8 weeks since Ironman CdA and I was back at it for Timberman, a half-iron. Weather was gorgeous and I was up at 4:30am for final prep, eating, etc. My uncle was up at 5:15am and we headed out to Lake Winnipesaukee, a 25 minute drive from his house, where the race was to start. Temperature was in the mid 60's and clear. It was going to be a good day. I was particularly psyched because this was to be the first race where I had a contingent of family watching the race. Tracy had joined me in Austin, but no one was at CdA. Tracy, my mom and Rich, my aunt and uncle, cousin Merri, and 3 of my 4 kids were all planning to be there. I was extremely happy to have the support and I knew that it would make the day that much better.
I had dropped off my bike the day before, so when I got dropped off on race day, I headed into transition with my gear bag and set up my nutrition for the day. I was pleased to see that we were going to be allowed to set up all of our gear at our bikes, instead of having to deal with multiple transition bags, which is what was required with both Ironman races I had done to that point. Of course, I quickly discovered that I hadn't gotten their early enough to claim the space that I needed/wanted, and was forced to jam my gear in between 2 others that were liberal in their placement of their gear. Ugh. Water, gatorade, gels, and protein bars. Pumped up the tires, set up my gear - shoes, helmut, glasses, number belt, etc.
The official start of the race was 7am, but my wave wasn't going off until 7:50am, so I had some time to hydrate, put on my wetsuit, and jam caffeine into my body. The beach was lined with racers and a familiar voice was announcing each start, exactly 5 minutes apart. By the time my wave was to go off, the pros would all be out of the water and on their bikes. The day was about to start and I was relaxed and ready. I even had enough time to reflect on how different my mindset was between my first race in Austin and this one at Timberman. This time, I knew exactly what to expect from the race and this one was more about the journey and the day then about times. Don't get me wrong, I was still aiming at a 6-hour-ish mark, but I wasn't stressing about it. I was going to go out and attack the course. Swim, bike, and run as hard as I could push it and if that meant that I blew up, so-be-it. Let's see what I can get my body to do, but also enjoy the day and the journey. I had finished both full and half irons now, so if this one ended in a DNF because I was pushing too hard, I could live with that.
Three minutes before our start and they announced the wave and asked us to line up at water's edge. With 2 minutes to go, they had us wade into the water and wait for the start. I lined up to the outside, mid-pack, so that I wouldn't be caught too badly in the fray that was to take place as we started. The kicking and banging at the swim start is one of my least favorite things. 3, 2, 1...GO!
Now, this is the part where you discover that 1 small change can have a fairly big impact on your race. A few minutes before the start, I heard someone suggest to another that they put their goggles on first, then their swim cap, so that they wouldnt lose their goggles if they got knocked around during the fray. I had never done that before and never had a problem. But, I thought it made sense, so I switched what I usually do and put my goggles on under my cap. Then, I didn't both to double-check the fit of my goggles in the water. As a result, I spent the first 1/2 mile of the swim dealing with badly leaking goggles. Emptying, adjusting, etc., over and over until I finally got them to stop leaking around the 1/2 mile mark, but it had taken its toll and would impact my swim time. And, as I suspected and would confirm in T1, I had lost a contact lense in the midst of it all and would have to take time to put in a new one.
Out of the swim in 41:41 and into transition. As I was running up the beach and pulled off my wetsuit, I glanced down at my watch to see my time. NO WATCH. What?! Must have fallen off as I was taking off my wetsuit. I went back, against a stream of racers, looking for my Garmin watch and, luckily, found it there are the beach. More time wasted. Not only did it come off, but it came apart at the pin that connects the band to the unit itself...it would take time to fix it. As soon as I got into transition, I tried fixing the watch. No luck. I spent what seemed like an eternity trying to get that little pin into both sides of the main unit. No luck. I put it down and went for my spare contact lenses and got that in. Then, I got the rest of my gear on before trying, one more time to fix my watch. As I was taking the time to fix my watch, I kept thinking about whether or not to just abandon my watch and go without it. On the bike, I largely use my bike computer, so that wouldn't be so bad, but the run uses it heavily to monitor my heart rate and pace. Luckily, I got it to snap back in and I was off and out of transition. With all of the messing with my watch, I screwed up the times, so I didn't find out until the end of the race that my T1 time was 8:42. Not short, but given how much time I thought I had spend in T1, I was pleasantly surprised.
Out on the bike and I could immediately tell I needed to start on my nutrition. I had learned at CdA what my legs and mind feel like when they need calories. So, I started right away and opened up a protein bar. I took one bite and realized that I was about to repeat my problem with the bars from CdA. Couldn't swallow. So, I threw the bar away and abandoned them. Luckily (or not), I had planned for this. I knew that this was a possiblity, so I had loaded up on gels that would take me through the bike, and adjusted my plan to take gels every 20 minutes, instead of alternating bars and gels every 30 minutes. And, to get past my hunger pangs, I would grab a banana or two out on the course.
This bike course was very hilly, with 9% grades in some cases. At CdA, I knock down my bike gears for those hills and saved my legs. Here, I attacked. I stayed in the highest gear I could manage and, in some cases, I cranked up a gear or two and got out of the saddle. It was a much better strategy, even though it hurt towards the end of each climb. I attacked the uphill and then spun out or, depending on the speed, rested my legs on the downhills. I was regularly doing 30+MPH on downhills and, at one point, hit a maximum speed of 47.2MPH according to my bike computer. Not exactly sure which hill that was, but I imagine it was the one that I braked into as I got a little nervous about how fast I was going.
Overall, it was a good bike ride. I was still happy to get off the bike, as I usually am, but I felt good coming off. As I came around the final turn and into transition, my entire family was there cheering me on. It was the first time I had seen them and found out later that they weren't able to make the swim because of traffic. I was psyched to see them and knew that I would look for and see them again, when I came out of transition. Bike 3:27:09. Not nearly as fast as I would have liked, but this was no flat course. Goal had been to match my Austin bike performance of just under 3 hours.
Off the bike and into T2 I felt pretty good. Legs were wobbly, but that is normal. If it weren't for my decision to put my medicated pads on my hips to prevent hip problems on the run, my T2 time would have been rocking. T2 was 4:45 and I was off on the run.
The whole time coming out of the main shoot and onto the course, I was looking for my crew. I found them on the opposite side of the entrance, where they had been, but wasn't able to get over to them, so I waved at them and went out on the course. I was feeling decent as I started the run. My cheering section had bolstered my spirit and I wasn't having any issues. I took cola (what?! they didn't flatten the cola???? bubbles wreaked havoc on me as I ran) at each station to make sure I staved off any nutrition problems, and threw ice in my hat wherever I could. At one point, they offered ice cold towels and I grabbed one and ran with it on my neck for the majority of the run, dumping ice water into it at each station to make sure I stayed cool.
There were all kinds of volunteers out and they were all having a good time. And so was I. I was chatting with some of them, doing a little dancing at stations where music was planing, and generally enjoying my time on the course. I felt strong for the first 6.5 mile loop and as I came back into the park for the start of my second loop, I saw my family again. This time, they were within reach, so I stopped, kissed my wife and my kids, and told my son that I would be back in one hour. He is all about time and numbers, so I knew he would be looking for me when I was coming to the finish. It was so great to have them there!
Around mile 8 or so, I started having GI issues. Stomach wasn't so great. There were periods of walking to try and get past those issues. Finally, after a mile or two, I was back in business. Still feeling really strong and good. If only the stomach had been OK, the whole run would have been good. The final mile of the run, I was moving. I felt really, really good and I was pushing hard. My final mile, after some slower miles, was 9:13. I was pretty happy with my ability to crank it up for that last mile +.
Coming into the finish, I looked for my family in the same spot they were during the first lap but didnt see them. I raced through the finish line, which is where I found them. Happiness all around! Total run time 2:17:34.
My total time for the race was 6:39:51. Not great, but I enjoyed the journey. I enjoyed the race and wasn't so hung up on the race itself or my times. I loved having my family there to experience the race with me, and see me work through such a long day and race. Timberman was a good and challenging course. We may just dance again, Timberman.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
CdA Race Recap
That was one of the most physically and mentally challenging things that I have ever done. Coeur d'Alene Ironman 2011. It took me 14 hours, 47 minutes, and 2 seconds to complete; the longest time I have ever spent in continuous activity. In the end, I still can't believe it.
This is a long one, so hold on...
The day started out the same as my other big races - Austin Longhorn 70.3, NYC Marathon, etc. I didn't sleep well the night before because of anxiety, as expected, and I was up before my alarm which was set for 3:30am. Race wasn't until 7am, but transition opened at 5am and I wanted to be up, fed, and out in time to get a parking spot near the start. The main reason I felt I needed to be close was because I fully expected to have trouble getting around after the race and I didn't want to have to go far to get to my car. I ate, drank a 32oz Gatorade, and a Red Bull, ran through all of my checklists in my head, and left for the start, about 2 miles from my hotel.
Because I was so early, I had some time to burn and sat in my car to stay warm, since it was only 42 degrees outside at 4:30am. While there, I traded some texts with Tracy, Chris Draper, and other friends who were up at 7am ET. People slowly starting filling the lot I was parked in and, around 5:30am, I got out and went to get marked with my #1630 and to set up my nutrition on my bike. I knew it was going to be the start of a very long day.
I had set a number of goal times for each leg of the race, but I also knew that the last 4 weeks saw little of the training that I needed to meet those times. I hadn't put in the time and I was sure that I would pay for it. Turns out, I was right. My primarly goal was to finish and to race my race, listening to what my body was telling me. You can't try to cheat Ironman by not putting in the training hours, because it will make you pay.
Walking up to transition, I walked by the pros rack and saw my buddy, Craig Alexander, and others setting up their bikes. They were set to go off at 6:25am in order to give them enough of a headstart that all of the rest of us wouldn't get in their way. Craig is shorter than I am, but as solid as they come. When I took a picture with him on the Friday before, we put are arms around one other for the photo and he was solid. You have to be to do what he and these pros do on a regular basis.
I walked into transition and did a quick setup and then changed into my wetsuit and checked in my clothes bag until after the race. The feel of this race was different than any I had been to before. Austin had sort of a casual feel to it, but CdA had some sort of intense, yet welcoming atmosphere. I don't know how exactly to describe it, but you felt like you were about to bond with 2499 other people in doing something really special.
At 6:30, transition closed and everyone started making their way to the beach. It was still cold, but I was warm (except my feet and hands) because of my wetsuit. The water temp was still a whopping 58 degrees, which still had my worried. Even with a wetsuit, that is cold enough to take your breath away. We watched as the pros finished the first of 2 laps just before we were set to start. The beach was crowded with what I found out was 2430 other triathletes, some 900+ were doing their first Ironman.
7:00am, the gun went off, and 2430 people rushed into the water. Now, for those of you who have never seen an Ironman race, the first several hundred yards of the swim are tough. There is no, "swim nicely, free from other people." Everyone is swimming in the same space, going at different speeds, trying to get into their stroke, and they are kicking each other (accidently) and bumping into one another. To have to battle to have space and to find a rhythm, while dealing with freezing water that just took your breath out of you, is difficult to say the least.
