier on your body", I could retire and become a full-time triathlete. This might be true in some parts of the world. I'm thinking about some of the "trails" in Germany that I used to bike and walk the dogs on. They were nice and wide, well maintained, with thousands of years worth of decayed leaves ground into the surface, and enough rain to keep things soft without being muddy. My experience in the Southwest portion of the United States says otherwise. Trails here are hard as rocks. (Because a lot of them are simply rock, and those that aren't rock are compacted sand or caliche clay, which might as well be rock.) I hear people saying things like, "That trail is so cool! Lots of technical single track." Well yeah, lots of places where you can't pass without somebody moving off the trail, and don't even think about looking anywhere other than the trail six feet in front of you because you'll miss the rock/root/gully that will trip you and/or sprain your ankle (or worse).
If running on trails is easier, it's because you can't run very fast. Ten-minute miles seem to be regarded as a reasonably fast pace. (Although the fastest trail runners do go faster.) It's hard to get into a rhythm. Start, stop, turn left, turn right, jump up, jump down. It's a great way to get in a "weight room" training session for your legs, but less so when it comes to exercising your aerobic engine.
If I'm going to "run", give me a street/road/highway any day. I don't think you get any additional cushioning by running on a trail, and I don't have to worry about stepping on a rock or falling into a gopher hole. Would I ever run on a trail? I have, and I will again, but I maintain that "running" is a relative term when you compare roads to trails. I'm not fast on either, but I sure feel better on a road.
Even a yellow brick road.
muffinman
Monday, March 23, 2009
We're Not Worthy!
Enough of the off-season. I went to the Raptor Du (formerly know as the Stealth Du) at Holloman AFB last weekend. The perfect way to kick off the year and to get me motivated to get back into training.
The folks at Holloman have been putting on a spring du and a fall tri since before I ever did a race. There are some real horror stories about the lack of organization there during some of the past races. The first race I did there was the Oct 2003 tri. I am retired military, so I didn't have any problem getting on base. I spent 4 months at Holloman back in 1977 doing the old "fighter lead in" program, so I more or less knew my way around. However, when I got to the pool, it didn't look like anyone was there, there was nothing in the way of a transition area, and the door to the pool was locked. I wasn't that early, so I started to think I must be at the wrong place. However, a couple of other people were also standing around, and shortly a few "USAF types" showed up and started setting things up. After a fairly long time, someone who seemed to be the race director showed up and got the building unlocked. It turned out that the gate guards didn't have a list of the "civilians" who they were supposed to allow on base, so a lot of people were showing up late. This turned out not to be a problem, since nothing else was ready to go. The race finally started about two hours late. The race itself wasn't too bad, other than the lack of marking/guides on the bike route. The two leading women ("Gabi" and "Mary", both elite-level athletes) took a wrong turn and ended up out in the boondocks northwest of the base. Mary bagged the race after that, but Gabi kept going. I was actually pretty pleased to have her pass me during the swim leg (it was a run/bike/swim tri). For a while, I thought I'd biked faster than she had biked. Things were so bad that year that I received an "apology letter" from the Services Squadron commander a week later.
Since then, their races have generally been pretty well organized. They have been slow getting the results/awards compiled, but they seemed to be trying. This year, everything was very nicely done. Everything was set up early, they started exactly "on time" at 8:00, they had road guards out (although this didn't prevent everyone from running a few extra meters when we followed the first few runners past one of the turns, and a couple of people on the bike turned early down a dead-end street), and they had a lot of people working the timing and recording issues. We had time for a quick shower, then they provided a pasta "brunch" (it was still only 10:30 in the morning), followed by a quick but accurate and well organized awards ceremony. They had hard copies of the final results for everyone, and the whole show was wrapped up by 11:30. They really had their stuff together, and I'm looking forward to the tri in October.
