After my tremendous blow-up earlier this year in CdA, I (naturally) figured that I should try my hand at the silly distance that is Ironman yet again.  Thus, Ironman Arizona was the goal for the end of the season and training began in earnest in mid-July following my recovery from CdA.  Also, my brother (“Fat Matt”) was coming out to watch, so I was uber-pumped.

The days leading up to the race were chill, the only downfall was that I had a sore throat…fortunately, I diagnosed (by looking in the mirror) that it was a canker-sore.  Given my extended knowledge of the field of medicine due to my strong grades in my sophomore (in high school!) biology class, I ignored it. Giving that it is STILL bothering me (~10 days later as I type) perhaps I should go get it checked out?!?

Race day morning was boring, though my bagels from the hotel had hardened overnight into stones of death:

I chowed down, losing no teeth in the process and survived to race start.

Though the air temperature was brisk, I was pleasantly surprised when jumping into the water (~62 degrees) that it felt warmer than the air.  I proceeded to place myself near the front of the swim pack.  The swim went off without a hitch, though I think I settled down a bit too early and probably swam a bit crooked.  However, still managed another 58-and-change swim so could not complain.

After a blazing transition, I rolled onto the bike course planning to chow down a billion calories on the first loop (of three), while “just chillin’” and keep the effort easy, but constant.  Though I had some stiffness in my back, after stopping at mile 18 to crack it, the stiffness lessened.  My splits for the bike course were ridiculously even, at 1:45-and-change for all three, leaving me with a 5:16 bike split (and no penalties!). The only thing I was frustrated by was how flat this course was (relative to CdA) and the fact that I biked the exact same time.  Oh well.  Whatever.  CRUSH the run.

Taking off on the run, I felt alright and strolled through the first mile just under 6:30.  A little quick, so I held back and dropped mile splits between 6:40 and 6:50 through the halfway point.  Around mile 5 or so I picked up one of the Pros, Gudmund Snilstveit (from Norway) who was going for his country record of 8:40ish.  We proceeded to run together for for about 10 miles (chatting about the fact that I’m doing Norseman next year; he called me insane) and he drifted back a little bit, so I said “crush it” and kept plodding along.  He stayed reasonably close through my second lap, as I checked on him here-and-there, and was happy to find out later (from my brother) that he got his national record with an 8:38!  He also told my bro “Tell your brother thanks for pushing me.”  I couldn’t have been happier.  A quick snapshot around where I picked up Gudmund:

Back to my run…I ran pretty consistently (though slightly slower) through mile 16 or so, dropping down to about 7:00 and was preparing to pickup the pace a bit for the close around mile 22-23, hoping for a ~3:00 mary.  Alas, it wasn’t to be.  Around mile 21 I started to feel LIKE SHIT.  I was crushing the coke, stopped by the can (I couldn’t pee), eating cookies, oranges, more coke, water but was still feeling crappy.  I walk-ran to an aid station around 22.5 and proceeded to stumble around, unable to grab anything the entirety of the aid station (a feat-in-and-of-itself if you know how long these aid stations are).  After getting through the aid station, a volunteer stopped me and asked if I needed anything.  I responded “sugar”. The next few moments are a blur…

The EMT’s came by, asked me how I was doing, what my name was, etc. and though I knew the answers, I struggled to respond quickly.  I then felt a little weak and felt myself begin to fall and the EMT saying “He’s goin’ dude”.  The next thing I know they took me on a stretcher into the ambulance and shaking extensively, leading to them asking if I had a history of seizures.  I was able to respond no.  About 20′ later we were sitting in the hospital room and I was beginning to make inappropriate jokes as my brother arrived (after being called by the EMT).  The EMT asked “Do you remember passing out dude?”  I was shocked.  I SWORE I maintained consciousness the WHOLE TIME, but he reiterated, “Yeah dude, you passed out a couple of times.”  Ridiculous.  And I still SWEAR I was conscious the whole time.