While the water was cold, it didn't seem as bad as the 2 days prior, when I went into the lake to get acclimated. I don't know if it was adrenaline or something else, but I settled in and the cold wasn't top of my mind. The biggest thing was avoiding getting kicked and bumped into, which is irritating enough that it can throw off your stroke. I finished the first lap of the swim, feeling lucky to have a brief reprieve, and got around the marker and back into the water. This was a critical mental part of the race because towards the end of the first lap, my mind was already asking me why I was doing this. You are going to do ANOTHER lap? Yes, I am going to do another lap in this freezing water, with people banging into me, and draining my strength. Mental victory #1.
I came out of the water in 1:26:37 and ran into transition. I knew that my hands and feet were a little cold, but I didn't realize how much until my feet hit the sand on the beach and burned from the coarse sand. Then, when handed my bike gear bag, my hands wouldn't work the way they were supposed to. They just simply wouldn't do what my mind was telling them to do. I managed to get dried off and my gear on, but it came at a price, as my transition time was over 10 minutes.
Out on the bike and I was feeling pretty good. The first part of the course wasn't very steep and I was cruising along. This was the beginning of what would become a 7 hour and 40 minute ordeal of hills, climbs, broken equipment, and botched nutrition. I am not going to rehash that entire ordeal, but will give some of the highlights as I remember them. The downhills on the course were awesome. At one point, I topped out at just over 41 mph, but regularly saw speeds in the low to mid thirties. The uphills, on the other hand, were brutal. I don't know the grades, but I do know that I was consitently in the lowest possible gear on my bike and I was still having to play games with my mind. I would stop looking at the top of the hill and, instead, focus 6 feet ahead of my and tell myself, "Just a little at a time. Just a little at a time." Before I knew it, I would be rolling over the top of the hill and accelerating. The problem was, those uphills were killing my average speed and the downhills weren't long enough to make up for it. As the race wore on, I just didn't have the legs to keep pushing hard.
Somewhere around mile 39, I was passed by Craig Alexander. Apparently, the leader had passed me 8.5 minutes before and Craig was chasing him. That was another highlight for the race. They were on their second (and last) lap, with about 17 to go. I found out later that Alexander, who finished 2nd coming off the bike, had averaged nearly 25mph. By contrast, my average was under 15mph.
Overall, it was a gorgeous day for a race. But, I realized after about 2 hours on the bike that I was having trouble with my nutrition. For whatever reason, I couldn't swallow the protein bars that I was eating, and had trained with. Without a substantial amount of water to wash them down, they just got stuck in my throat, which was not only uncomfortable, but dangerous. So, I shifted away from the bars and went to gels-only. Problem was, I had not trained with gels only and I knew from past experience that I would get hunger pains without solid food in my stomach for so long. The result was that I (apparently) didn't eat enough gels to keep my calories up, which, in turn, cause greater fatigue in my legs, which caused my times to slow. I should have known better, but I didn't directly attribute my increased fatigue as a sign of need more fuel. To add to it, I was drinking more fluids on the bike than normal, in part to get Gatorade in my to help compensate for the lack of calories from bars and in part because I was overly concerned with staying hydrated. As a result, I had to get off of the bike 4 time to use the port-o-potty, costing me even more time.
Around mile 80 on the bike, I hit another snag. I was running down a hill and changing gears when something sounded funny. I didn't realize, until I tried to downshift to my small ring, that my derailer broke and would allow me to shift to a higher gear, but not let me go down to a lower one. With so many steep hills, I had no choice but to get off of my bike, phsically put my chain on the small ring, and only change gears within that ring, seriously limiting the amount of speed I could get on any downhill or flat sections. I basically only had the lower half of my gears and could only get up to a maximum of about 21mph while pedaling.
To say that spending 7+ hours on a bike is mentally challenging is an understatement. Throughout, I was constantly battling with myself over why I was actually doing this. How much longer is this going to take? Am I there yet? When is the next downhill? Is that ANOTHER person passing me? Just like on the swim, the end of lap #1 on the bike was a time when I had "a chance to get off." I could have ended my suffering right there. Heck, I knew at that point that it was going to take my another 3.5+ hours to finish the bike. Why would I keep going? My time was blown, I was tired, and I knew that after the bike I had a FULL MARATHON yet to run. Mental Victory #? Keep going. You are going to be an Ironman today. You have come this far and there is no giving up.
It was a long bike and I was happy when it was finally over and I got off. My butt was sore, along with other parts, but it wasn't as bad as I felt getting off of the bike in Austin. I ran into transition, grabbed my bag, sat down (ahhhhhh!!!!), and made a quick change. Much better this time around than T1. I was off.
The first mile of the run and I was shaky and something was off. I thought at first that it was just the switch from bike to run, but would finally realize a little while later what the problem was. Coming off of the bike, I was hungry and my stomach panged with hunger. So, at the first station, I walked through...banana, oranges, water, cola. A little better and I started running as I left the station. Around mile 2, the calories must have kicked in because I was feeling a ton better and I was moving at a 9:40-ish pace, which is where I expected I should be. I dialed it back to 10 min/miles, knowing that I needed to be careful in the first half so that I didn't wear myself out. You can always push on the 2nd half of the marathon and negative split.
The more I ate, the better I felt and ran, so at each aid station, I did the same thing: banana, oranges, cola, water, sports drink. The people at the stations were great. They were playing music, cheering us on, and keeping spirits up. Considering some of the hills on the run, we needed it. I was feeling good and happy to post about the same times on the first and second 10K splits. It was around mile 13 that a decision that I made at mile 1 came back to haunt me. At mile 1, you had the option of grabbing your Run Special Needs bag. In my bag, I had placed hip pads that help in the event of hip problems. At mile 1, I was having no issues with my hips, so I opted to bypass getting my bag, thinking that I could always hit it at mile 14, if I need them. Well, I need them at mile 13 as my hips, once again, started to flare up and brought me to a walk. I probably could have forced myself to continue to run, but I knew I had 13 miles left and I wanted be sure to finish. I knew that if I walked the last 13, there was no way I couldn't finish.
I threw the medicated pads on at mile 14 and started to walk. It wasn't until mile 23, more than 2 hours later, that I got some relief and felt like I could run again. It was on-and-off with a slow jog, as now fatigue and stiffness were setting in. And I had a lot of company. Most of the people still on the coarse at that time were walking, just trying to finish. Injuries and fatigue were everywhere.
As we got closer, more and more spectators were cheering us on. Some were more drunk than others, but all were enthuisiastic and helped with our spirit. With about 1.2 miles left, you could really start to feel the energy again. We were almost there. The journey was almost over and I could taste it. With about 5 miles left, I told myself that I was going to run the finish with everything that I had. I didn't know exactly how far out I would be able to start, but as I hit the 25 mile marker, came around a turn that brought me onto main street with a clear shot of the finish, I knew it was time. I started a slow jog and quickly realized that my hip was holding up. I stepped up my pace and actually felt really good. Andrenaline or whatever, my mood and condition were the best they had been in hours and I increased my speed even more. I was now passing other runners at a pretty decent clip. Almost a ridiculous clip considering it was the end of the race.
By the time I entered the chute, I was sprinting. The crowd was cheering, but as soon as they saw my surge, they went NUTS! I felt fantastic. I was sprinting, feeling good, and hearing the crowd. I raised my hands over my head the entire length of the chute. Jubiliation! Still passing people. Hands raised, "Christopher Morgan. You are an Ironman!" Crossed the finish line in 14:47:02 and had such a tremendous sense of accomplishment. 140.6 miles.
After I crossed the line, I was immediately pointed at a woman volunteer who supported my waist and was making sure I didn't collapse. So sweet she was. I got my finisher's medal, hat, shirt, and got covered up. She walked me over to my next handler, who shuttled my off to get some water, cola, and pizza. Elated. Before the race, I would have guessed that I would have just been happy to have it over with, but I would have been wrong. I was happy to have finished and succeeded in a tremendous challenge of mind and body.
Having now finished an Ironman, I have new perspective on the pros of this sport. I knew that they were fast, fit, etc., but I didn't realize just how amazing and ridiculous they are. Doing this race put it into even more perspective for me how gifted they are. The winner of CdA, Craig Alexander, finished with a time of 8:19:48. Julie Dibens, the women's winner, finished in 9:16:40. It took me 5+ hours longer than them to finish. AMAZING.
This is a long one, so hold on...
The day started out the same as my other big races - Austin Longhorn 70.3, NYC Marathon, etc. I didn't sleep well the night before because of anxiety, as expected, and I was up before my alarm which was set for 3:30am. Race wasn't until 7am, but transition opened at 5am and I wanted to be up, fed, and out in time to get a parking spot near the start. The main reason I felt I needed to be close was because I fully expected to have trouble getting around after the race and I didn't want to have to go far to get to my car. I ate, drank a 32oz Gatorade, and a Red Bull, ran through all of my checklists in my head, and left for the start, about 2 miles from my hotel.
Because I was so early, I had some time to burn and sat in my car to stay warm, since it was only 42 degrees outside at 4:30am. While there, I traded some texts with Tracy, Chris Draper, and other friends who were up at 7am ET. People slowly starting filling the lot I was parked in and, around 5:30am, I got out and went to get marked with my #1630 and to set up my nutrition on my bike. I knew it was going to be the start of a very long day.
I had set a number of goal times for each leg of the race, but I also knew that the last 4 weeks saw little of the training that I needed to meet those times. I hadn't put in the time and I was sure that I would pay for it. Turns out, I was right. My primarly goal was to finish and to race my race, listening to what my body was telling me. You can't try to cheat Ironman by not putting in the training hours, because it will make you pay.
Walking up to transition, I walked by the pros rack and saw my buddy, Craig Alexander, and others setting up their bikes. They were set to go off at 6:25am in order to give them enough of a headstart that all of the rest of us wouldn't get in their way. Craig is shorter than I am, but as solid as they come. When I took a picture with him on the Friday before, we put are arms around one other for the photo and he was solid. You have to be to do what he and these pros do on a regular basis.
I walked into transition and did a quick setup and then changed into my wetsuit and checked in my clothes bag until after the race. The feel of this race was different than any I had been to before. Austin had sort of a casual feel to it, but CdA had some sort of intense, yet welcoming atmosphere. I don't know how exactly to describe it, but you felt like you were about to bond with 2499 other people in doing something really special.
At 6:30, transition closed and everyone started making their way to the beach. It was still cold, but I was warm (except my feet and hands) because of my wetsuit. The water temp was still a whopping 58 degrees, which still had my worried. Even with a wetsuit, that is cold enough to take your breath away. We watched as the pros finished the first of 2 laps just before we were set to start. The beach was crowded with what I found out was 2430 other triathletes, some 900+ were doing their first Ironman.
7:00am, the gun went off, and 2430 people rushed into the water. Now, for those of you who have never seen an Ironman race, the first several hundred yards of the swim are tough. There is no, "swim nicely, free from other people." Everyone is swimming in the same space, going at different speeds, trying to get into their stroke, and they are kicking each other (accidently) and bumping into one another. To have to battle to have space and to find a rhythm, while dealing with freezing water that just took your breath out of you, is difficult to say the least.