The "we're not worthy" portion of this entry has to do with one of the guys in my age group. Actually, "Mark" is four years older than me, so I only have to deal with him the year when I age up, the same year that he is a senior citizen in the group. When I was little, I was a reasonable baseball player. I figured with a little extra practice, I could play in the big leagues. However, baseball skill evaluation can be pretty subjective. I'm not sure that everyone playing MLB today was tearing up their little league circuit. Somehow, they managed to make it, though. However, "endurance sports" are fairly easy to evaluate. If you can run/bike/swim/ski/etc. faster than the other guy, you win. Eventually, you'll get older, and the younger guys will catch you, but you can hang on to some "age group" glory. Mark is simply ageless. OK, he can crush me like a grape in a duathlon where his faster running and biking give me no chance. He doesn't swim really fast, so I can get some cushion in a tri with a "long" swim (1500m or longer). Even then, I'll need a good day on the bike/run to stay with him. The amazing thing to me, he was 6th overall at the Raptor Du. He was the fastest person there over the age of 39. Mark is 59 years old. (Do the math, he'll be 60 next year.) He's not the only "old guy" doing incredible things in the world of multisport, but he's the one on the local circuit that I know and who I get to compete against. I'm going to train hard and do my best in my races with him, but gosh all fish hooks, some people are simply better than the rest of us.
We're not worthy!
muffinman
The folks at Holloman have been putting on a spring du and a fall tri since before I ever did a race. There are some real horror stories about the lack of organization there during some of the past races. The first race I did there was the Oct 2003 tri. I am retired military, so I didn't have any problem getting on base. I spent 4 months at Holloman back in 1977 doing the old "fighter lead in" program, so I more or less knew my way around. However, when I got to the pool, it didn't look like anyone was there, there was nothing in the way of a transition area, and the door to the pool was locked. I wasn't that early, so I started to think I must be at the wrong place. However, a couple of other people were also standing around, and shortly a few "USAF types" showed up and started setting things up. After a fairly long time, someone who seemed to be the race director showed up and got the building unlocked. It turned out that the gate guards didn't have a list of the "civilians" who they were supposed to allow on base, so a lot of people were showing up late. This turned out not to be a problem, since nothing else was ready to go. The race finally started about two hours late. The race itself wasn't too bad, other than the lack of marking/guides on the bike route. The two leading women ("Gabi" and "Mary", both elite-level athletes) took a wrong turn and ended up out in the boondocks northwest of the base. Mary bagged the race after that, but Gabi kept going. I was actually pretty pleased to have her pass me during the swim leg (it was a run/bike/swim tri). For a while, I thought I'd biked faster than she had biked. Things were so bad that year that I received an "apology letter" from the Services Squadron commander a week later.
Since then, their races have generally been pretty well organized. They have been slow getting the results/awards compiled, but they seemed to be trying. This year, everything was very nicely done. Everything was set up early, they started exactly "on time" at 8:00, they had road guards out (although this didn't prevent everyone from running a few extra meters when we followed the first few runners past one of the turns, and a couple of people on the bike turned early down a dead-end street), and they had a lot of people working the timing and recording issues. We had time for a quick shower, then they provided a pasta "brunch" (it was still only 10:30 in the morning), followed by a quick but accurate and well organized awards ceremony. They had hard copies of the final results for everyone, and the whole show was wrapped up by 11:30. They really had their stuff together, and I'm looking forward to the tri in October.
The "we're not worthy" portion of this entry has to do with one of the guys in my age group. Actually, "Mark" is four years older than me, so I only have to deal with him the year when I age up, the same year that he is a senior citizen in the group. When I was little, I was a reasonable baseball player. I figured with a little extra practice, I could play in the big leagues. However, baseball skill evaluation can be pretty subjective. I'm not sure that everyone playing MLB today was tearing up their little league circuit. Somehow, they managed to make it, though. However, "endurance sports" are fairly easy to evaluate. If you can run/bike/swim/ski/etc. faster than the other guy, you win. Eventually, you'll get older, and the younger guys will catch you, but you can hang on to some "age group" glory. Mark is simply ageless. OK, he can crush me like a grape in a duathlon where his faster running and biking give me no chance. He doesn't swim really fast, so I can get some cushion in a tri with a "long" swim (1500m or longer). Even then, I'll need a good day on the bike/run to stay with him. The amazing thing to me, he was 6th overall at the Raptor Du. He was the fastest person there over the age of 39. Mark is 59 years old. (Do the math, he'll be 60 next year.) He's not the only "old guy" doing incredible things in the world of multisport, but he's the one on the local circuit that I know and who I get to compete against. I'm going to train hard and do my best in my races with him, but gosh all fish hooks, some people are simply better than the rest of us.