Now, before I go, a litany of mad-props:

• Timex Teammates Victor Zyemtsev (3rd overall!!), Dave Harju, Marie Danais, Daniel Brienza, Luis Alvarez and Juli Fiocca for their late-season racing crush-fest
• Buddy Thomas Gerlach for a great pro debut
• My coach Mike Lavery, who has been very supportive throughout the past couple years, bringing me to the athlete I am today (not the non-finishing one; the occassionally-finishing-fast one)
• My little brother Matt (senior in high school), who is actually not fat and owns the Vermeersch family record in the mile (but not real races like the 2-mile)…it was his first tri as a spectator and I believe he is planning on coming to Norseman for Round II in a continuance of his lackey duties…
• Team Manager Tristan Brown and Team Mechanic Doug Berner for their great work
• Gudmund Snilstveit, for attaining his Norwegian national record
• The volunteer who yanked me off the course
• The EMT’s who stole me from the volunteer and made sure I didn’t take a further trip down the rabbit-hole
• The doctors and nurses who helped nurse me back to health in the ER
• And for those of you who’ve actually made it this far reading–mad props to you too!

What an adventure.  A national record.   A trip for my bro.  A trip to the hospital.  All in one race!  The unfortunate thing is that though I don’t think I drank enough on the bike (they put two bags of fluid in me at the hospital) I feel as though the rest of my race was smart.  Perhaps my nutrition was off?  Did my pre-race beer the night before have something to do with it? Was I really THAT dehydrated?  Not having anything to point the finger to and say “Ah-hah, that’s it” leaves me frustrated.  I’ve had a mental blow-up in an Ironman (CdA) and a physical blow-up in an Ironman (Arizona) in two attempts.  Will I ever get it right?!?

However, that is why we race.  To learn.  Learn how to get it right.  Learn how to live…live life to it’s fullest.

Until next time, peace…

Alright.  So I’m like several months behind writing blog posts.  So, in an attempt to satisfy all six of my fans (my mother and her 2 pet cats quickly cut that number in half) I will attempt to delve waaaaay back into the dark regions of my mind to share some epic Hometown Racing!!

LA Triathlon

I hate Olympic-distance triathlons.  In the past year, I’ve learned I have one speed: half-Ironman.  This leads to weak-sauce performances in shorter races and epic blow-ups in Ironman races. 

First off, while getting ready in transition, I hear the “PFFT” of an exploding tire.  Meanwhile, I’m puttering around wonder what poor putz had the unfortunate experience of a tire deflating on race day.  ALAS, five minutes later I learn I AM that poor person: my disc wheel had taken a crap.  After weeping for five more minutes (I did not bring spare equipment) I sprinted over to the bike tent and miraculously was the first in line.  I learned that the rim strip had finally decided to take a nose-dive and we quickly used electrical tape and “patched ‘er up”.  On to the race.

I sucked in the swim.  Sighting was difficult even with clear goggles.  Boo-hoo to me.  Moving on.

The entire bike ride I put it in high gear (a.k.a. about 3% harder than half-Ironman gear) and managed to ride slightly over an hour.  I found out later that I managed to pick up a positioning penalty on the bike, adding two minutes to my time.  To this day I still have no idea what I did, but (save one) every single person in the Elite wave ending behind me ended up with the same penalty.  Not sure what the ref was seeing, but oh well.  It only cost me a place.  There are bigger tragedies in the world.

I ran pretty well, picking off several people and throwing down a 35-and-change 10k off the bike.

Net, net, a 2:07 and 5th place finish in the Elite wave.  Acceptable, but unfortunate given my 2:00 bike penalty and horrendous swim (literally the worst swim since starting racing).  A quick picture of the Elite podium (I’m the super-tiny dude on the left):

Onto the following weekend…

Manhattan Beach 10k

Boom.  An open 10k.  A race distance I have never run, so it was guaranteed a PR.  I was hoping to crushify my prior week’s 10k time from the LA Triathlon.  The plan was to make it my long run for the week, running 30-40 minutes before-hand then tempo the first 5k and then rip it through the last 5k.  Simple right?  WRONG.