While the water was cold, it didn't seem as bad as the 2 days prior, when I went into the lake to get acclimated. I don't know if it was adrenaline or something else, but I settled in and the cold wasn't top of my mind. The biggest thing was avoiding getting kicked and bumped into, which is irritating enough that it can throw off your stroke. I finished the first lap of the swim, feeling lucky to have a brief reprieve, and got around the marker and back into the water. This was a critical mental part of the race because towards the end of the first lap, my mind was already asking me why I was doing this. You are going to do ANOTHER lap? Yes, I am going to do another lap in this freezing water, with people banging into me, and draining my strength. Mental victory #1.
I came out of the water in 1:26:37 and ran into transition. I knew that my hands and feet were a little cold, but I didn't realize how much until my feet hit the sand on the beach and burned from the coarse sand. Then, when handed my bike gear bag, my hands wouldn't work the way they were supposed to. They just simply wouldn't do what my mind was telling them to do. I managed to get dried off and my gear on, but it came at a price, as my transition time was over 10 minutes.
Out on the bike and I was feeling pretty good. The first part of the course wasn't very steep and I was cruising along. This was the beginning of what would become a 7 hour and 40 minute ordeal of hills, climbs, broken equipment, and botched nutrition. I am not going to rehash that entire ordeal, but will give some of the highlights as I remember them. The downhills on the course were awesome. At one point, I topped out at just over 41 mph, but regularly saw speeds in the low to mid thirties. The uphills, on the other hand, were brutal. I don't know the grades, but I do know that I was consitently in the lowest possible gear on my bike and I was still having to play games with my mind. I would stop looking at the top of the hill and, instead, focus 6 feet ahead of my and tell myself, "Just a little at a time. Just a little at a time." Before I knew it, I would be rolling over the top of the hill and accelerating. The problem was, those uphills were killing my average speed and the downhills weren't long enough to make up for it. As the race wore on, I just didn't have the legs to keep pushing hard.
Somewhere around mile 39, I was passed by Craig Alexander. Apparently, the leader had passed me 8.5 minutes before and Craig was chasing him. That was another highlight for the race. They were on their second (and last) lap, with about 17 to go. I found out later that Alexander, who finished 2nd coming off the bike, had averaged nearly 25mph. By contrast, my average was under 15mph.
Overall, it was a gorgeous day for a race. But, I realized after about 2 hours on the bike that I was having trouble with my nutrition. For whatever reason, I couldn't swallow the protein bars that I was eating, and had trained with. Without a substantial amount of water to wash them down, they just got stuck in my throat, which was not only uncomfortable, but dangerous. So, I shifted away from the bars and went to gels-only. Problem was, I had not trained with gels only and I knew from past experience that I would get hunger pains without solid food in my stomach for so long. The result was that I (apparently) didn't eat enough gels to keep my calories up, which, in turn, cause greater fatigue in my legs, which caused my times to slow. I should have known better, but I didn't directly attribute my increased fatigue as a sign of need more fuel. To add to it, I was drinking more fluids on the bike than normal, in part to get Gatorade in my to help compensate for the lack of calories from bars and in part because I was overly concerned with staying hydrated. As a result, I had to get off of the bike 4 time to use the port-o-potty, costing me even more time.
Around mile 80 on the bike, I hit another snag. I was running down a hill and changing gears when something sounded funny. I didn't realize, until I tried to downshift to my small ring, that my derailer broke and would allow me to shift to a higher gear, but not let me go down to a lower one. With so many steep hills, I had no choice but to get off of my bike, phsically put my chain on the small ring, and only change gears within that ring, seriously limiting the amount of speed I could get on any downhill or flat sections. I basically only had the lower half of my gears and could only get up to a maximum of about 21mph while pedaling.
To say that spending 7+ hours on a bike is mentally challenging is an understatement. Throughout, I was constantly battling with myself over why I was actually doing this. How much longer is this going to take? Am I there yet? When is the next downhill? Is that ANOTHER person passing me? Just like on the swim, the end of lap #1 on the bike was a time when I had "a chance to get off." I could have ended my suffering right there. Heck, I knew at that point that it was going to take my another 3.5+ hours to finish the bike. Why would I keep going? My time was blown, I was tired, and I knew that after the bike I had a FULL MARATHON yet to run. Mental Victory #? Keep going. You are going to be an Ironman today. You have come this far and there is no giving up.
It was a long bike and I was happy when it was finally over and I got off. My butt was sore, along with other parts, but it wasn't as bad as I felt getting off of the bike in Austin. I ran into transition, grabbed my bag, sat down (ahhhhhh!!!!), and made a quick change. Much better this time around than T1. I was off.
The first mile of the run and I was shaky and something was off. I thought at first that it was just the switch from bike to run, but would finally realize a little while later what the problem was. Coming off of the bike, I was hungry and my stomach panged with hunger. So, at the first station, I walked through...banana, oranges, water, cola. A little better and I started running as I left the station. Around mile 2, the calories must have kicked in because I was feeling a ton better and I was moving at a 9:40-ish pace, which is where I expected I should be. I dialed it back to 10 min/miles, knowing that I needed to be careful in the first half so that I didn't wear myself out. You can always push on the 2nd half of the marathon and negative split.
The more I ate, the better I felt and ran, so at each aid station, I did the same thing: banana, oranges, cola, water, sports drink. The people at the stations were great. They were playing music, cheering us on, and keeping spirits up. Considering some of the hills on the run, we needed it. I was feeling good and happy to post about the same times on the first and second 10K splits. It was around mile 13 that a decision that I made at mile 1 came back to haunt me. At mile 1, you had the option of grabbing your Run Special Needs bag. In my bag, I had placed hip pads that help in the event of hip problems. At mile 1, I was having no issues with my hips, so I opted to bypass getting my bag, thinking that I could always hit it at mile 14, if I need them. Well, I need them at mile 13 as my hips, once again, started to flare up and brought me to a walk. I probably could have forced myself to continue to run, but I knew I had 13 miles left and I wanted be sure to finish. I knew that if I walked the last 13, there was no way I couldn't finish.
I threw the medicated pads on at mile 14 and started to walk. It wasn't until mile 23, more than 2 hours later, that I got some relief and felt like I could run again. It was on-and-off with a slow jog, as now fatigue and stiffness were setting in. And I had a lot of company. Most of the people still on the coarse at that time were walking, just trying to finish. Injuries and fatigue were everywhere.
As we got closer, more and more spectators were cheering us on. Some were more drunk than others, but all were enthuisiastic and helped with our spirit. With about 1.2 miles left, you could really start to feel the energy again. We were almost there. The journey was almost over and I could taste it. With about 5 miles left, I told myself that I was going to run the finish with everything that I had. I didn't know exactly how far out I would be able to start, but as I hit the 25 mile marker, came around a turn that brought me onto main street with a clear shot of the finish, I knew it was time. I started a slow jog and quickly realized that my hip was holding up. I stepped up my pace and actually felt really good. Andrenaline or whatever, my mood and condition were the best they had been in hours and I increased my speed even more. I was now passing other runners at a pretty decent clip. Almost a ridiculous clip considering it was the end of the race.
By the time I entered the chute, I was sprinting. The crowd was cheering, but as soon as they saw my surge, they went NUTS! I felt fantastic. I was sprinting, feeling good, and hearing the crowd. I raised my hands over my head the entire length of the chute. Jubiliation! Still passing people. Hands raised, "Christopher Morgan. You are an Ironman!" Crossed the finish line in 14:47:02 and had such a tremendous sense of accomplishment. 140.6 miles.
After I crossed the line, I was immediately pointed at a woman volunteer who supported my waist and was making sure I didn't collapse. So sweet she was. I got my finisher's medal, hat, shirt, and got covered up. She walked me over to my next handler, who shuttled my off to get some water, cola, and pizza. Elated. Before the race, I would have guessed that I would have just been happy to have it over with, but I would have been wrong. I was happy to have finished and succeeded in a tremendous challenge of mind and body.
Having now finished an Ironman, I have new perspective on the pros of this sport. I knew that they were fast, fit, etc., but I didn't realize just how amazing and ridiculous they are. Doing this race put it into even more perspective for me how gifted they are. The winner of CdA, Craig Alexander, finished with a time of 8:19:48. Julie Dibens, the women's winner, finished in 9:16:40. It took me 5+ hours longer than them to finish. AMAZING.
Friday, June 24, 2011
CdA Prep - My First Full IM
Wow, I haven't been back to this blog since I posted about running the NYC Marathon. I have come a long way since last November when the second half of my marathon ended in disappointment.
Today, I am in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, preparing for IMCdA this Sunday. This place is absolutely gorgeous. What a great scenic place to spend some time. If it weren't for the 58 degree water temp and the frigid and constant breeze, it would be perfect for a race!
I got to registration early today, after a late night of putting together my bike and unpacking my gear. As I was walking out of the "village" that has been set up just for the race, the pro press briefing was taking place, including Julie Dibens (3rd place in Kona 2010) and Craig Alexander (2-time world champion). After the press had their way, I got an opportunity to meet and take a picture with Craig. Super nice guy and a highlight of my trip...one that I didn't expect when coming out here.
Race day is on Sunday, so today and tomorrow are more getting acclimated, prepped, and through some low intensity, low duration swims, bikes, and runs. My swim today, in a wetsuit and neoprine cap, was frigid. So cold that I could feel my face tighten up and started getting a headache. Race should be interesting!
Soon, I will be off to a pre-race dinner and meeting for the athletes, then hopefully to get some much needed rest. Not sure how much I will post here before the race, but certainly will give a blow-by-blow post-race. I hope it is a good one. Wish me luck!
Today, I am in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, preparing for IMCdA this Sunday. This place is absolutely gorgeous. What a great scenic place to spend some time. If it weren't for the 58 degree water temp and the frigid and constant breeze, it would be perfect for a race!
I got to registration early today, after a late night of putting together my bike and unpacking my gear. As I was walking out of the "village" that has been set up just for the race, the pro press briefing was taking place, including Julie Dibens (3rd place in Kona 2010) and Craig Alexander (2-time world champion). After the press had their way, I got an opportunity to meet and take a picture with Craig. Super nice guy and a highlight of my trip...one that I didn't expect when coming out here.
Race day is on Sunday, so today and tomorrow are more getting acclimated, prepped, and through some low intensity, low duration swims, bikes, and runs. My swim today, in a wetsuit and neoprine cap, was frigid. So cold that I could feel my face tighten up and started getting a headache. Race should be interesting!
Soon, I will be off to a pre-race dinner and meeting for the athletes, then hopefully to get some much needed rest. Not sure how much I will post here before the race, but certainly will give a blow-by-blow post-race. I hope it is a good one. Wish me luck!
Monday, November 8, 2010
NYC Marathon
It is the day after the NYC Marthon and I wanted to get my thoughts down before I forget any of the details from the race. This post won't be as long (I don't think) as my Austin 70.3 post, but I will put down as many of the details as I can...
I had planned for some time to stay in a hotel on Staten Island the night before the race, to make sure I didn't have any problems getting there, etc. Because I didn't want to have to worry about getting BACK to Staten Island, I didn't want to bring a car and Tracy was going to drop me off. On race day, she and the big kids were then going to travel into the city from home and catch me running at a few points on the course. Unfortunately, Tracy was sick all weekend and all of the plans went out the window! So, I scrambled to make some calls and confirmed that some local friends had an extra seat in their car the morning of the race, as the three of them were running, as well.
