The last couple of months since Redman have been rough. So many ups and downs. So much struggling. Too much rest. No desire to write. No desire to read. Or do anything, at all.
The week after Redman was a struggle, mentally, to move. At this point, I think I simply needed rest. Racing the Sprint and Half back to back took a lot more out of me than even I thought it would. For awhile though, I couldn't understand why I couldn't get myself off the couch. Motivation was non-existant.
I tried after a couple days, but literally failed. Two workouts had my legs feeling fatigued to the bone and I was back on the couch for another couple days.
This time I started slow and tried to build even slower. By day 3 of easy workouts, I was struggling just to finish a slow, 4 mile run. Something was very wrong.
My first guess? Anemia. Since easy training was not making things better, but instead worse, I popped an iron supplement to see what it would do. The next day I had the best run interval workout I've ever had. I thought for sure I had things figured out. I mean, problem solved, right?
Well what happened is I listened to everyone else tell me that I was simply overtrained and that it was a coincidence and taking iron supplements was risky. So I stopped. I figured if it was iron deficiency, I would just cut out the enormous amount of fine Japanese green tea that I brew and drink every day and focus on a high iron and vitamin C diet to help it absorb.
Well it didn't exactly work, as I had a terrible race at the US Open, and then proceeded to run my body into the ground for the next couple of weeks with a lot of hard run training. Though I was able to do quite a bit more work on the high iron absorption diet, I still wasn't close to right. By the time, I was getting prepped for my next race, the Fall Classic Duathlon, I knew something was very wrong. This time I ascribed it to overtraining.
Surprisingly, I still raced fairly well at the duathlon, taking 3rd for the state championship event. However, I felt like I had been racing for 5 hours afterwards, and not the hour and a half that it took. I decided to try a week off and see what happens.
After struggling to keep myself indoors for a solid week of good weather, I couldn't wait to get back to training. But when I did, it felt like my fitness had completely deserted me. I felt very fresh, but I was very slow. My watts were down about 10% on the bike and my run pace had slowed by more than a minute per mile. And I simply wasn't really recovering from the easy workouts I was doing. How could I expect to qualify for Kona, much less Vegas again, like this!?
By the next week, I wasn't just back where I was a month ago, struggling with slow, easy 4 mile runs, I was even starting to get sick. I never get sick. Not without so much training stress, work stress, and lack of sleep that my entire body breaks down and finally succumbs to illness. No way I could get sick while resting and sleeping all the time without something being very very wrong.
The illness also did not go away in a day like normal. So for three days I suffered along, until, finally I decided I had to revisit the anemia hypothesis and go get my blood tested. Well I decided not to wait on those test results. There were just too many signs. My systolic blood pressure had magically dropped 10-15 points consistently. I got a slight headache. I never get headaches. I felt tired during and after recovery workouts. My body was even starting to ache in a way that was dull, but constant and uncomfortable enough to make getting to sleep difficult.
It was time. I was ready to try anything. I again popped an iron supplement, and the very next day I was miraculously not sick anymore and running 20 seconds per mile faster for the same heart rate while actually feeling good during and after the run. The next day I rode half-Ironman watts at the same heart rate and effort as I did while in taper and racing at Redman! A few days of iron supplements later and another 20 seconds per mile had dropped off my run pace!
It was unbelievable. The energy started flowing back. In a matter of days. I'm now even writing again! Turns out that my fitness hadn't completely deserted me after all.
Now here's the kicker. The blood tests show that my iron levels are good, and that my hematocrit is actually 2% higher than when I was tested last year. I'm not anemic. Am I now completely and utterly confused? Absolutely. But as long as I'm on track to getting my training back to normal, I'm at least happy.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
My First Win!
After the Redman Halfmax National Championship was done and over, I immediately got to eating and drinking as much as I could stand in the hopes that I could get my weight and glucose stores back up enough that I might be able to race the Redman Sprint the next day.
Possibly, it was a good thing that I felt tired, sluggish and like my legs could seize at any moment, becuase, I had no expectations on race day morning. During the pre-race meeting at the swim start, I realized I didn't have my chip. No worries, I simply jogged the half mile to transition and back to get it. If I missed the start, oh well. No expectations. Just start the race and enjoy it.
As soon as the gun went off though, my body was moving. I was off to a great start by lining up on the shallower end and next thing I know I'm sitting in a small front group with only a few off the front. It gets shallow again in the middle and I dolphin dive for a bit, but realize I have nowhere to go as the guys off the front are way off and not remotely catchable, so I settle back in and let myself get pulled to the swim finish. Without my heart exploding through my chest.