The first three miles went as planned.  With splits between 5:35 and 5:45, a nice tempo pace.  And at slightly over 3 miles, it was HAMMER-TIME.  Commence play-by-play…

Mile 3

Legs…not…responding…to…HAMMER-TIME…

Okay.  I’ll wait a mile, then we’ll amp it up and throw down the pace.

Mile 4

Sputter.  Bang.  Clank.  Waiting another mile.

Mile 5

Giant hill.  Shuffle.  Saunter.

Mile 5.5

Look around frantically.  Think “Where is Paul?”

Mile 5.7

This straight-away sucks.  It goes on forever.  “Where is Paul?”

Mile 5.8

See Paul.  Commence mimosa hand-off:

Mile 5.9

Turn.  It.  On.

Mile 6.0

Blazing speed.  I would estimate it at ~3:30 per mile pace, give or take about 3:30.

Mile 6.1

Yes.  I’m really running at 0:00 seconds per mile. 

Mile 6.2

Cross finish.  Even with the last 0.1 miles at 0:00 seconds, I managed to get housed by ~1:00 by my 5k time from the prior weekend.  Ahhh, the sweet taste of defeat…and mimosas…

Now, as is tradition…

MULTI-RACE MAD PROPS!!!

Haha you six fans…I DID NOT forget my super-uber-sweet mad props…

• Bike-Tech Guy from LA Triathlon weekend (name is escaping me at the moment) for fixing my disc wheel
• Tower 26 Coach Gerry Rodrigues for telling me I need to show up for swim practice more frequently (I agree Gerry)
• Paul M., for the epic (and successful!) in-race-mimosa-hand-off
• Friends Janelle and Kevin Nerison, for letting me store my crap at their house pre-MB10k and for taking me to the beer tent after

That’s all I’ve got for now.

Until next time, peace…

I went into Kona this year optimistic. Of course there’s always something going on, this year I had two major issues;

1) Busted foot; I’ve been able to control the swelling through physical therapy with Bob Cranny, ART with Richard Hansen, ice and aqua jogging. Allowing me to make it through long runs in training

2) Nutrition; after last year’s GI issues I tried numerous nutrition plans and found the most optimal for my body which consists of powerbar gels, carbo pro and fig newtons.

I arrived in Kona on Wednesday pre-race which I’ve learned now does not allow adequate time to acclimate to the heat. We immediately dove into the Kona Ironman “circus show” activities. This included the underpants run, swimming to the floating coffee bar, multiple trips to Lava Java and the Kona Brewing company, welcome dinner, training rides and runs.

Race morning had finally arrived, I was pretty nervous since I hadn’t competed at the ironman distance since Kona 2010. After checking over my bike and transition bags for the final time I headed to find some friends. Keith and Tristan recorded a brief pre-race interview, next I found Jackie in the bathroom. We gossiped to calm our nerves before bidding farewell and wishing each other luck. After another 20 minutes of waiting and building up energy it was time to enter the water. Once the drums start playing reality sets in, unfortunately I don’t have the naive mindset like last year. I now knew exactly what I was in for and how many obstacles this day would bring. I entered the water with the masses and went to the same starting position as last year, just to the right of the car about 4 people deep. Once positioned I still had 10 minutes before the start, I flipped on my back to relax controlling my breathing and giving myself some mental encouragement.