5am arrived and thank goodness for daylight savings weekend! I got an extra hour of sleep and it felt great. I had to meet Aaron, Denise, and Bobby at 5:30am to drive to Staten Island. It was cold and windy when I got out of my car and into theirs, but I figured it would warm up, with the weather forecast calling for a low of 32 and a high in the upper 40's. The drive was relaxed and we chatted about pace strategy and other random topics. Traffic was light until we got a few miles out from the Verrazono bridge. The police had traffic stopped and had just begun to separate the buses from the passenger cars. It was 7:00am and the bridge was about to be closed until 3pm. Forced onto a side street while the buses cruised the highway alone, we made our way towards the start in moderate traffic. Thank goodness we were there well in advance. I can't even imagine what the traffic would have been like if we were later...
Security was checking for race numbers at multiple points and people with bags, other than the clear ones we were given, had them confiscated. We filtered into what seemed like a few small villages within the park next to the bridge and start line. It was a little chilly, but the sun helped and there was free food and drink: coffee, gatorade, water, bagels, etc. Bobby was in a different starting group than the rest of us, so we separated from him and went to our designated area - Green bibs, corral #20. We had plenty of time, so we ate, hung out, and stretched.
One of the things that the race did for us was provide us with clear bags for us to put clothes in for the end of the race. UPS trucks were lined up by bib number and taking bags, which they would transport to the finish line. We dropped our bags and timed a bathroom break to be as close as possible to the time we were to be in our corral. Just as we got in line, at 8:52am, we heard an announcement that Wave 1 (our wave) corrals were closing at 8:55am!!! WHAT?! "If you miss your wave, you can join wave 2." Oh man, wave 2 starts 30 minutes after wave 1. I don't want to miss our wave. Run! The three of us took off for our corral, not a short distance from the green "village" where we were located.
We got into the #20 corral, literally, as the gate closed behind us. WHEW!! Port-o-potties in the corral...AWESOME! We used them and waited...thousands of people in a gated "pen" that fed towards our starting line, on the lower level of the Varazzano Bridge. Tracy would be freaking out...it was CROWDED! 30 minutes later, we started moving closer to the starting line.
As we moved closer to our start time, people started to strip down to their running clothes. Another nice thing that the race does is donate clothing that is left and discarded prior to the race. So, most runners wear donatable clothing over their running gear and leave it to be donated. Other runners get creative with wearing trash bags, heavy paper clothing, cardboard, and the like. I brought some old sweats to donate and wore a long sleeve racing shirt with my "That's What She Said" shirt over top of it.
Eventually, we hear the cannon go off and people started moving. The race was on! Things slowly opened up and we picked up speed on our walk to the start. Looking around, I had lost Aaron and Denise. Oh well, you are never going to find them in all of these people, so just run your race! I crossed the start at a slow jog at 5:11 on the start clock and I pressed START on my watch. I was off!
My goal for the NYC Marathon was originally 3:45. Ambitious for my first marathon, no doubt, but I had done the Jersey City half in 1:38, so why not? Well, I adjusted that goal back coming out of the Austin 70.3. One week after Austin, I tried running 13 miles with Aaron and Denise, feeling good and healthy, when I had the same issues with hips and IT band as in Austin, right about mile 5. "I must still be recovering," I thought. So, I didn't run in the 2 weeks since and prior to the NYC marathon, hoping that I would heal enough that I wouldn't have any issues. I adjusted my goal to 4:00. Assuming I didn't have any injuries, that time should be well within reason...
The first part of the race is across the bridge. And it was FREEZING. Cross-winds on the bridge were BRUTAL and my hands (I didn't think about needing gloves - mistake!) were burning from the cold. It wasn't until just past the bottom of the bridge that I had enough blood pumping that they warmed up. I was feeling good. My legs felt strong, I didn't have any pain, and the weather was nice. It was going to be a good day!
During the first part of the race, crowds were sparse. We entered Brooklyn and there we a few on overpasses, etc. Like the guy who hollered down at us, "Anybody want a cigarette?!"
As we filtered through the streets, they got more crowded. Not just with the runners, but with people lining the streets. Brooklyn was out in force for us! Just looking ahead at the sea of runners in the street was unbelievable. For as far as you could see, there was a continuous crowd of runners moving up the street. I tried to compare it to things that I have seen in the past and the closest that I could come up with was Mardi Gras in New Orleans. It was literally wall-to-wall people, all running through the streets. Very cool...
I was really feeling optimistic as I ran through mile 5. Even the occasional pain or feeling of fatigue went away quickly and I was averaging right around 8 minute miles, which was faster than I thought I would be running but certainly within what I am capable of. Then, around mile 6, I felt a twinge in my left IT band. I tried to ignore it, and it must have worked because by mile 8 it was gone and I was still cruising. Splits for the first 8 miles were: 9:07, 7:33, 7:55, 8:03, 7:56, 8:08, 8:21, and 8:48. Definitely getting slower, but I had been planning on 9's, so I was fine with what I was doing.
Somewhere around mile 14, the dull pain in my hips that I had been trying to ignore was at the front of my mind and was no longer dull pain. From mile 11 through mile 14, my pace slipped into the 10-min/mile range. My IT band was fine, which is different than in the past. Before, it was my IT band first, followed by hip pain. Today, we started with the hips... Somewhere towards the end of mile 14, I went to a walk. This was right around one of the bridges that we ran.
The next few miles were a little running (when I felt I could) with a lot of walking. Averages fell into the 12-13 minute zone and I was hurting. The longer I went, the harder it was to even get up to a slow jog. Although, starting back somewhere in Brooklyn and continuing through Manhattan, the crowd helped. I heard people shouting, "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!!!" Telling me they loved my shirt and even telling me, "She said to RUN!!!" It was great and motivating, and whenever I was capable, I managed a slow jog. Regardless of my ability to pick up the pace, I raised my hands to them each time they called out, "That's what she said!" or said, "Go Lehigh!" in response to the Lehigh U hat that I was wearing, as well.
Around mile 17, I started looking for the StreetWise Partners crew, who were stationed at about mile 17.5. I caught a glimpse of Melissa along the barricade and ran over to her and the crowd over there, giving high-5's. That gave me a good adrenaline rush and I was able to manage a jog for another couple hundred yards. In this zone, in particular, the crowds were awesome. Packed all along the route, cheering, singing, etc. There were even people, of their own accord, handing out oranges, bananas, pretzels, salt tablets, and even tissues, to the runners. The experience with the crowd along was very cool.
The last 5 miles of the race are probably the hardest miles that I have ever run/walked in my life to-date. Mentally, I had been dealing with pain for hours and, with 5 miles left to go at a slow pace, I knew that I still had as much as 1.5 hours left to go. I was determined to tough it out. I had done it in Austin and I would do it again. What I hadn't realized or counted on was that Austin was only 13.1 miles on the run. I didn't understand, at that point, what a big difference there is between 13 and 26 miles. I had run 13+ miles and was in pain for 13 miles, but to try and walk 13 miles with that type of hip and knee pain was incredibly hard, physically and mentally.
There were more and more people walking the course by now. Even back as far as mile 20/21, when I heard a spectator say, "This is the hardest part of the course." He may have just meant the big, long hill that we had to scale, but I knew that it was also mentally the hardest part. That 20 mile mark, if you even make it to 20, can break you mentally. You have to do into it strong and determined, and know that you are going to be hurting.
I entered Central Park with about 2.5 miles left. Mentally, the only thing that was keeping me going was the fact that I was so close to the finish that I had no choice but to go on. Physically, I could barely even walk anymore and the only thing that kept my legs going was my brain (the one that was only working because I HAD to finish). It was excrutiating and I stopped many times in the Park to squat and stretch, just trying to get blood flowing into my thighs and relieve some stress on my hips. Those squats were GLORIOUS! Starting up again was not...
The final stretch was packed with people cheering us on. I couldn't work myself up to a run. My "jog" was more of a walk with me dragging my feet. And it HURT! Walking was hard, but at least tolerable. As I moved closer to the finish, there were markers telling everyone how far was left to go. 800 meters, 400 meters, 200 meters, 100 meters...ok, no matter what, you have to find some run in you for the final 100 meters, Chris. You can't WALK through the finish! So, I sucked up everything that I was feeling and gave it my best effort, which, honestly, wasn't so great! But, I made it through the line and finished. I was so happy to have finished! At that point, I wasn't happy because I had completed the NYC Marathon. I was happy to be finished so that I didn't have to do it anymore!!! Every part of my lower body hurt.
Immediately at the finish, a big man, with a big smile on his face, gave me a high-five and said, "Congrats! You did it, man!" THAT was the best I had felt in several hours. That guy raised my spirits and it sunk in a little. I had just completed the NYC Marathon. Not in the time or way that I wanted, but I finished it. My first marathon.
I had planned for some time to stay in a hotel on Staten Island the night before the race, to make sure I didn't have any problems getting there, etc. Because I didn't want to have to worry about getting BACK to Staten Island, I didn't want to bring a car and Tracy was going to drop me off. On race day, she and the big kids were then going to travel into the city from home and catch me running at a few points on the course. Unfortunately, Tracy was sick all weekend and all of the plans went out the window! So, I scrambled to make some calls and confirmed that some local friends had an extra seat in their car the morning of the race, as the three of them were running, as well.
5am arrived and thank goodness for daylight savings weekend! I got an extra hour of sleep and it felt great. I had to meet Aaron, Denise, and Bobby at 5:30am to drive to Staten Island. It was cold and windy when I got out of my car and into theirs, but I figured it would warm up, with the weather forecast calling for a low of 32 and a high in the upper 40's. The drive was relaxed and we chatted about pace strategy and other random topics. Traffic was light until we got a few miles out from the Verrazono bridge. The police had traffic stopped and had just begun to separate the buses from the passenger cars. It was 7:00am and the bridge was about to be closed until 3pm. Forced onto a side street while the buses cruised the highway alone, we made our way towards the start in moderate traffic. Thank goodness we were there well in advance. I can't even imagine what the traffic would have been like if we were later...
Security was checking for race numbers at multiple points and people with bags, other than the clear ones we were given, had them confiscated. We filtered into what seemed like a few small villages within the park next to the bridge and start line. It was a little chilly, but the sun helped and there was free food and drink: coffee, gatorade, water, bagels, etc. Bobby was in a different starting group than the rest of us, so we separated from him and went to our designated area - Green bibs, corral #20. We had plenty of time, so we ate, hung out, and stretched.
One of the things that the race did for us was provide us with clear bags for us to put clothes in for the end of the race. UPS trucks were lined up by bib number and taking bags, which they would transport to the finish line. We dropped our bags and timed a bathroom break to be as close as possible to the time we were to be in our corral. Just as we got in line, at 8:52am, we heard an announcement that Wave 1 (our wave) corrals were closing at 8:55am!!! WHAT?! "If you miss your wave, you can join wave 2." Oh man, wave 2 starts 30 minutes after wave 1. I don't want to miss our wave. Run! The three of us took off for our corral, not a short distance from the green "village" where we were located.
We got into the #20 corral, literally, as the gate closed behind us. WHEW!! Port-o-potties in the corral...AWESOME! We used them and waited...thousands of people in a gated "pen" that fed towards our starting line, on the lower level of the Varazzano Bridge. Tracy would be freaking out...it was CROWDED! 30 minutes later, we started moving closer to the starting line.