Transition goes well and fast as usual despite struggling with coordination quite a bit more than normal. That is until I jumped on my bike and somehow managed to slip off the top of my shoe and have to come to a complete stop for a second before getting to speed again. At the time though, I wasn't worried, I could feel it in my legs and they just were not there. For the first two miles, the half-Ironman watts I had easily put out yesterday were a struggle.
But then, instantaneously, everything changed. My legs woke up. I mean really really woke up. All of a sudden, I was putting out more power with ease than I ever had. I caught a first guy and then a second and looked to the next, so far ahead I could barely see him. Within a mile he was mine. And then another one bit the dust. And another one, until finally, the last one was in sight.
But he was moving. I had been barely gaining the whole time. I made the pass, but we were too close to transition, there was going to be no time to gain additional ground on the bike, I was going to have to do it on the run.
I flew through transition as fast as I ever have and immediately surged out onto the run course at a pace I knew I couldn't keep for long. After a few minutes, I chanced a look back. No one in sight. I stepped it down to threshold and held on as I blazed through the run course with my first lead in a race ever.
The whole time my legs were threatening to seize up and stop me from moving, but I couldn't risk slowing up, I had no idea who might be behind me. At the turnaround, I saw the gap I had on the others and knew I had it, as long as I could hold this pace. I kept the pressure on and held it all the way with a determination I'd never felt before. The legs held up, and I flew into the finish with a big lead. That feeling, of running into the finisher's area past all the triathlon clubs and spectators, is one I will never forget. My first win in an outdoor triathlon!
Possibly, it was a good thing that I felt tired, sluggish and like my legs could seize at any moment, becuase, I had no expectations on race day morning. During the pre-race meeting at the swim start, I realized I didn't have my chip. No worries, I simply jogged the half mile to transition and back to get it. If I missed the start, oh well. No expectations. Just start the race and enjoy it.
As soon as the gun went off though, my body was moving. I was off to a great start by lining up on the shallower end and next thing I know I'm sitting in a small front group with only a few off the front. It gets shallow again in the middle and I dolphin dive for a bit, but realize I have nowhere to go as the guys off the front are way off and not remotely catchable, so I settle back in and let myself get pulled to the swim finish. Without my heart exploding through my chest.
Transition goes well and fast as usual despite struggling with coordination quite a bit more than normal. That is until I jumped on my bike and somehow managed to slip off the top of my shoe and have to come to a complete stop for a second before getting to speed again. At the time though, I wasn't worried, I could feel it in my legs and they just were not there. For the first two miles, the half-Ironman watts I had easily put out yesterday were a struggle.
But then, instantaneously, everything changed. My legs woke up. I mean really really woke up. All of a sudden, I was putting out more power with ease than I ever had. I caught a first guy and then a second and looked to the next, so far ahead I could barely see him. Within a mile he was mine. And then another one bit the dust. And another one, until finally, the last one was in sight.
But he was moving. I had been barely gaining the whole time. I made the pass, but we were too close to transition, there was going to be no time to gain additional ground on the bike, I was going to have to do it on the run.
I flew through transition as fast as I ever have and immediately surged out onto the run course at a pace I knew I couldn't keep for long. After a few minutes, I chanced a look back. No one in sight. I stepped it down to threshold and held on as I blazed through the run course with my first lead in a race ever.
The whole time my legs were threatening to seize up and stop me from moving, but I couldn't risk slowing up, I had no idea who might be behind me. At the turnaround, I saw the gap I had on the others and knew I had it, as long as I could hold this pace. I kept the pressure on and held it all the way with a determination I'd never felt before. The legs held up, and I flew into the finish with a big lead. That feeling, of running into the finisher's area past all the triathlon clubs and spectators, is one I will never forget. My first win in an outdoor triathlon!
Redman Halfmax National Championship
After dehydrating and struggling just to run at the World Championship in Vegas, I was determined that this race would be different. Well it was. I made the opposite mistake. Two miles into this run, my legs were fresh, I was well-hydrated, I was running relatively fast, but I was already battling horrendous side stitches from running with a stomach too full of fluid.
Two weeks ago, I had recovered surprisingly well from my disastrous and tough race in Vegas. But as soon as I arrived in Oklahoma, I was immediately battling allergies worse than any I'd ever had. Which, once again, put a hamper on the intense, finishing workouts I wanted to get in before race day. However, on race day, it didn't matter all that much, the fitness was once again there.