We're not worthy!
muffinman
Friday, January 2, 2009
Goals
I looked up my 2008 goals that I'd set a year ago.
"So, what about 2008? I've never really worried about having an "A-race" to plan around, but I really want to concentrate on two races this year. I've done the BSLT 70.3 before, but mostly I just wanted to finish the race. Given the level of competition there, I won't ever finish on the podium (top half of my age group is possible), but I'm going to shoot to finish in under 5:45. (The winner of my age group will be about one hour in ahead of this.) I did the Half-Silverman in 2007, and I'm moving up to the Full Silverman this year. OK, just finishing is my goal, but if I train the way I plan to train, I should be able to finish in under 15:00. (The winner of my age group will be about three hours ahead of this.)"
How did I do? The short answer is that I was one for two. I finished BSLT in 5:44:27 (13/36 in my age group). I finished Silverman in 15:30:09 (6/12 in my age group).
Now for the excuses. Although I "met my goal" at BSLT, I could have gone even faster. It was raining during almost the entire bike ride. My bike handling skills are pretty limited as it is, and given the wet road conditions I was really careful anytime there was a turn in the road. Heck, sometimes it was scary just passing people on a straight section of road. I'm thinking I could have gone a little faster on the bike if the roads had been dry. However, I might have gone slower on the run if I'd burned more matches on the bike. Who knows?
The weather at Silverman was brutal. With about one-half mile to go on the swim, a cold front arrived. The waves and the spray on the last half mile of the swim slowed me down quite a bit. The killer was getting on the bike in a sleeveless jersey and shorts. The air temperature went down into the 40 or 50 degree F range, it started to rain/sleet on everything, and the winds picked up to 20 mph with gusts to 40 mph. I have never been so cold as I was during the first hour of the bike. It was very scary going downhill at any speed above 20 mph because of the wind and the slick roads, and I was shivering so badly my arms were shaking the entire bike. After an hour or so the weather didn't necessarily become nice, but at least it was less nasty, so I was able to finish the bike. But it sure took a lot of energy out of me, and I more or less gave up on trying for any particular finish time. I was simply looking to finish. Having said that, after T-2 I saw that I only needed to run a 5:20 marathon to finish the race under 15 hours. Even on the Silverman course, I should have been able to do that. But I still couldn't get warm on the run. By the time I hit the 16 mile point, I needed to grab a "space blanket" from one of the aid stations to drape around my shoulders to keep me warm. I'm not sure that I would have finished in 15 hours even if the weather had been ideal, but I know that I would have been faster.
So, what about 2009? OK, I've got three goals. I will "age up" to the M55-59 age group this year. I'm not going to blow away the competition there even if I can go as fast this year as I have in the past. However, while the "best" guys are quite a bit faster than me, the older age group is just a little slower overall. My first goal is to place in the top ten of my age group at the BSLT 70.3. In order to do this, I will almost certainly need to be faster than last year, but given "normal" weather conditions I ought to be able to do this. My second goal is to finish the Silverman in less time than it took this year. This might seem like a "soft" goal, but just finishing the Silverman is pretty challenging. If the weather there is better, and assuming that I do finish, I should be able to go under 15:30. My last goal is to run a sub 21:00 5K. This is not going to help me much when it comes to running 13.1/26.2 miles at BSLT/Silverman, but it's something I want to do. I used to run 3 miles in 21 minutes when I was a cadet at the USAF Academy, and that seemed pretty easy at the time. As recently as 1996 I could run 1.5 miles in less than 9 minutes. OK, I'm older now, but there are plenty of guys in my age group who can run 5K's even faster than 21 minutes. I'll work on this during the next few months. If I can do it I'll do it before the end of May. One way or the other, I won't worry about trying to do this after the end of May. After that, I'll be racing BSLT and ramping up for Silverman.
Three goals for me. Good luck to everyone in 2009!
muffinman
"So, what about 2008? I've never really worried about having an "A-race" to plan around, but I really want to concentrate on two races this year. I've done the BSLT 70.3 before, but mostly I just wanted to finish the race. Given the level of competition there, I won't ever finish on the podium (top half of my age group is possible), but I'm going to shoot to finish in under 5:45. (The winner of my age group will be about one hour in ahead of this.) I did the Half-Silverman in 2007, and I'm moving up to the Full Silverman this year. OK, just finishing is my goal, but if I train the way I plan to train, I should be able to finish in under 15:00. (The winner of my age group will be about three hours ahead of this.)"