As we moved closer to our start time, people started to strip down to their running clothes. Another nice thing that the race does is donate clothing that is left and discarded prior to the race. So, most runners wear donatable clothing over their running gear and leave it to be donated. Other runners get creative with wearing trash bags, heavy paper clothing, cardboard, and the like. I brought some old sweats to donate and wore a long sleeve racing shirt with my "That's What She Said" shirt over top of it.
Eventually, we hear the cannon go off and people started moving. The race was on! Things slowly opened up and we picked up speed on our walk to the start. Looking around, I had lost Aaron and Denise. Oh well, you are never going to find them in all of these people, so just run your race! I crossed the start at a slow jog at 5:11 on the start clock and I pressed START on my watch. I was off!
My goal for the NYC Marathon was originally 3:45. Ambitious for my first marathon, no doubt, but I had done the Jersey City half in 1:38, so why not? Well, I adjusted that goal back coming out of the Austin 70.3. One week after Austin, I tried running 13 miles with Aaron and Denise, feeling good and healthy, when I had the same issues with hips and IT band as in Austin, right about mile 5. "I must still be recovering," I thought. So, I didn't run in the 2 weeks since and prior to the NYC marathon, hoping that I would heal enough that I wouldn't have any issues. I adjusted my goal to 4:00. Assuming I didn't have any injuries, that time should be well within reason...
The first part of the race is across the bridge. And it was FREEZING. Cross-winds on the bridge were BRUTAL and my hands (I didn't think about needing gloves - mistake!) were burning from the cold. It wasn't until just past the bottom of the bridge that I had enough blood pumping that they warmed up. I was feeling good. My legs felt strong, I didn't have any pain, and the weather was nice. It was going to be a good day!
During the first part of the race, crowds were sparse. We entered Brooklyn and there we a few on overpasses, etc. Like the guy who hollered down at us, "Anybody want a cigarette?!"
As we filtered through the streets, they got more crowded. Not just with the runners, but with people lining the streets. Brooklyn was out in force for us! Just looking ahead at the sea of runners in the street was unbelievable. For as far as you could see, there was a continuous crowd of runners moving up the street. I tried to compare it to things that I have seen in the past and the closest that I could come up with was Mardi Gras in New Orleans. It was literally wall-to-wall people, all running through the streets. Very cool...
I was really feeling optimistic as I ran through mile 5. Even the occasional pain or feeling of fatigue went away quickly and I was averaging right around 8 minute miles, which was faster than I thought I would be running but certainly within what I am capable of. Then, around mile 6, I felt a twinge in my left IT band. I tried to ignore it, and it must have worked because by mile 8 it was gone and I was still cruising. Splits for the first 8 miles were: 9:07, 7:33, 7:55, 8:03, 7:56, 8:08, 8:21, and 8:48. Definitely getting slower, but I had been planning on 9's, so I was fine with what I was doing.
Somewhere around mile 14, the dull pain in my hips that I had been trying to ignore was at the front of my mind and was no longer dull pain. From mile 11 through mile 14, my pace slipped into the 10-min/mile range. My IT band was fine, which is different than in the past. Before, it was my IT band first, followed by hip pain. Today, we started with the hips... Somewhere towards the end of mile 14, I went to a walk. This was right around one of the bridges that we ran.
The next few miles were a little running (when I felt I could) with a lot of walking. Averages fell into the 12-13 minute zone and I was hurting. The longer I went, the harder it was to even get up to a slow jog. Although, starting back somewhere in Brooklyn and continuing through Manhattan, the crowd helped. I heard people shouting, "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!!!" Telling me they loved my shirt and even telling me, "She said to RUN!!!" It was great and motivating, and whenever I was capable, I managed a slow jog. Regardless of my ability to pick up the pace, I raised my hands to them each time they called out, "That's what she said!" or said, "Go Lehigh!" in response to the Lehigh U hat that I was wearing, as well.
Around mile 17, I started looking for the StreetWise Partners crew, who were stationed at about mile 17.5. I caught a glimpse of Melissa along the barricade and ran over to her and the crowd over there, giving high-5's. That gave me a good adrenaline rush and I was able to manage a jog for another couple hundred yards. In this zone, in particular, the crowds were awesome. Packed all along the route, cheering, singing, etc. There were even people, of their own accord, handing out oranges, bananas, pretzels, salt tablets, and even tissues, to the runners. The experience with the crowd along was very cool.
The last 5 miles of the race are probably the hardest miles that I have ever run/walked in my life to-date. Mentally, I had been dealing with pain for hours and, with 5 miles left to go at a slow pace, I knew that I still had as much as 1.5 hours left to go. I was determined to tough it out. I had done it in Austin and I would do it again. What I hadn't realized or counted on was that Austin was only 13.1 miles on the run. I didn't understand, at that point, what a big difference there is between 13 and 26 miles. I had run 13+ miles and was in pain for 13 miles, but to try and walk 13 miles with that type of hip and knee pain was incredibly hard, physically and mentally.
There were more and more people walking the course by now. Even back as far as mile 20/21, when I heard a spectator say, "This is the hardest part of the course." He may have just meant the big, long hill that we had to scale, but I knew that it was also mentally the hardest part. That 20 mile mark, if you even make it to 20, can break you mentally. You have to do into it strong and determined, and know that you are going to be hurting.
I entered Central Park with about 2.5 miles left. Mentally, the only thing that was keeping me going was the fact that I was so close to the finish that I had no choice but to go on. Physically, I could barely even walk anymore and the only thing that kept my legs going was my brain (the one that was only working because I HAD to finish). It was excrutiating and I stopped many times in the Park to squat and stretch, just trying to get blood flowing into my thighs and relieve some stress on my hips. Those squats were GLORIOUS! Starting up again was not...
The final stretch was packed with people cheering us on. I couldn't work myself up to a run. My "jog" was more of a walk with me dragging my feet. And it HURT! Walking was hard, but at least tolerable. As I moved closer to the finish, there were markers telling everyone how far was left to go. 800 meters, 400 meters, 200 meters, 100 meters...ok, no matter what, you have to find some run in you for the final 100 meters, Chris. You can't WALK through the finish! So, I sucked up everything that I was feeling and gave it my best effort, which, honestly, wasn't so great! But, I made it through the line and finished. I was so happy to have finished! At that point, I wasn't happy because I had completed the NYC Marathon. I was happy to be finished so that I didn't have to do it anymore!!! Every part of my lower body hurt.
Immediately at the finish, a big man, with a big smile on his face, gave me a high-five and said, "Congrats! You did it, man!" THAT was the best I had felt in several hours. That guy raised my spirits and it sunk in a little. I had just completed the NYC Marathon. Not in the time or way that I wanted, but I finished it. My first marathon.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Race Recap & Details - Longhorn 70.3 Austin
First, I would like to thank everyone for all of their support over the past months. All of the comments that I have received throughout my journey have made it easier to get up at 5am on a Saturday, or whenever, and get out on the road to train. The number of people that were tracking me in real-time or near-real-time DURING the race was nothing short of AMAZING. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I deliberately put off posting details about the race until today, primarily because I wanted and needed some time to reflect upon what happened yesterday. Below, I will give as much detail as I can about the day, although I am still having mixed emotions about it. This is likely to be a REALLY long blog post.
On Saturday, I was blessed to not only have Tracy with me in Austin, but to have my good friend, John Bliss, drive 3 hours from his house in Houston to spend some time with us and watch the beginning of the race. John and I have known each other a long time, but haven't seen each other in years, so to have him take such extraordinary effort meant a lot. Add to John coming to the race that another friend from Lehigh, Nick Mathers, happened to be racing in Austin and was able to join us, and I had my own little crew of supporters. Not bad for being 1500 miles from home.
Alarm went off at 4:30am Sunday morning, but I was already awake. I had gone to bed at 9pm and actually slept until about 12:30am, when my dreams about the race turned woke me and my mind started going...What was my strategy? What goals had I set? Did I have all of my gear? When should I each my GU gels on the run? If I average 20 MPH, how much faster will that make me over a 19 MPH average? ...the questions just kept coming, and I kept repeating the answers that I already knew...
By 4:35am, I was already dressed and into my routine - make 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, drink a Red Bull to get some caffeine in me, eat one of the PB&J's, double-check my gear, pack up the 2nd PB&J for the road, and get ready to go. We were in the car by 5:05am, just 5 minutes behind schedule, but with a full 2.5 hours before the start of the race, still fine to have plenty of time to get there and settled in. The realty of the day started to settle in.
On the car ride over, I tried to get my sandwich down, but even though I was hungry, I felt like I was forcing it. Looking back, I should have recognized this as a potential problem, but I brushed it off. When we arrived at the parking location, I still had half to go and took it with me, along with all of my other gear, to the transfer buses that were to take us to the race start at Walter E. Long Lake. I figured that I might want it later.
We were one of the first groups to arrive at the bike transition (T1) shortly after 5:30am, when T1 opened for athletes to setup their gear. I got to my bike, which I had left in T1 overnight as required by the event, and set up my remaining gear - bike shoes, towel, baby powder for wet feet, socks, helmet, sunglasses, race belt with bib number, etc. (the logistics for a triathlon can be overwhelming) I wasn't there more than 2 minutes when a friendly face arrived at my bike location. Justin, a member of the Titans (the group that invited me to join the other 18 Titans racing that day) who wasn't even racing that day, had a bike pump in hand and was making sure that I had everything I needed. Tires OK? What else do you need? An amazing amount of support from a group of people that I met for the first time 2 days before. Everything was in order, Justin went on to help the next Titan, and I left T1 to rejoin Tracy and meet up with John, who was on his way over to the race start, as well, but slightly behind us.
The next 1 hr + was mostly stretching, prepping, being anxious, second-guessing myself, and the like. But, just before 7:30am, with the sun coming up over the lake, we saw 2 sky divers floating down from the sky, one with a huge American flag hanging from his feet. Then, on cue, the Star Spangled Banner starts, as the sky divers and American flag decend from the sky.
I split from Tracy and John just after the song ended and before the pros went off on their wave. In all, there were nearly 2200 people in the race, spread out over about 17 waves, each 5 minutes apart. I was in wave #9, going off at 8:05am with the age 35-39 group, letters L-Z. The pros came out of the water just before we went "on deck" for our wave. MAN, THOSE GUYS WERE FLYING! First man out of the water in 23 minutes and change...WOW!
There I am standing in my wetsuit, knee deep in the lake, surrounded by probably 100 other guys. "White caps, you have TWO minutes to start!" ..."1 minute to start." ..."30 seconds..." HORN! We were finally off! I dove into the water (at 73 degrees, in the 60 degree air temperature, it felt nice!) and started to swim. I got kicked by those in front of me. I kicked those behind me. I got banged into. I banged into others. Until it started to open up and people separated themselves by ability or the reluctance to get pummelled by other swimmers.
Normally, I go out way too fast on the swim and have a hard time because I feel like I can't breath. My adrenaline starts going and I just kill it. But, I wasn't going to make that mistake this time. I was going to focus on my stroke and just take it at a comfortable pace. Heck, I had 1.2 miles to swim...more than I had ever done at a shot, without rest. And I did just that. I was comfortable the whole way, except for a few instances where I questioned my sanity as the swim seemed like it just was NEVER going to end...