After a long (literally, it was a long course), but solid swim, I was again on the bike and feeling very strong. Surprisingly though, this was a much faster national championship than I had thought, and I had to hold myself back as I was passed by several riders at the start. For most of the first half of the ride, I was mostly alone, riding at my specific power output. However, at the turnaround, I was caught and passed by a paceline of riders. At first I thought it to be a draft pack, but closer inspection showed that they were mostly riding legal, if maybe taking a bit long to pass each other at times. It was perfect. I picked the power up a bit to latch on and make sure I wasn't going to be left behind.
This is when I realized exactly how much a benefit a paceline can have. Sitting around 5 or 6 bikes back, each bike at a legal distance apart, my power went way down. However, when passing, I was often having to put out over 50% more power than my target at times just to make sure I could pass everyone in the required amount of time (to stay legal). After awhile, I started to realize it was probably a good idea just to sit in somewhere if I could.
Unfortunately, it was at this time that I could no longer hold it in. I had been overcompensating for underhydrating two weeks ago, and now I had reached a point where I could no longer stand it. I had to go. So for the first time, I stopped pedaling, and watched as a stream gushed out of my shorts and down my leg and all over my bike. And the paceline disappeared in the distance.
I was now in the last hour of racing though, and still felt very fresh. Heart rate was very low this time, and I felt it was time to bump the power up and see what happens. It took miles to catch the paceline, but once I did I soon left them behind as they started to drop off. In no time, I was back on the edge of the lake, racing around it in anticipation of a blazing fast run.
And there it was again. Except way worse since I was running. My stomach was not only too full of fluids, but my bladder as well. As I blazed out of transition, I started to realize the mistake I had made. There was no bathroom anywhere in sight. I had just left it behind. I was going to have to run quite a ways before I was going to find one.
I did, of course, but I barely made it another mile before the side stitches started to get really bad. At this time, I made the decision to stop taking in fluids, except for a few sips at each aid station. Since I was also getting my nutrition from aid stations I knew it was going to be dicey if I could make it to the end before I bonked. However, the side stitches were keeping me from dropping under a 6:30/mi run pace, and I did not want them getting worse.
It turned out to be another mistake. The last several miles I slowed considerably from the lack of nutrition, and of course, still had to battle side stitches. Still though, at least I wasn't hot and extremely dehydrated. In fact, with temps under 90 and plenty of ice and cold spongues it felt almost cool at times. I was likely still very dehydrated at the finish, but it was nothing like my experience two weeks ago. Overall, it was a solid race that taught me yet another lesson about race nutrition and ended with a very positive 2nd in age group placement and a PR of 4:36:01 (not bad considering the long swim and rough roads).
Still though, like always, for more than an hour after the race was over, the pain was almost as bad as it had been during the last few miles of the race. Fairly normal for me after a race of this distance. But, how the heck was I going to get up and race again tomorrow!?
Two weeks ago, I had recovered surprisingly well from my disastrous and tough race in Vegas. But as soon as I arrived in Oklahoma, I was immediately battling allergies worse than any I'd ever had. Which, once again, put a hamper on the intense, finishing workouts I wanted to get in before race day. However, on race day, it didn't matter all that much, the fitness was once again there.
After a long (literally, it was a long course), but solid swim, I was again on the bike and feeling very strong. Surprisingly though, this was a much faster national championship than I had thought, and I had to hold myself back as I was passed by several riders at the start. For most of the first half of the ride, I was mostly alone, riding at my specific power output. However, at the turnaround, I was caught and passed by a paceline of riders. At first I thought it to be a draft pack, but closer inspection showed that they were mostly riding legal, if maybe taking a bit long to pass each other at times. It was perfect. I picked the power up a bit to latch on and make sure I wasn't going to be left behind.
This is when I realized exactly how much a benefit a paceline can have. Sitting around 5 or 6 bikes back, each bike at a legal distance apart, my power went way down. However, when passing, I was often having to put out over 50% more power than my target at times just to make sure I could pass everyone in the required amount of time (to stay legal). After awhile, I started to realize it was probably a good idea just to sit in somewhere if I could.
Unfortunately, it was at this time that I could no longer hold it in. I had been overcompensating for underhydrating two weeks ago, and now I had reached a point where I could no longer stand it. I had to go. So for the first time, I stopped pedaling, and watched as a stream gushed out of my shorts and down my leg and all over my bike. And the paceline disappeared in the distance.