How did I do? The short answer is that I was one for two. I finished BSLT in 5:44:27 (13/36 in my age group). I finished Silverman in 15:30:09 (6/12 in my age group).
Now for the excuses. Although I "met my goal" at BSLT, I could have gone even faster. It was raining during almost the entire bike ride. My bike handling skills are pretty limited as it is, and given the wet road conditions I was really careful anytime there was a turn in the road. Heck, sometimes it was scary just passing people on a straight section of road. I'm thinking I could have gone a little faster on the bike if the roads had been dry. However, I might have gone slower on the run if I'd burned more matches on the bike. Who knows?
The weather at Silverman was brutal. With about one-half mile to go on the swim, a cold front arrived. The waves and the spray on the last half mile of the swim slowed me down quite a bit. The killer was getting on the bike in a sleeveless jersey and shorts. The air temperature went down into the 40 or 50 degree F range, it started to rain/sleet on everything, and the winds picked up to 20 mph with gusts to 40 mph. I have never been so cold as I was during the first hour of the bike. It was very scary going downhill at any speed above 20 mph because of the wind and the slick roads, and I was shivering so badly my arms were shaking the entire bike. After an hour or so the weather didn't necessarily become nice, but at least it was less nasty, so I was able to finish the bike. But it sure took a lot of energy out of me, and I more or less gave up on trying for any particular finish time. I was simply looking to finish. Having said that, after T-2 I saw that I only needed to run a 5:20 marathon to finish the race under 15 hours. Even on the Silverman course, I should have been able to do that. But I still couldn't get warm on the run. By the time I hit the 16 mile point, I needed to grab a "space blanket" from one of the aid stations to drape around my shoulders to keep me warm. I'm not sure that I would have finished in 15 hours even if the weather had been ideal, but I know that I would have been faster.
So, what about 2009? OK, I've got three goals. I will "age up" to the M55-59 age group this year. I'm not going to blow away the competition there even if I can go as fast this year as I have in the past. However, while the "best" guys are quite a bit faster than me, the older age group is just a little slower overall. My first goal is to place in the top ten of my age group at the BSLT 70.3. In order to do this, I will almost certainly need to be faster than last year, but given "normal" weather conditions I ought to be able to do this. My second goal is to finish the Silverman in less time than it took this year. This might seem like a "soft" goal, but just finishing the Silverman is pretty challenging. If the weather there is better, and assuming that I do finish, I should be able to go under 15:30. My last goal is to run a sub 21:00 5K. This is not going to help me much when it comes to running 13.1/26.2 miles at BSLT/Silverman, but it's something I want to do. I used to run 3 miles in 21 minutes when I was a cadet at the USAF Academy, and that seemed pretty easy at the time. As recently as 1996 I could run 1.5 miles in less than 9 minutes. OK, I'm older now, but there are plenty of guys in my age group who can run 5K's even faster than 21 minutes. I'll work on this during the next few months. If I can do it I'll do it before the end of May. One way or the other, I won't worry about trying to do this after the end of May. After that, I'll be racing BSLT and ramping up for Silverman.
Three goals for me. Good luck to everyone in 2009!
muffinman
Sunday, November 30, 2008
One More Time!
For a week or so after this year's Silverman, I figured I was finished with long course triathlons. I can't do anything at this distance other than just finish the race. Forget about a "fast" time, finishing on the podium, or even trying to catch someone ahead of me in the race. Throw in the six-hour rides and two-hour runs for training, and I was having a hard time seeing how I was having any fun.
Then I watched the "trailer" for the Silverman video.
http://www.silvermannv.com/press_room/silverman-trailer.php
So once more, I'm heading out to Henderson. Who needs to go fast! This race is so much fun, I'll have a great time just being there.
Time to start training!
muffinman
Then I watched the "trailer" for the Silverman video.
http://www.silvermannv.com/press_room/silverman-trailer.php
So once more, I'm heading out to Henderson. Who needs to go fast! This race is so much fun, I'll have a great time just being there.