Out of the water at 37:01. YES! Right about where I thought I would be. The planning was paying off! I soared up the exit from the water. Very little vertigo! AWESOME! Still some there, but much more managable than in past races. This is great! Let's go, get your stuff together and get on that bike! I hauled it to my bike location, pulled my stuff out of my bag and went into the T1 routine. Wetsuit off. Spray dirty feet with water bottle. Baby powder feet. Socks on. Bike shoes on. Helmet. Sunglasses. Gatorade concentrate. That it? Yes, GET GOING!
Out of transition in 4:41. Still within what I thought I could do! On the bike and cruising! Initial hills, no problem as I had an initial average speed of over 20MPH. Maybe this upgraded rental bike will make the difference! I look down at the 4 GU gels that I had taped to my bike bar, and there are only 2! Are you KIDDING ME? Someone thieved 2 of my gels...
The first 20+ miles of the bike, my bike computer told me that my average speed was hovering around 20 MPH. I had kept it up, despite the rolling hills on the course. I had actually gotten up to a maximum speed of over 36 MPH. I wasn't killing it, but I felt good and I was above where I have been in the past and at where I wanted to be. The bumpy roads we were on didn't help, but I was cruising. And never alone on the bike. There were always handfuls of people around, I am sure due to the volume of competitors on the course. I passed many and got passed.
At some point around the 2 hour mark, I felt some discomfort in my mid-section but nothing that was stopping me. Then, I started to have pain in my back, seemingly from the vibrations of my bike coming off of some of the roads we were riding on. Still going... 2.5 hours in (45 or so miles into the race) and my butt was becoming intolerably bruised. I couldn't get comfortable and it was starting to really impact my pace. And now I felt hungry, or something... My average continued to fall and at point went sub-19MPH. "WHY am I doing this again?" I just couldn't wait to get off of that bike! "Just get me to the run and off of this seat!"
Off the bike in 2:58:01. REALLY?! AWESOME! All the pain in my back side was worth it! I was in under the 3 hour mark, which really was my primary mark. Into transition to the run (T2). Rack the bike. Helmet off. Bike shoes off. Running shoes on. Hat on. GO! GO! GO! The only thing I slowed for was to have the volunteers slap sun tan lotion on my shoulders and neck so I wouldn't fry.
Out of T2 in 4:07. A little slow. But, just as I left T2, I hear someone say, "Chris, is that you?" It was Nick Mathers. We were exiting at the same time and about to start the run. This is great! Maybe we can pace our run together! Uh oh, stomach cramps. "Nick, I have to get some water." "OK, Chris, I will see you out there!" he says.
I downed 2 or 3 cups of water, feeling like I had too much salt from the nutrition/drink I had consumed on the bike. I started to run. What is that pain in my left knee? NO! I have never had a problem with my IT band on the left before! Why now? Shooting pain down the outside of my left knee. Tough it out. Keep going. Next water station, 3 more cups of water. Stomach not feeling so good and all tight. What is going on?! Keep going...
The first 3 miles of the run repeated itself at each mile. Run, knee pain, tight stomach, water station, drink water, repeat. By mile 3 the pain in my knee brought me to a walk, after three 10-minute miles, well off of my expected pace. By this time, my hips were starting to ache, as well. Frustration set in. Run, Chris. Stop walking and RUN! I ran 100 feet or so and my knee gave out. OK, walk it if you have to, but you are going to finish this race...
The run course consisted of 2 loops that started and finished at a small arena. Outside of the arena, the Titans dressed in bright orange shirts and accompanied by Tracy and about 50 others, were cheering everyone on. Time on the run at this point for me was about 1:15. Well behind my goal and previous times. I managed a slow, painful jog to where they were standing and they cheered me on. "Come on, Chris! You're looking great!" they shouted. "My TI band is shot," I said. "You got it, Chris! Even if you have to walk it, you've got it!" My pace quickened and the pain seemed to subside. They gave me a much-needed boost...shortly after, the pain returned and I was walking again.
My final loop of the run (walk) course was painful. By this time, it wasn't just my knee and my stomach, but my hips, as well. I was limping badly and had lots of time to think, become frustrated, etc. There were moments when I got angry at my body and at myself. I should have trained longer or harder to have prevented this. Points where it would have been very easy to let emotion take over. Every so often, I would run across a bright orange sign on the run course. "Go Titans! Celebrate the Journey!" they said. I had plenty of time to reflect on my journey. Not just during the race, but leading up to the race.
As I approached the final part of the last loop, I ran into another Titan who was forced to walk due to stomach issues. Roy and I walked for about 1/2 mile together as we got close to the arena. Roy was only on his first loop. I can't remember exactly what he said to me, but it was something like, "OK, Chris, it is time for your glory run. Let's go, I will run with you." And we started and ran until Roy went left to the second loop and I went right to loop around the arena so that I could enter the arena itself and everyone waiting at the finish line.
Now, I never knew if I should believe the stories I hear about the Super Bowl or events where they talk about coming out of a dark tunnel and into a huge stadium or arena to a crowd, but I do now. I was all by myself going around the arena. There were no other runners and very few fans. I came around the corner to a dark tunnel made of concrete walls. A dim light was at the end of the tunnel and I could hear some faint noise that I didn't really make out. As I got further into the tunnel, there were more people lining the walls and they started cheering me on. My spirits lifed and adrenaline kicked in. I hear an announcer calling out finishers. Still in the tunnel. Then, as I leave the darkness of the tunnel, I hear the announcer. "Now coming to the finish line is Christopher Morgan of Lambertville, New Jersey!" I look around and see tons of people and they are all cheering me through the finish. Elation. Sprint, Chris. Push it as hard as you can!!! Hands raised, I crossed the finish line with a total time of 6:31:13.
My first thoughts after the race were these:
1. I am disappointed at my run time.
2. I need to sit down because my hips are killing me!
Despite all of the thoughts that went through my mind, throughout the entire race, there was not one moment where I thought about quitting or not being able to finish the race. There were absolutely thoughts that questioned why I would do this to myself. Subject myself to all of this. But I was always going to finish. Oh yeah, and I did question my sanity about committing to a FULL Ironman next June, after feeling another 3 consecutive hours on the bike...
Mike Ferranti was absolutely right the day that he convinced me to run this race. He told me that his first Half Ironman was a hugely emotional and personal experience. He promised me that it would be the same for me. For me, completing the Longhorn 70.3 isn't the accomplishment, even though it is the marker and event in time. Going into the race on Sunday, I had no question in my mind that I could finish that race. Heck, I thought I would PR every piece of it...I nearly did. But, as Mike would also say, "2 out of 3 is what it is..." "Almost" doesn't count. Triathlon is about putting 3 sports together to a single outcome. Thanks, Mike, for all of your help and support. I know that it won't be too long before you start talking trash around my times, but your willingness to wait until the sting subsides speaks volumes about your character and understanding of the experience.
Looking back, it is because of the journey towards this race that created the emotion as I completed it. I am back in shape after years of neglecting my body; arguably the best shape of my life or at least on my way there. I have lost 10 pounds, despite the added muscle that I have seen on what used to be a tall, scrawny body. And, I have done things that I not only never thought I would do, but never thought that I COULD do. It is the hours of training and sacrifice that made the race so personal for me that, for a little while, I couldn't see the accomplishment. During and immediately after the race (and maybe still a little now), I was so DISAPPOINTED that I didn't hit the times I thought I should hit, that I didn't see what I had done. Thankfully, in part due to all of your comments, I am starting to see it now...
Ironman? Yeah, I can be one of those. Is it hard? Is it painful at times? ABSOLUTELY. But, isn't anything worth doing? Who's up for the challenge?
I deliberately put off posting details about the race until today, primarily because I wanted and needed some time to reflect upon what happened yesterday. Below, I will give as much detail as I can about the day, although I am still having mixed emotions about it. This is likely to be a REALLY long blog post.
On Saturday, I was blessed to not only have Tracy with me in Austin, but to have my good friend, John Bliss, drive 3 hours from his house in Houston to spend some time with us and watch the beginning of the race. John and I have known each other a long time, but haven't seen each other in years, so to have him take such extraordinary effort meant a lot. Add to John coming to the race that another friend from Lehigh, Nick Mathers, happened to be racing in Austin and was able to join us, and I had my own little crew of supporters. Not bad for being 1500 miles from home.
Alarm went off at 4:30am Sunday morning, but I was already awake. I had gone to bed at 9pm and actually slept until about 12:30am, when my dreams about the race turned woke me and my mind started going...What was my strategy? What goals had I set? Did I have all of my gear? When should I each my GU gels on the run? If I average 20 MPH, how much faster will that make me over a 19 MPH average? ...the questions just kept coming, and I kept repeating the answers that I already knew...
By 4:35am, I was already dressed and into my routine - make 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, drink a Red Bull to get some caffeine in me, eat one of the PB&J's, double-check my gear, pack up the 2nd PB&J for the road, and get ready to go. We were in the car by 5:05am, just 5 minutes behind schedule, but with a full 2.5 hours before the start of the race, still fine to have plenty of time to get there and settled in. The realty of the day started to settle in.
On the car ride over, I tried to get my sandwich down, but even though I was hungry, I felt like I was forcing it. Looking back, I should have recognized this as a potential problem, but I brushed it off. When we arrived at the parking location, I still had half to go and took it with me, along with all of my other gear, to the transfer buses that were to take us to the race start at Walter E. Long Lake. I figured that I might want it later.
We were one of the first groups to arrive at the bike transition (T1) shortly after 5:30am, when T1 opened for athletes to setup their gear. I got to my bike, which I had left in T1 overnight as required by the event, and set up my remaining gear - bike shoes, towel, baby powder for wet feet, socks, helmet, sunglasses, race belt with bib number, etc. (the logistics for a triathlon can be overwhelming) I wasn't there more than 2 minutes when a friendly face arrived at my bike location. Justin, a member of the Titans (the group that invited me to join the other 18 Titans racing that day) who wasn't even racing that day, had a bike pump in hand and was making sure that I had everything I needed. Tires OK? What else do you need? An amazing amount of support from a group of people that I met for the first time 2 days before. Everything was in order, Justin went on to help the next Titan, and I left T1 to rejoin Tracy and meet up with John, who was on his way over to the race start, as well, but slightly behind us.
The next 1 hr + was mostly stretching, prepping, being anxious, second-guessing myself, and the like. But, just before 7:30am, with the sun coming up over the lake, we saw 2 sky divers floating down from the sky, one with a huge American flag hanging from his feet. Then, on cue, the Star Spangled Banner starts, as the sky divers and American flag decend from the sky.
I split from Tracy and John just after the song ended and before the pros went off on their wave. In all, there were nearly 2200 people in the race, spread out over about 17 waves, each 5 minutes apart. I was in wave #9, going off at 8:05am with the age 35-39 group, letters L-Z. The pros came out of the water just before we went "on deck" for our wave. MAN, THOSE GUYS WERE FLYING! First man out of the water in 23 minutes and change...WOW!
There I am standing in my wetsuit, knee deep in the lake, surrounded by probably 100 other guys. "White caps, you have TWO minutes to start!" ..."1 minute to start." ..."30 seconds..." HORN! We were finally off! I dove into the water (at 73 degrees, in the 60 degree air temperature, it felt nice!) and started to swim. I got kicked by those in front of me. I kicked those behind me. I got banged into. I banged into others. Until it started to open up and people separated themselves by ability or the reluctance to get pummelled by other swimmers.