I was now in the last hour of racing though, and still felt very fresh. Heart rate was very low this time, and I felt it was time to bump the power up and see what happens. It took miles to catch the paceline, but once I did I soon left them behind as they started to drop off. In no time, I was back on the edge of the lake, racing around it in anticipation of a blazing fast run.
And there it was again. Except way worse since I was running. My stomach was not only too full of fluids, but my bladder as well. As I blazed out of transition, I started to realize the mistake I had made. There was no bathroom anywhere in sight. I had just left it behind. I was going to have to run quite a ways before I was going to find one.
I did, of course, but I barely made it another mile before the side stitches started to get really bad. At this time, I made the decision to stop taking in fluids, except for a few sips at each aid station. Since I was also getting my nutrition from aid stations I knew it was going to be dicey if I could make it to the end before I bonked. However, the side stitches were keeping me from dropping under a 6:30/mi run pace, and I did not want them getting worse.
It turned out to be another mistake. The last several miles I slowed considerably from the lack of nutrition, and of course, still had to battle side stitches. Still though, at least I wasn't hot and extremely dehydrated. In fact, with temps under 90 and plenty of ice and cold spongues it felt almost cool at times. I was likely still very dehydrated at the finish, but it was nothing like my experience two weeks ago. Overall, it was a solid race that taught me yet another lesson about race nutrition and ended with a very positive 2nd in age group placement and a PR of 4:36:01 (not bad considering the long swim and rough roads).
Still though, like always, for more than an hour after the race was over, the pain was almost as bad as it had been during the last few miles of the race. Fairly normal for me after a race of this distance. But, how the heck was I going to get up and race again tomorrow!?
Thursday, September 27, 2012
World Championship 70.3
After more than 9 months of training full-time, the day was finally here. The day I would race the best from all over the world at the half-Ironman distance. A day I would learn something more about the importance of not quitting. Never giving up.
Two miles into the run course I knew I had messed up. I had severely underestimated the heat. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to run through every aid station. I knew that soon I might not be running much at all. I had tried to go to the bathroom. Nothing could come out. I was already past the point of no return on the hydration scale. It was going to be a long day.
A week earlier, when I first arrived in Las Vegas, it was hot. Though it had gotten over 100 degrees Farenheit several times over the summer in Boulder, it had cooled off some recently and I had forgotten how hot it could be. But more than that, the heat felt more intense here. The air felt much warmer. And I couldn't just wait for cool morning or night temperatures to run in it. Particularly if I was to be racing in it right in the middle of the day.
The good news is my fitness was good. Very good. I had overdone things quite a bit three weeks ago with my last big training week, but now I was finally recovering and feeling strong. Very strong. After each workout, and throughout each day, I was meticulously loading up on fluids and a full spectrum of electrolytes. The heat had started to feel not so bad again. I was ready to race.
Race morning was hot. As soon as the sun could be seen, I was sweating. After setting up transition, I went to my car and hit the A/C to stay cool while I waited for my 8:00 AM start time. The last wave to go. An hour and a half behind the pros.
Waiting around to enter the water, I was sipping water. I should have been sipping more. I was already losing hydration and the race hadn't started yet.
After entering the water, it was a solid 5-10 minutes of floating around at the starting line, trying not to get kicked too hard by others as we bunched up for the last few minutes. When the gun finally went off, it was almost a relief to be in the grinder of a couple hundred elite swimmers, all vying to be out front. At most races, I end up in the chase pack of swimmers that get left behind by the much stronger lead pack. Here, it was a simply constant stream of fast swimmers with no gaps for much of the first part of the race. I was somewhere at the back.
In most races this size, you can expect to get jammed up after a few minutes with all the slower swimmers from the waves in front. This was not a problem here. Almost noone was a slow swimmer. I exited the water a couple minutes slower than expected, but everyone else in the wave seemed to be a couple minutes slow as well.
On the bike, I immediately felt good. And strong. The legs were there. But I had to do what I could to contain myself and not put out too much power in the first part of the race. Especially with it being a 20 minute climb out of the transition area before heading into the monstrous hills of Lake Mead. For the first 30 minutes, it was a struggle not to go harder. I was being constantly passed, yet I was riding around threshold or higher. I had to remind myself that this was a world championship. These guys could ride.