Time to start training!
muffinman
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Silverman
Last Sunday, Nov 9th, 2008, I finished the Silverman triathlon. I didn't "race" the Silverman. I'm not strong enough to race that course. No one signs up for the Silverman thinking, "Gee, that's an easy race. I'll go do it so that I can pencil in another long course triathlon on my resume." People do the Silverman partly because it is a tough race, partly because it is so well run, partly because of the spectacular setting, and mostly because it is a lot of fun! If you go to the Silverman web page, there is an excellent race report under the link titled "SURVIVING THE RACE". It has a lot of information about the course, and some really good pictures showing what it would look like on a sunny day.
http://www.silvermannv.com/
Last Sunday was not a sunny day. There are several threads on the Slowtwitch forums discussing the race last Sunday. If you go there and do a search for "Silverman", you can see what other folks have to say. (Sorry, I can't get the "insert link" to work, but you can copy and paste the following link. Check out "2nd Crack at Silverman". Same guy wrote up his experience this year, with more photos of this year's cloudy weather.)
http://forum.slowtwitch.com/
I arrived in Henderson on Friday for packet pickup and the pre-race dinner. The weather was beautiful. Saturday I hit the pancake breakfast then went out to Lake Mead to drop off my bike. While I was there, I went for a short run. Again, beautiful weather. The weather forecast for Sunday was calling for slightly cooler temperatures and party cloudy skies with a 30% chance of rain. Sounded good for a long course race. I went to the pre-race meeting and there were a few comments about the weather, but still, it didn't sound too bad. I went back to my room, finished grading some chemistry lab reports, and was asleep by ten o'clock.
Sunday morning, up at 3:30, on the shuttle bus at 4:00, arrived at the race start early, stretched out on the carpet in the changing tent, and just relaxed. Once it started to get light outside, I took a peek at the weather. "Hey, this doesn't look too bad! Not too cold, a few clouds (so we won't have to deal with the sun on the last leg of the swim), and almost no wind. Heck, this is going to be great! I was happy that I'd decided to go with my sleeveless wetsuit since the water was almost 70 degrees. It looked like I wouldn't need any "cold weather gear" for the bike either, so I took my gloves, arm warmers, and turtle neck shirt out of my swim-to-bike bag and put them in my dry clothes bag so they wouldn't get wet. The gun went off for the swim right on time at 6:30 and we were off!
The first part of the swim was a piece of cake. The water in Lake Mead is so much cleaner than what we have here in Eastern NM/West TX. You can actually see the other swimmers around you, so I was able to draft off a couple of other swimmers. There was a little chop, but less than what you get at Buffalo Springs most years. I was thinking, "Gosh, I'll probably have a really fast swim time. Maybe I can actually try to "race" today."
And then the cold front arrived.
All that I knew from my position in the water was that suddenly we were swimming through some really big waves. I found out later that a 40 mph gust of wind hit the beach and blew a bunch of stuff over. The temperature dropped about 10 degrees. In the water, we were swimming into three foot waves and blowing spray kicked up by the 20 mph headwind with gusts to 40 mph. I couldn't see the next buoy, so I just started swimming in the general direction of the boat ramp. Eventually another swimmer came up beside me. It looked like she knew where she was going, so I started drafting off her. (And because it was a woman and not a man, I knew she'd stop and ask for directions if we got lost!) Eventually, we got close enough to the boat ramp to see and hear the people standing there, so I knew that I was going to make it. The last half-mile of the swim took 30 minutes. I didn't think I was working that hard, it's just that I was going so slowly. The funny thing was once my feet hit the sandy beach, my legs were absolutely rubber. I couldn't stand up for about 20 seconds. I had never had this happen before, and it was more funny than alarming.
Fellow Outlaw Paul was in the changing tent. We congratulated each other on surviving the swim. At this point, I was really questioning my decision to get rid of my cold weather gear. Was a sleeveless Outlaw jersey and trishorts going to be enough? But I figured I'd warm up once I got going on the bike. As soon as you leave T-1, you have a pretty good one-mile climb from the boat ramp to the main highway. Paul and I rode together for a while, and I did start to feel comfortably warm. I said goodbye to Paul and settled in for what I figured to be a seven-hour ride.