Soon enough the cannon shot and we were off. The start was much more physical for me this year. In retrospect I should have gone up to the front row, because I was battling for the first 800 meters. I got stuck behind some slower swimmers but was caged in, I made multiple attempts to break free which resulted in getting punched in the face every time. My goggles were knocked off filling with water on one side which I had to leave for fear of getting trampled should I pause to empty them. The sun was shining so bright I was forced to breath only to the right swimming out. I finally gave up and settled into swimming on slower feet. As we neared the turn around boat everyone merged together again forcing me to slow down to avoid a kick to the face. After this the swimmers finally thinned out. I was still not in a great draft, but at least I could get a swim rhythm down. As we approached the last few buoys I finally broke free from my “slow feet” and swam in my own water, picking up the pace significantly. I knew swimming in my time would be a disappointment. It was a choppy swim this year and my positioning was just not ideal. As I exited the ocean I saw my time of 1:00.10, even after mentally preparing for this slower time it was still disappointing to see it. One thing I’ve learned racing Ironman is it’s necessary to plan for the unplanned. Multiple aspects of the race will go wrong and you cannot dwell on them, so this was my first obstacle to overcome. Losing 4 minutes due to a poor swim start is not going to break my race, I can make it up.

After a quick and more crowded transition than I’m used to I hopped on my bike. My coach and I decided on specific wattage to hold throughout the race. This is most important during the first 40K because everyone feels strong and wants to ride fast; I resisted riding hard with them and stuck to the plan. I did so and rode with teammate Susanne Davis, passing each other back and forth multiple times throughout the first 30 miles. At mile 20 my coach and ex-Timex teammate, Curt Chesney, passed me. He offered words of encouragement, confirming I’m sticking with our plan holding back to save energy for the run. Shortly afterwards ex-teammate Mike Lavery rode by. This excited me because if they were both that far behind everyone must have had slow swims.

At mile 30 a referee rides up holding up a red card. I have a lot of experience in drafting penalties and this was the first time I honestly have no idea why it was given. I sat up and looked around, I was riding completely solo. At this point I know it’s too late and arguing is simply a waste of energy, so I thanked the referee for the break and rode on to the penalty tent. There were so many racers in the penalty tent I had to wait 1 minute just to start a watch which then I had to share. Time ticked by slowly as bikers zoomed past, my 2^nd obstacle of the day I had to overcome. I wasn’t going to let this ruin my race. After possibly fulfilling my watch partners triathlon fantasy (don’t ask) the 4 minutes had finally passed and I was back out on the course.

Now I was riding with the masses, I was getting sucked into small pelotons. Determined not to get another drafting penalty I attempted to ride off the front but was unsuccessful as any climb we approached the group would catch and engulf me. I finally sat up to let them pass, taking down some nutrition in preparation for the winds of Hawi where I would surely be unable to take anything down. Riding out to Hawi there were no cross winds like last year but insanely strong headwinds. I was pushing 270 watts and moving 9 miles per hour. The turnaround couldn’t come soon enough, it finally did and weeeeeeeeee riding with the tail wind felt amazing. No pedaling and flying at 40 miles per hour, what a relief. The tail wind was exactly what I needed to recharge and get back in the game.

Mile 80 was where my plan was to turn on the juice and pick up the pace. My legs weren’t feeling as fresh as I would have hoped, but I attempted to increase wattage. The last 25 miles riding were brutal. My lower back was aching, my legs were sore but I still had a slight tailwind which I was very thankful for. I finally arrived back to transition feeling deflated but determined to continue on to run the marathon.

While changing my shorts in transition I sat for just a moment giving myself a mental pep talk. As I ran out I saw so many friends cheering me on, I couldn’t help but smile. (even if I was faking it)

Only 1 mile into the run I had nothing in my legs, yes my foot hurt and my stomach was slightly sloshing but the issue was just no fire in my legs. They felt weak; it was a struggle just putting 1 foot in front of the other. This was when my greatest fear entered my mind, I need to drop out, the dreaded DNF. So I made the conscious decision to run the first 5 miles at which point I could re-evaluate my body. At the turn around I wasn’t feeling better but also no worse so I decided to jog to mile 10 and reassess then. I’ve never walked in a race before but planned to walk up Palani drive. Ugh, starting up running after taking a walk break ruins the break. My quads were on fire, I pushed the negative thoughts out and decided I had come this far and would finish what I started. I pressed on down the Queen K seeing Curt run by looking strong then Lavery. This gave me joy to see friends having successful races. A few miles down the road I saw Susanne who seemed to be having an awesome day. Next I saw Jackie who shared my pain, she was having a rough day, we gave each other an understanding look and exchanged encouraging words. I knew by now my Bambi legs were in full effect.