Normally, I go out way too fast on the swim and have a hard time because I feel like I can't breath. My adrenaline starts going and I just kill it. But, I wasn't going to make that mistake this time. I was going to focus on my stroke and just take it at a comfortable pace. Heck, I had 1.2 miles to swim...more than I had ever done at a shot, without rest. And I did just that. I was comfortable the whole way, except for a few instances where I questioned my sanity as the swim seemed like it just was NEVER going to end...
Out of the water at 37:01. YES! Right about where I thought I would be. The planning was paying off! I soared up the exit from the water. Very little vertigo! AWESOME! Still some there, but much more managable than in past races. This is great! Let's go, get your stuff together and get on that bike! I hauled it to my bike location, pulled my stuff out of my bag and went into the T1 routine. Wetsuit off. Spray dirty feet with water bottle. Baby powder feet. Socks on. Bike shoes on. Helmet. Sunglasses. Gatorade concentrate. That it? Yes, GET GOING!
Out of transition in 4:41. Still within what I thought I could do! On the bike and cruising! Initial hills, no problem as I had an initial average speed of over 20MPH. Maybe this upgraded rental bike will make the difference! I look down at the 4 GU gels that I had taped to my bike bar, and there are only 2! Are you KIDDING ME? Someone thieved 2 of my gels...
The first 20+ miles of the bike, my bike computer told me that my average speed was hovering around 20 MPH. I had kept it up, despite the rolling hills on the course. I had actually gotten up to a maximum speed of over 36 MPH. I wasn't killing it, but I felt good and I was above where I have been in the past and at where I wanted to be. The bumpy roads we were on didn't help, but I was cruising. And never alone on the bike. There were always handfuls of people around, I am sure due to the volume of competitors on the course. I passed many and got passed.
At some point around the 2 hour mark, I felt some discomfort in my mid-section but nothing that was stopping me. Then, I started to have pain in my back, seemingly from the vibrations of my bike coming off of some of the roads we were riding on. Still going... 2.5 hours in (45 or so miles into the race) and my butt was becoming intolerably bruised. I couldn't get comfortable and it was starting to really impact my pace. And now I felt hungry, or something... My average continued to fall and at point went sub-19MPH. "WHY am I doing this again?" I just couldn't wait to get off of that bike! "Just get me to the run and off of this seat!"
Off the bike in 2:58:01. REALLY?! AWESOME! All the pain in my back side was worth it! I was in under the 3 hour mark, which really was my primary mark. Into transition to the run (T2). Rack the bike. Helmet off. Bike shoes off. Running shoes on. Hat on. GO! GO! GO! The only thing I slowed for was to have the volunteers slap sun tan lotion on my shoulders and neck so I wouldn't fry.
Out of T2 in 4:07. A little slow. But, just as I left T2, I hear someone say, "Chris, is that you?" It was Nick Mathers. We were exiting at the same time and about to start the run. This is great! Maybe we can pace our run together! Uh oh, stomach cramps. "Nick, I have to get some water." "OK, Chris, I will see you out there!" he says.
I downed 2 or 3 cups of water, feeling like I had too much salt from the nutrition/drink I had consumed on the bike. I started to run. What is that pain in my left knee? NO! I have never had a problem with my IT band on the left before! Why now? Shooting pain down the outside of my left knee. Tough it out. Keep going. Next water station, 3 more cups of water. Stomach not feeling so good and all tight. What is going on?! Keep going...
The first 3 miles of the run repeated itself at each mile. Run, knee pain, tight stomach, water station, drink water, repeat. By mile 3 the pain in my knee brought me to a walk, after three 10-minute miles, well off of my expected pace. By this time, my hips were starting to ache, as well. Frustration set in. Run, Chris. Stop walking and RUN! I ran 100 feet or so and my knee gave out. OK, walk it if you have to, but you are going to finish this race...
The run course consisted of 2 loops that started and finished at a small arena. Outside of the arena, the Titans dressed in bright orange shirts and accompanied by Tracy and about 50 others, were cheering everyone on. Time on the run at this point for me was about 1:15. Well behind my goal and previous times. I managed a slow, painful jog to where they were standing and they cheered me on. "Come on, Chris! You're looking great!" they shouted. "My TI band is shot," I said. "You got it, Chris! Even if you have to walk it, you've got it!" My pace quickened and the pain seemed to subside. They gave me a much-needed boost...shortly after, the pain returned and I was walking again.
My final loop of the run (walk) course was painful. By this time, it wasn't just my knee and my stomach, but my hips, as well. I was limping badly and had lots of time to think, become frustrated, etc. There were moments when I got angry at my body and at myself. I should have trained longer or harder to have prevented this. Points where it would have been very easy to let emotion take over. Every so often, I would run across a bright orange sign on the run course. "Go Titans! Celebrate the Journey!" they said. I had plenty of time to reflect on my journey. Not just during the race, but leading up to the race.
As I approached the final part of the last loop, I ran into another Titan who was forced to walk due to stomach issues. Roy and I walked for about 1/2 mile together as we got close to the arena. Roy was only on his first loop. I can't remember exactly what he said to me, but it was something like, "OK, Chris, it is time for your glory run. Let's go, I will run with you." And we started and ran until Roy went left to the second loop and I went right to loop around the arena so that I could enter the arena itself and everyone waiting at the finish line.
Now, I never knew if I should believe the stories I hear about the Super Bowl or events where they talk about coming out of a dark tunnel and into a huge stadium or arena to a crowd, but I do now. I was all by myself going around the arena. There were no other runners and very few fans. I came around the corner to a dark tunnel made of concrete walls. A dim light was at the end of the tunnel and I could hear some faint noise that I didn't really make out. As I got further into the tunnel, there were more people lining the walls and they started cheering me on. My spirits lifed and adrenaline kicked in. I hear an announcer calling out finishers. Still in the tunnel. Then, as I leave the darkness of the tunnel, I hear the announcer. "Now coming to the finish line is Christopher Morgan of Lambertville, New Jersey!" I look around and see tons of people and they are all cheering me through the finish. Elation. Sprint, Chris. Push it as hard as you can!!! Hands raised, I crossed the finish line with a total time of 6:31:13.
My first thoughts after the race were these:
1. I am disappointed at my run time.
2. I need to sit down because my hips are killing me!
Despite all of the thoughts that went through my mind, throughout the entire race, there was not one moment where I thought about quitting or not being able to finish the race. There were absolutely thoughts that questioned why I would do this to myself. Subject myself to all of this. But I was always going to finish. Oh yeah, and I did question my sanity about committing to a FULL Ironman next June, after feeling another 3 consecutive hours on the bike...
Mike Ferranti was absolutely right the day that he convinced me to run this race. He told me that his first Half Ironman was a hugely emotional and personal experience. He promised me that it would be the same for me. For me, completing the Longhorn 70.3 isn't the accomplishment, even though it is the marker and event in time. Going into the race on Sunday, I had no question in my mind that I could finish that race. Heck, I thought I would PR every piece of it...I nearly did. But, as Mike would also say, "2 out of 3 is what it is..." "Almost" doesn't count. Triathlon is about putting 3 sports together to a single outcome. Thanks, Mike, for all of your help and support. I know that it won't be too long before you start talking trash around my times, but your willingness to wait until the sting subsides speaks volumes about your character and understanding of the experience.
Looking back, it is because of the journey towards this race that created the emotion as I completed it. I am back in shape after years of neglecting my body; arguably the best shape of my life or at least on my way there. I have lost 10 pounds, despite the added muscle that I have seen on what used to be a tall, scrawny body. And, I have done things that I not only never thought I would do, but never thought that I COULD do. It is the hours of training and sacrifice that made the race so personal for me that, for a little while, I couldn't see the accomplishment. During and immediately after the race (and maybe still a little now), I was so DISAPPOINTED that I didn't hit the times I thought I should hit, that I didn't see what I had done. Thankfully, in part due to all of your comments, I am starting to see it now...
Ironman? Yeah, I can be one of those. Is it hard? Is it painful at times? ABSOLUTELY. But, isn't anything worth doing? Who's up for the challenge?
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Prepping to Leave for Austin
So, 11 months after committing to run the Longhorn 70.3 Ironman, 10 months after I started my training, and 6 months since I actually got serious with my training, the day has arrived. I still can't believe that it is, and that I will be getting on a plane this afternoon and heading to Austin, TX. What a ride it has been, so far!
Yesterday, there was no anxiety. The fact that the race was only days away hadn't really hit me yet. I guess that I have been working and waiting so long that it just didn't seem real. Today, though, it is getting real. No real anxiety, but the excitement is starting. I can feel it building and know that, by Sunday, I will be psyched up for the race.
I knew that there was going to be a lot to think about and pack, and I was right. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about a bike because I have rented one in Austin, but I do have to worry about all of the things ON my bike. Aero bars, bottle cages, tools, water bottles, etc. They all have to be taken off of my bike, packed, and brought because, although I have rented a bike, it doesn't have any of the extras that I need to compete on Sunday. Then there is my race gear: watch, heart-rate monitor, goggles, running shoes, bike shoes, sunglasses, bike helmet, race belt. Oh yeah, let's not forget about nutrition! Infinit powder, GU, etc. The logistics of a triathlon became clear to me, again, when I started packing all of this stuff. What if I forget something?!
In my last post, I said that my goal time was sub-5:40 and that I would be ecstatic if I could do it in 5:30. The original mark of 5:40 was set because of the times that Mike Ferranti had done in the same race last year. Since that last post, I have spent a great deal of time crunching the numbers and I am going to update my goals. I will get to that in a minute, but here is kind of what I have been thinking:
The goal that I set is based on my past performance. Granted, these were swims, rides, and runs that were isolated and not one after the other, so there will likely be an impact as I do them all together. But, I have also been biking on hilly courses and with a low-end road bike. This is one of the big unknowns. What will a better bike, with high-end wheels, do to my times? Can I gain 1-2 MPH just on an upgrade of equipment? I think I can see a slight gain in speed just from the equipment upgrade.
Everyone that I have spoken to tells me that the bike, wheels, and helmet that you use all have a big impact on speed and performance. As of now, I have upgraded 2 of the 3 (helmet still under consideration). If I can squeak out even just 1 MPH above my 19 MPH average on past rides, I can shave 12 minutes off of my bike time. A gain of 2 MPH would shave 20 minutes. Those are big numbers and have a huge impact on my time and goals, but it is also totally unknown what the impact will truly be.
Given the above, and in retracing my past performances, I put together 3 scenarios and associated times: Highly probable splits/times, possible splits/times, and big stretch/less probable splits/times.
5:40 is highly probable. There really isn't any reason that I shouldn't be able to hit this mark, barring some serious problem.
5:30 is definitely possible and wouldn't take a huge amount of additional effort to hit, if my assumptions are correct (1 MPH on the bike would more than cover it, right?).
And, my BIG stretch goal is 5 hours. Doing this race under 5 hours would be EPIC! In order to do that, I would really have to kill the bike AND complete my run in a similar time to what I did at the Jersey City Half Marathon (1:38). I don't believe it is totally out of the question, but everything would have to go exactly right for me to hit 5 hours...