And then it started to rain. And sleet. And the wind kept blowing, and gusting. It's one thing to stay warm without adequate clothing if it's cold. It's impossible when you're wet and you're dealing with wind. I was really getting cold. The bike course at Silverman has (so I've read) 11,000 feet of climbing. But you get to go downhill quite a bit too. Not that this makes up for the time lost climbing, but at least it's something. However, given the slick roads and gusting crosswinds, it was all most of us could do to go downhill at 10-15 mph without going off into the ditch. Some riders did go off the road, and apparently one rider crashed hard enough that he had to be medevaced off the course. I started thinking about how much time I had until the bike cutoff, and pretty much gave up on having any kind of fast time.
After an hour or so, the worst of the storm front had passed. It was still cold, it would occasionally rain, and it was mostly cloudy. However, I was no longer shivering uncontrollably and I could think about things other than how cold I was. I was grabbing a gel at each of the aid stations, but one time I couldn't get it open because my hands were so cold. About 10 miles before the bike turn around, Andy Cope (from Mesa, AZ) caught up to me. He had been in the water for two hours, and he was happy to be out on the bike. We saw Paul and then George Ferland (from Artesia, NM) heading back in on the bike. They had almost a 20-mile lead on us. Andy took off, but the thought of getting to the turn around picked up my spirits. The turn around comes at 51 miles, and then at 60 miles you hit the longest climb of the day. Three miles long and about 1000 feet of climbing, it takes a lot out of you. After that, it was 30 miles of more climbing and headwinds before you hit the "Three Sisters". These are three short but steep (18%) hills on a bike path. Everyone at Silverman talks about them, most people with some degree of trepidation. I'm not a very strong climber, but these hills don't bother me too much. Sure, they're steep, and the fact that you've already done a pretty tough 93-mile ride makes them even tougher, but I can climb them slowly out of the saddle in a 39x25 gear without blowing up. Some folks do walk up them, though. After I'd made it up the last "Sister", I looked over my shoulder to see how much I'd climbed. I saw a really neat rainbow (we still had occasional rain showers) and I thought that maybe this was a sign that the rest of the day would go well. Not so fast. I settled back onto my saddle and started pedalling and then suddenly I started to cramp in my left quad. I started to favor the left quad and my right hammy started to cramp. Whoa, OK, ease up on the right side, and then my left glute started to cramp. Back and forth, back and forth, for the next couple minutes I was just fighting off cramps. Guess the Three Sisters had gotten a piece of me after all. Once the cramping went away, I figured I could pretty much coast into T-2, but then I started to get some tendinitis in my right knee. Wow, I've still got to run 26.2 miles. This could get ugly.
In the changing tent I commiserated with another competitor. We were both in "survival mode" by then, but just finishing this race is not so bad. I headed out on the run, knowing from doing the Half Silverman that the first mile is downhill and that I wouldn't be able to keep the same pace for the rest of the run. Still, it gives you hope that you'll have a good run when you go through the first mile in eight minutes. Then you hit a two-mile climb, and reality sets in. I wasn't worried about finishing before the cutoff at midnight, but I knew I was going to be slow. The run course doubles back on itself on a few legs and you run two laps, so you get to see a lot of people. I saw Paul, George, and Andy a couple of times. Paul and George were having pretty good races, and Andy was having a good run. Me? I was sampling whatever they had to eat and drink at each of the aid stations. Every now and then I'd feel the tendinitis and I knew even if I felt like running faster I couldn't. By the time I started the second lap it was dark. And then it really got cold. I wasn't moving fast enough to stay warm. A lot of folks were "running" with Mylar "space blankets" draped over their shoulders. I thought that looked pretty silly, but at the 18-mile point I asked for a blanket. It helped, especially on the lonely and dark leg down to the turn-around at the 20-mile point. By the time I made it to the 23-mile point I'd warmed up enough that I figured I could finish without the blanket. (I also didn't want to look too stupid running with a blanket through the Green Valley Ranch Station outdoor shopping district with a space blanket. Of course, I looked pretty stupid running in a sleeveless jersey and shorts anyway.) I crossed the line in 15:30:09. Slow, but I was a "Silverman Finisher".