Entering the energy lab I was battling to just keep running. I grabbed my special needs bag thinking to myself how impossible it would be to force more calories down my throat. I allowed myself to walk up the hill exiting the energy lab. As I reached the top of the hill that was it, now I was angry for letting myself go this slow. I stripped down to a sports bra, ditched my calories and just started running. I had 8 miles to go, calories weren’t going to help my upset stomach and walking wasn’t resulting in anything but more pain. So I ran, I ran through the pain with nothing in my mind but the finish line. The last miles seemed to take an eternity. When I finally hit Palani I was so ecstatic; I ran through the cheering crowds, all time goals out the window just happy to complete this very difficult race.

As I passed college friend Mike Lorenzen just before the final stretch I announced I would never compete in this race again. I said this last year, and I know I will eventually be back to prove myself. I have so much respect for anyone that can race in Kona successfully; I hope to someday be a member of this elite club.  The ironman distance is difficult but IronmanHawaii is in a league of it’s own.

I was very lucky to have wonderful friends in Kona supporting me. Post race we headed for dinner and drinks followed by the midnight finish line celebration which is never to be missed. After which we brought my bike to the bar and continued the celebrations.

We fully enjoyed the remainder of our time on the island which consisted of scuba diving, luau’s, off road Jeeping in Waipio Valley, snorkeling, outrigger canoe trips, ziplining, swimming with dolphins, birthday celebrations and lots of eating!

Cda Triathlon…possibly my favorite Olympic race in the world…possibly. This year it would serve as the USAT Regional Olympic Distance Championship. If you have not read my last blog post on the Cda Triathlon, you may want to in order to understand my battles with this race (click HERE to go to that post).

Fast forward to the day before the race. I was already packed, ready to roll. I decided to go for a short prep ride on my race set up. All felt good except I was having some trouble with my front derailleur. Earlier in the week, I noticed that a zip tie had cut one of the wires and made the front derailleur inoperable. Since I use Shimano Di2, which is electric, not cable, this could pose a problem (foreshadowing). But I was able to manipulate it a bit to get it to work…so I thought I’d be okay. I decided to double check it when I got home, and it was no longer working. Crap! So I spent about 2 hours trying a variety of different ways to get it to connect. It worked from time to time, but not consistently, and not enough to make me feel confident enough to race with it. The Cda course is HILLY. I thought for a moment that I might be able to ride in the big ring…like I said, for a moment.

I got on the phone and called all the local shops to see if they had a new wire set…no luck. They had some suggestions to get it to work, but none seemed to fix the problem. I made a few more calls and was left empty handed. To start with, Di2 is not really on the shelf in very many shops, and ‘extra parts’ are nonexistent. Since I have di2 on my road bike too, I thought I could borrow some of the wires from it. So I disassembled my TT bike and road bike only to find out there are completely different connectors. Crap #2. Now I have 2 bikes completely taken apart, and still don’t have a race bike that works. It was now late afternoon and I needed to head to Cda to check in for the race that I am starting to wonder if I will be able to do.

I was home again at about 6:30pm looking at a bike that was in shambles. I decided to go back to mechanical shifting…yup, cables. So I got Jessi’s TT bike and took off the front shift lever and the front derailleur. I got some SIS housing and a new cable that I had for some reason. I fitted my Orbea with the cable and housing and routed all the cables internally in the frame and aero bars…never easy. I got it all adjusted, wrapped the bars again, took it for a 2 block ride, made a couple adjustments, and loaded it in the car. Live by electronics, die by electronics. I was feeling a little bit country and little bit rock and roll, but I could shift from my small ring to my big ring…life was a little better.