This race was initially meant to be one that a group of people from my BOG (Birthing of Giants) class were all going to participate in. Mike Ferranti convinced me, and I was told, 4-5 others to race in Austin. We were going to step it up in a way that was similar to the Titans, another similar group of BOGers, and do the race together. Over the last several weeks, the numbers have been twindling. First, it was Mike dropping because he committed to running a full Ironman next month and Austin was just too close to that race. Next, I found out that a couple more I expected to show had never signed up, for whatever reason, and now were not planning to race. Then, last week, the one remaining person, who HAD signed up and was on the competitor list, had to bail as well. So, here I am, the last man standing.
Fortunately, Mike hooked me up with the Titans, another group of BOGers from an earlier year, and they have welcomed me onto their team. There will be 19 of us racing on Sunday, and some 40 spectators specifically for/from our group. The Titans are well organized and have a complete agenda for the weekend, which includes pre-race run-throughs, a carb-loading pasta dinner the night before the race, a tent with catered lunch for family/friends during the race, and a post-race party. What a great way to enhance the experience!
So, the time is here. If I didn't train enough, it is too late to do anything about that. But, I am confident that I have. I KNOW, short of a major injury (knock on wood), that I will finish the race. The question is, "How long will it take me to get to the finish line?"
Yesterday, there was no anxiety. The fact that the race was only days away hadn't really hit me yet. I guess that I have been working and waiting so long that it just didn't seem real. Today, though, it is getting real. No real anxiety, but the excitement is starting. I can feel it building and know that, by Sunday, I will be psyched up for the race.
I knew that there was going to be a lot to think about and pack, and I was right. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about a bike because I have rented one in Austin, but I do have to worry about all of the things ON my bike. Aero bars, bottle cages, tools, water bottles, etc. They all have to be taken off of my bike, packed, and brought because, although I have rented a bike, it doesn't have any of the extras that I need to compete on Sunday. Then there is my race gear: watch, heart-rate monitor, goggles, running shoes, bike shoes, sunglasses, bike helmet, race belt. Oh yeah, let's not forget about nutrition! Infinit powder, GU, etc. The logistics of a triathlon became clear to me, again, when I started packing all of this stuff. What if I forget something?!
In my last post, I said that my goal time was sub-5:40 and that I would be ecstatic if I could do it in 5:30. The original mark of 5:40 was set because of the times that Mike Ferranti had done in the same race last year. Since that last post, I have spent a great deal of time crunching the numbers and I am going to update my goals. I will get to that in a minute, but here is kind of what I have been thinking:
The goal that I set is based on my past performance. Granted, these were swims, rides, and runs that were isolated and not one after the other, so there will likely be an impact as I do them all together. But, I have also been biking on hilly courses and with a low-end road bike. This is one of the big unknowns. What will a better bike, with high-end wheels, do to my times? Can I gain 1-2 MPH just on an upgrade of equipment? I think I can see a slight gain in speed just from the equipment upgrade.
Everyone that I have spoken to tells me that the bike, wheels, and helmet that you use all have a big impact on speed and performance. As of now, I have upgraded 2 of the 3 (helmet still under consideration). If I can squeak out even just 1 MPH above my 19 MPH average on past rides, I can shave 12 minutes off of my bike time. A gain of 2 MPH would shave 20 minutes. Those are big numbers and have a huge impact on my time and goals, but it is also totally unknown what the impact will truly be.
Given the above, and in retracing my past performances, I put together 3 scenarios and associated times: Highly probable splits/times, possible splits/times, and big stretch/less probable splits/times.
5:40 is highly probable. There really isn't any reason that I shouldn't be able to hit this mark, barring some serious problem.
5:30 is definitely possible and wouldn't take a huge amount of additional effort to hit, if my assumptions are correct (1 MPH on the bike would more than cover it, right?).
And, my BIG stretch goal is 5 hours. Doing this race under 5 hours would be EPIC! In order to do that, I would really have to kill the bike AND complete my run in a similar time to what I did at the Jersey City Half Marathon (1:38). I don't believe it is totally out of the question, but everything would have to go exactly right for me to hit 5 hours...
This race was initially meant to be one that a group of people from my BOG (Birthing of Giants) class were all going to participate in. Mike Ferranti convinced me, and I was told, 4-5 others to race in Austin. We were going to step it up in a way that was similar to the Titans, another similar group of BOGers, and do the race together. Over the last several weeks, the numbers have been twindling. First, it was Mike dropping because he committed to running a full Ironman next month and Austin was just too close to that race. Next, I found out that a couple more I expected to show had never signed up, for whatever reason, and now were not planning to race. Then, last week, the one remaining person, who HAD signed up and was on the competitor list, had to bail as well. So, here I am, the last man standing.
Fortunately, Mike hooked me up with the Titans, another group of BOGers from an earlier year, and they have welcomed me onto their team. There will be 19 of us racing on Sunday, and some 40 spectators specifically for/from our group. The Titans are well organized and have a complete agenda for the weekend, which includes pre-race run-throughs, a carb-loading pasta dinner the night before the race, a tent with catered lunch for family/friends during the race, and a post-race party. What a great way to enhance the experience!
So, the time is here. If I didn't train enough, it is too late to do anything about that. But, I am confident that I have. I KNOW, short of a major injury (knock on wood), that I will finish the race. The question is, "How long will it take me to get to the finish line?"
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Jersey City Half Marathon...and more!
It has been quite a while since my last post and a lot of training has been taking place in that time. Apologies!
Just a quick recap, in the past 4 weeks since my last post, I have done a 100K (63 miles) bike ride (Metric Century) and another sprint triathlon, in addition to my other training, which has consisted mostly of speed/interval work. The Century ride was meant to give me a sense for how long it would take for me to do the bike portion of the Longorn 70.3 and I came in right where I thought that I would: right about 3 hours at the 56 mile mark (just under 19mph avg). Total time for 63 miles was 3:31:46. A new PR for distance on the bike!!! God, did my butt hurt after spending 3+ hours on a bike... ugh!
That ride was on Saturday and I do not know what I was thinking, but I did the Skylands Sprint Tri the next day! Boy, could I feel it. I had nothing left in my legs for the bike portion of that tri, although my running legs were surprisingly strong. The hills on the bike were monsterous and, in spots, people were getting off of their bikes to walk up the hills. Fortunately, I was able to avoid that and muscle through it. Avg bike speed was only 15.5 mph, although I did get up as high as 37 mph on the downhill. It was wet, so I had to be more careful than usual. The run saw an average pace of 7:33 min/miles, which I was pleased with given my struggle from the bike. Overall, it was an OK finish, but it did teach me that I need to pick up on my swim (I had trouble breathing so I went to a breast stroke for most of it) and that running after 56 miles on the bike is going to be a challenge. (and I signed up to do a FULL Ironman? How bad will my butt hurt on a bike for 112 miles, or 6 hours?!)
Just as the Century ride was meant to gauge my progress on the bike, I committed to running the Jersey City Half Marathon to gauge my progress on the run. That was today and the result was a new PR! 1:38:38 unoffical time!!! That is an avg of 7:22 on the run. I felt great for about the first 9 miles, with my first mile coming in just under 7 minutes and my averages through 9 miles right around 7:15, which was my goal. The trouble hit about the start of mile 10, when I started to really feel fatigued. My average miles slowly climbed to about a 7:45 avg, with my worst mile (mile 13) coming in at 8 minutes. The mental games were fierce at the end, with me constantly battling the urge to walk. It always amazes me how much your mind plays into these things. It can either shut you down or keep you pushing on. You just have to know the right things to say to yourself. All in all, I am very happy with my time, as I was shooting for 1:45 and hoping for 1:40. To come in under that is just AWESOME!
So, tomorrow begins my taper, with 3 weeks until Austin. My bike and a wetsuit are rented, airline tickets purchased, and hotel reserved. I am hoping that an upgraded road bike and addition of a wetsuit will only improve my speed/times. As it stands right now, goal is to finish the Longhorn 70.3 under 5:40, with the hope of pushing under 5:30. To do it in 5:40, my split goals break down like this:
Swim - 0:35
T1 - 0:03
Bike - 3:00
T2 - 0:02
Run - 2:00
The big unknown right now is how my legs will hold up on the run after the bike... If I can do a half at 1:38 when fresh, I am hoping to keep it under 2 hrs after the bike... Anything less than 3 hrs on the bike is a huge bonus, since that is where the most time can be made up.
Just a quick recap, in the past 4 weeks since my last post, I have done a 100K (63 miles) bike ride (Metric Century) and another sprint triathlon, in addition to my other training, which has consisted mostly of speed/interval work. The Century ride was meant to give me a sense for how long it would take for me to do the bike portion of the Longorn 70.3 and I came in right where I thought that I would: right about 3 hours at the 56 mile mark (just under 19mph avg). Total time for 63 miles was 3:31:46. A new PR for distance on the bike!!! God, did my butt hurt after spending 3+ hours on a bike... ugh!
That ride was on Saturday and I do not know what I was thinking, but I did the Skylands Sprint Tri the next day! Boy, could I feel it. I had nothing left in my legs for the bike portion of that tri, although my running legs were surprisingly strong. The hills on the bike were monsterous and, in spots, people were getting off of their bikes to walk up the hills. Fortunately, I was able to avoid that and muscle through it. Avg bike speed was only 15.5 mph, although I did get up as high as 37 mph on the downhill. It was wet, so I had to be more careful than usual. The run saw an average pace of 7:33 min/miles, which I was pleased with given my struggle from the bike. Overall, it was an OK finish, but it did teach me that I need to pick up on my swim (I had trouble breathing so I went to a breast stroke for most of it) and that running after 56 miles on the bike is going to be a challenge. (and I signed up to do a FULL Ironman? How bad will my butt hurt on a bike for 112 miles, or 6 hours?!)
Just as the Century ride was meant to gauge my progress on the bike, I committed to running the Jersey City Half Marathon to gauge my progress on the run. That was today and the result was a new PR! 1:38:38 unoffical time!!! That is an avg of 7:22 on the run. I felt great for about the first 9 miles, with my first mile coming in just under 7 minutes and my averages through 9 miles right around 7:15, which was my goal. The trouble hit about the start of mile 10, when I started to really feel fatigued. My average miles slowly climbed to about a 7:45 avg, with my worst mile (mile 13) coming in at 8 minutes. The mental games were fierce at the end, with me constantly battling the urge to walk. It always amazes me how much your mind plays into these things. It can either shut you down or keep you pushing on. You just have to know the right things to say to yourself. All in all, I am very happy with my time, as I was shooting for 1:45 and hoping for 1:40. To come in under that is just AWESOME!
So, tomorrow begins my taper, with 3 weeks until Austin. My bike and a wetsuit are rented, airline tickets purchased, and hotel reserved. I am hoping that an upgraded road bike and addition of a wetsuit will only improve my speed/times. As it stands right now, goal is to finish the Longhorn 70.3 under 5:40, with the hope of pushing under 5:30. To do it in 5:40, my split goals break down like this:
Swim - 0:35
T1 - 0:03
Bike - 3:00
T2 - 0:02
Run - 2:00
The big unknown right now is how my legs will hold up on the run after the bike... If I can do a half at 1:38 when fresh, I am hoping to keep it under 2 hrs after the bike... Anything less than 3 hrs on the bike is a huge bonus, since that is where the most time can be made up.
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