This is a way cool race and I can't recommend it highly enough. The race director really has his stuff together. There are tons of volunteers, and they do an outstanding job. The schwag bag is the best you'll ever get. Dave Scott and Chris McCormack have been there the past two years signing autographs, telling funny stories, and racing the Half Silverman (although Dave didn't race this year). The course, from the swim in Lake Mead to the spectacular bike to the hilly run is challenging but lots of fun. You won't set a PR here (except for folks like Paul and George who did this as their first ever long course triathlon), but you'll enjoy it more than any other race you do.
muffinman
http://www.silvermannv.com/
Last Sunday was not a sunny day. There are several threads on the Slowtwitch forums discussing the race last Sunday. If you go there and do a search for "Silverman", you can see what other folks have to say. (Sorry, I can't get the "insert link" to work, but you can copy and paste the following link. Check out "2nd Crack at Silverman". Same guy wrote up his experience this year, with more photos of this year's cloudy weather.)
http://forum.slowtwitch.com/
I arrived in Henderson on Friday for packet pickup and the pre-race dinner. The weather was beautiful. Saturday I hit the pancake breakfast then went out to Lake Mead to drop off my bike. While I was there, I went for a short run. Again, beautiful weather. The weather forecast for Sunday was calling for slightly cooler temperatures and party cloudy skies with a 30% chance of rain. Sounded good for a long course race. I went to the pre-race meeting and there were a few comments about the weather, but still, it didn't sound too bad. I went back to my room, finished grading some chemistry lab reports, and was asleep by ten o'clock.
Sunday morning, up at 3:30, on the shuttle bus at 4:00, arrived at the race start early, stretched out on the carpet in the changing tent, and just relaxed. Once it started to get light outside, I took a peek at the weather. "Hey, this doesn't look too bad! Not too cold, a few clouds (so we won't have to deal with the sun on the last leg of the swim), and almost no wind. Heck, this is going to be great! I was happy that I'd decided to go with my sleeveless wetsuit since the water was almost 70 degrees. It looked like I wouldn't need any "cold weather gear" for the bike either, so I took my gloves, arm warmers, and turtle neck shirt out of my swim-to-bike bag and put them in my dry clothes bag so they wouldn't get wet. The gun went off for the swim right on time at 6:30 and we were off!
The first part of the swim was a piece of cake. The water in Lake Mead is so much cleaner than what we have here in Eastern NM/West TX. You can actually see the other swimmers around you, so I was able to draft off a couple of other swimmers. There was a little chop, but less than what you get at Buffalo Springs most years. I was thinking, "Gosh, I'll probably have a really fast swim time. Maybe I can actually try to "race" today."
And then the cold front arrived.
All that I knew from my position in the water was that suddenly we were swimming through some really big waves. I found out later that a 40 mph gust of wind hit the beach and blew a bunch of stuff over. The temperature dropped about 10 degrees. In the water, we were swimming into three foot waves and blowing spray kicked up by the 20 mph headwind with gusts to 40 mph. I couldn't see the next buoy, so I just started swimming in the general direction of the boat ramp. Eventually another swimmer came up beside me. It looked like she knew where she was going, so I started drafting off her. (And because it was a woman and not a man, I knew she'd stop and ask for directions if we got lost!) Eventually, we got close enough to the boat ramp to see and hear the people standing there, so I knew that I was going to make it. The last half-mile of the swim took 30 minutes. I didn't think I was working that hard, it's just that I was going so slowly. The funny thing was once my feet hit the sandy beach, my legs were absolutely rubber. I couldn't stand up for about 20 seconds. I had never had this happen before, and it was more funny than alarming.
Fellow Outlaw Paul was in the changing tent. We congratulated each other on surviving the swim. At this point, I was really questioning my decision to get rid of my cold weather gear. Was a sleeveless Outlaw jersey and trishorts going to be enough? But I figured I'd warm up once I got going on the bike. As soon as you leave T-1, you have a pretty good one-mile climb from the boat ramp to the main highway. Paul and I rode together for a while, and I did start to feel comfortably warm. I said goodbye to Paul and settled in for what I figured to be a seven-hour ride.
And then it started to rain. And sleet. And the wind kept blowing, and gusting. It's one thing to stay warm without adequate clothing if it's cold. It's impossible when you're wet and you're dealing with wind. I was really getting cold. The bike course at Silverman has (so I've read) 11,000 feet of climbing. But you get to go downhill quite a bit too. Not that this makes up for the time lost climbing, but at least it's something. However, given the slick roads and gusting crosswinds, it was all most of us could do to go downhill at 10-15 mph without going off into the ditch. Some riders did go off the road, and apparently one rider crashed hard enough that he had to be medevaced off the course. I started thinking about how much time I had until the bike cutoff, and pretty much gave up on having any kind of fast time.