 Which looks better…right or left?

 Not exactly the cleanest look

A battery next to a traditional front der.

I went to bed still wondering if my front derailleur would work though. Zzzzz.

I woke up and had everything ready to roll. Breakfast, bottles, coffee… all was set. I was a little behind as to when I ‘wanted’ to leave, but I was still good. I hopped in the car, turned the key, and my battery was dead. Crap #3! Since it was about 4:45am, and dark, this was not part of the ‘plan.’ I backed Jessi’s car up next to mine to ‘jump it’ with cables, but our batteries were on the opposite sides. Cables were too short. So I went into the garage and got our battery charger, which has a ‘start’ function. So, finally, I was off and running, hopefully all the way to Cda.

Fortunately the drive to Cda was uneventful…I was happy for that. But I ended up arriving about 1:10 minutes before my start. That is pretty close for me. It also meant that the transition area would be pretty full and I would get a bad spot. But I know how to eek out some room. But it still takes me some time to get all set up. The race started at 7:00 for the 39 and under, and 7:10 for the 40 and over. Since this was a USAT race, I was racing 40 and up and would start in the second group. This had some advantages and probably more disadvantages. But it was what it was.

The ‘young guys’ took off and it gave me some time to get ready. I don’t think I even had my wetsuit on yet, typical. I went down to the start and got in about a 100 yard warm up. Just enough to make sure my goggles did not leak and my Orca 3.8 was fitting perfectly. They gave us the 1 minute to go call, and I started my TIMEX Global Trainer. The horn sounded and the race took off like a shot.  I started running into the slower swimmers from the prior wave fairly quickly and that required me to do a bit more spotting and weaving.  As I was approaching the exit, I knew I needed to be fast. I also knew I needed to prepare to hear how far I was down on the others too. Most people who were giving me splits, knew I started 10 minutes down, and some would just tell me how far I was down on my wave. Both are good information. I quickly made it through transition and was given numbers, and times of things I had no clue they were connected to. But eventually it would all make sense.

I was looking forward to this bike leg because it’s a course that I know pretty well now. I have spent a little time on it over the past years and feel that there are some sections that you can get an advantage in if you know the course. Those that have raced this course (was also the 1999 and 2000 USAT Nationals Course, one that Bruce Gennari won) know that it is anything but flat…or straight. As I was moving along the first 5 miles of the bike, I was passing quite a few people. I did not know if they were from my swim start or not, but it really did not matter. I knew what effort to ride and I had my nutrition pretty well set. As I started the first real climb, I saw Jessi, Emma and Owen on the side of the road cheering. They gave me splits on the first wave, which was great, but the most important questions was, did they actually start 10 minutes behind? Because if they didn’t, the information would be off.  I saw Jessi a couple more times and knew I was putting time into them, and I would need as much as possible.

T2 was quick and the crowd had already seen about 10 guys through…all from the wave that was 10 minutes up. I was leading the 40+ group, and was working my way into the other wave pretty deep. I was excited to run in my new K-Swiss K-Ruuz race flats. The run is pretty flat which I don’t mind, but it allows pure runners to move along quite well. After 2 miles I think I had about 2:30 on the lead of the race. I figured they were not putting a lot, if any, time into my lead. I passed a few more runners and was still feeling good. At about mile 4 I started to sputter a bit, but again, seeing Jessi and others out on the course really helped keep my spirits up. I hit mile 5 and started seeing a lot of the other runners coming out and that, for some reason, helped me pick up the pace a little.

 I saw Jessi one more time with about a ½ mile to go and she gave me a few more yells and confidence boosters. I started to think that I might just win this race. But you never know until you cross that line. As I approached the line, I could see the 5 guys that finished before me, and after I crossed, the guy who was the 1st across the line said, “You won it man, you were about 2 minutes faster.” It was a little anticlimactic to cross 6^th and really be first. Not so much for the glory of it all, more for the knowledge that you won.  I still wanted to hear it from the officials. Soon, that affirmation was given. I was also told that I was the ‘oldest’ guy to ever win this race. I think that’s a compliment? I will take it that way regardless.

Cda Press article

Here is a video by Dave Erickson (www.swimbikerunvideos.com). Check out his site for more triathlon related videos and more. Cda Tri video.

Bike is back to normal…rest easy

Hello from Quebec, Can

Racing in Tempe, Arizona last weekend was a nice break from the cool temps in Quebec and a good race to finish off the season.

The temperature ended up being almost perfect, a little cool in the morning, but perfect in the afternoon. The wind was fairly calm, increasing slightly throughout the day. The temperature of the water was 62deg, so a full-length wetsuit was definitely recommended.

The wide swim start at Tempe town lake made for little physical contact, amongst the pros at least, and wavy for most of the 3.8k.  I started in a good position, just a little off centre (it seemed like there were 2 groups, left and right). The whirlpool effect was working well, but unfortunately the big pack split just before half way. This is why it is good to be at or near the front of the pack, one would not miss the break. But, I missed the break, but stayed comfortably in a pack of 5-6.  The pace was too easy, so I had a bad feeling it was not going to be a fast time. I exited the steep ladder in just under 57mins and comfortable…aside from cold feet. It was a few mins slower than the 53-55min swim that I was hoping for, but okay for the long day to come.

I quickly mounted my bike and was off on the relatively flat and technical course; including many turns and navigation passing on the 2nd and 3rd loops. I followed my watts and HR via my computer and Timex race trainer, so I was aware that I was not over exerting myself, rather maybe taking it too easy. My watts dropped on the 2nd and 3rd loops, but I was riding the same speed as 4 other competitors in my proximity. I think I am better off all alone, but it is hard to stay that way on a course such as this. My HR varied between 110’s and 120’s, so I know it was attainable to maintain, but maybe not aggressive enough. Thanks to Doug Berner for the the Orbea bike tune-up resulting in perfect shifting. My eventual time on my Orbea, (TT bike) was 4h43. Not the 4:30’s I was hoping for, but I exerted less effort. One big side not is that I missed my special needs which contained 1300 kcal of my planned energy;  therefore very impt and a foreshadowing of things to come. Off to T2…

After changing my shorts and race belt for running gear I began running olong the lake at 5h45 on the clock. I was hoping for 5h30-45, so I was at the at the end of my goal range. I knew that under 9hrs was still very doable, as I have been focusing on my run since IM Lou. However, my stomach was upset and therefore difficult to push my HR up to my level of fitness. Due to the fact I missed my special needs, I was very short on cals and I grabbed a gel or 2 at every aid station the first 5 miles. At mile 4 on the run I stopped at a port-a-pottie to go pee, but quickly realized something else was coming out as well (I had diarrhea). I continued on, running around 7min per mile, but every time I had to stop (5 times by the end) I lost a min or 2 and could not run hard for very long before my stomach started turning again. In order to keep enough energy I ate around 15-20 PowerBar gels on the course, compared with my usual 2-3. This may have aggravated my upset stomach.  After the first lap of 3, I was still on a pace to go under 9hrs, but the continued toilet stops was meaning that I had to speed up to stay on pace.

At the end of the day I am overall very content with my effort and taper, giving me a 9:08 time and feeling great muscularly and physically (heart and lungs) right to the end. My stomach ended up being an unfortunte limiting factor today. The ironic thing is the day before I was discussing digestive problems with Kim Loeffleur who had could not run in both Hawaii and FL due to digestion problems. I guess after my race she may not be considering my suggestions.

Now, a few months of general cardio, strength and specific sport technique work before specific preparations for a spring 70.3.

Happy training,
Dave