After an hour or so, the worst of the storm front had passed. It was still cold, it would occasionally rain, and it was mostly cloudy. However, I was no longer shivering uncontrollably and I could think about things other than how cold I was. I was grabbing a gel at each of the aid stations, but one time I couldn't get it open because my hands were so cold. About 10 miles before the bike turn around, Andy Cope (from Mesa, AZ) caught up to me. He had been in the water for two hours, and he was happy to be out on the bike. We saw Paul and then George Ferland (from Artesia, NM) heading back in on the bike. They had almost a 20-mile lead on us. Andy took off, but the thought of getting to the turn around picked up my spirits. The turn around comes at 51 miles, and then at 60 miles you hit the longest climb of the day. Three miles long and about 1000 feet of climbing, it takes a lot out of you. After that, it was 30 miles of more climbing and headwinds before you hit the "Three Sisters". These are three short but steep (18%) hills on a bike path. Everyone at Silverman talks about them, most people with some degree of trepidation. I'm not a very strong climber, but these hills don't bother me too much. Sure, they're steep, and the fact that you've already done a pretty tough 93-mile ride makes them even tougher, but I can climb them slowly out of the saddle in a 39x25 gear without blowing up. Some folks do walk up them, though. After I'd made it up the last "Sister", I looked over my shoulder to see how much I'd climbed. I saw a really neat rainbow (we still had occasional rain showers) and I thought that maybe this was a sign that the rest of the day would go well. Not so fast. I settled back onto my saddle and started pedalling and then suddenly I started to cramp in my left quad. I started to favor the left quad and my right hammy started to cramp. Whoa, OK, ease up on the right side, and then my left glute started to cramp. Back and forth, back and forth, for the next couple minutes I was just fighting off cramps. Guess the Three Sisters had gotten a piece of me after all. Once the cramping went away, I figured I could pretty much coast into T-2, but then I started to get some tendinitis in my right knee. Wow, I've still got to run 26.2 miles. This could get ugly.
In the changing tent I commiserated with another competitor. We were both in "survival mode" by then, but just finishing this race is not so bad. I headed out on the run, knowing from doing the Half Silverman that the first mile is downhill and that I wouldn't be able to keep the same pace for the rest of the run. Still, it gives you hope that you'll have a good run when you go through the first mile in eight minutes. Then you hit a two-mile climb, and reality sets in. I wasn't worried about finishing before the cutoff at midnight, but I knew I was going to be slow. The run course doubles back on itself on a few legs and you run two laps, so you get to see a lot of people. I saw Paul, George, and Andy a couple of times. Paul and George were having pretty good races, and Andy was having a good run. Me? I was sampling whatever they had to eat and drink at each of the aid stations. Every now and then I'd feel the tendinitis and I knew even if I felt like running faster I couldn't. By the time I started the second lap it was dark. And then it really got cold. I wasn't moving fast enough to stay warm. A lot of folks were "running" with Mylar "space blankets" draped over their shoulders. I thought that looked pretty silly, but at the 18-mile point I asked for a blanket. It helped, especially on the lonely and dark leg down to the turn-around at the 20-mile point. By the time I made it to the 23-mile point I'd warmed up enough that I figured I could finish without the blanket. (I also didn't want to look too stupid running with a blanket through the Green Valley Ranch Station outdoor shopping district with a space blanket. Of course, I looked pretty stupid running in a sleeveless jersey and shorts anyway.) I crossed the line in 15:30:09. Slow, but I was a "Silverman Finisher".
This is a way cool race and I can't recommend it highly enough. The race director really has his stuff together. There are tons of volunteers, and they do an outstanding job. The schwag bag is the best you'll ever get. Dave Scott and Chris McCormack have been there the past two years signing autographs, telling funny stories, and racing the Half Silverman (although Dave didn't race this year). The course, from the swim in Lake Mead to the spectacular bike to the hilly run is challenging but lots of fun. You won't set a PR here (except for folks like Paul and George who did this as their first ever long course triathlon), but you'll enjoy it more than any other race you do.
muffinman
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