Once into Lake Mead, I started to get a feel for exactly how tough this course was going to be. The elevation profile is quite misleading. I was often putting out 250 watts or more in my smallest gears and spinning out on the way back down. Luckily I had done a lot of riding in the mountains over the summer and was very comfortable with climbing, particularly in the aero position.
After the turnaround, it was a tailwind most of the way back, past Lake Las Vegas and the swim start, and up into the town of Henderson for the run, close to 1000ft above the bike start. If the wind had been blowing the opposite direction, it would have been a much slower day. Around this time, it was starting to get really hot. Most of my water was going on my head in an attempt to stay cool. I was hydrating by feel like I normally do for training and racing. For this heat, it wasn't enough. Not even close. Though I went thru 4 bottles of fluids, I calculated later that only around 2 had been drunk, since each bottle had been thrown out with fluid left and a lot of it had gone on my head. My normal fluid intake for 80 degree temps is around 3-4. For this race, I probably needed at least 6.
Still, I felt good getting off the bike. It was a struggle to keep the power up around my target watts for the last hour of the bike, but only a small one. My heart rate had been relatively high all day as well so when it moved to 7-10 beats below max for that last hour, I didn't think much of it. It was only after that I realized this was a huge warning sign of my increasingly severe dehydration.
The first mile of the run felt normal for getting off of such a long, hard bike. I thought for sure that after another mile or two, I would come alive and be blazing the run course. Instead, things got bad. Very bad. And the temperature continued to increase.
With aid stations running out of ice everywhere, spongues that were barely cool, and no shade in sight, the run course became a walk course for those that hadn't properly hydrated or paced the bike. And from the looks of things, very few had.
I have never seen so many people walking on a run course of any race I've ever done. And I was right there with them on the dehydration scale. Any other race, and I might have decided the damage I was about to do to my body by continuing to run would not be worth it, and I would stop at an aid station until I could properly rehydrate to jog in or quit. But this was the world championship. There was no question, I was pushing on.
And on I went. Running from aid station to aid station, getting just enough hydration in to make it to one more aid station, until finally, I had made it thru all 13.1 miserable miles to the finish. But though it was one of my slowest runs ever, and I wasn't able to showcase the particularly good run fitness I had developed over the summer, I still moved up almost 20 spots in my age group to hit my goal of finishing in the top half. Simply, by not quitting.
Two miles into the run course I knew I had messed up. I had severely underestimated the heat. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to run through every aid station. I knew that soon I might not be running much at all. I had tried to go to the bathroom. Nothing could come out. I was already past the point of no return on the hydration scale. It was going to be a long day.
A week earlier, when I first arrived in Las Vegas, it was hot. Though it had gotten over 100 degrees Farenheit several times over the summer in Boulder, it had cooled off some recently and I had forgotten how hot it could be. But more than that, the heat felt more intense here. The air felt much warmer. And I couldn't just wait for cool morning or night temperatures to run in it. Particularly if I was to be racing in it right in the middle of the day.
The good news is my fitness was good. Very good. I had overdone things quite a bit three weeks ago with my last big training week, but now I was finally recovering and feeling strong. Very strong. After each workout, and throughout each day, I was meticulously loading up on fluids and a full spectrum of electrolytes. The heat had started to feel not so bad again. I was ready to race.
Race morning was hot. As soon as the sun could be seen, I was sweating. After setting up transition, I went to my car and hit the A/C to stay cool while I waited for my 8:00 AM start time. The last wave to go. An hour and a half behind the pros.
The sunrise over Lake Las Vegas on race morning.
Waiting around to enter the water, I was sipping water. I should have been sipping more. I was already losing hydration and the race hadn't started yet.
After entering the water, it was a solid 5-10 minutes of floating around at the starting line, trying not to get kicked too hard by others as we bunched up for the last few minutes. When the gun finally went off, it was almost a relief to be in the grinder of a couple hundred elite swimmers, all vying to be out front. At most races, I end up in the chase pack of swimmers that get left behind by the much stronger lead pack. Here, it was a simply constant stream of fast swimmers with no gaps for much of the first part of the race. I was somewhere at the back.
In most races this size, you can expect to get jammed up after a few minutes with all the slower swimmers from the waves in front. This was not a problem here. Almost noone was a slow swimmer. I exited the water a couple minutes slower than expected, but everyone else in the wave seemed to be a couple minutes slow as well.
On the bike, I immediately felt good. And strong. The legs were there. But I had to do what I could to contain myself and not put out too much power in the first part of the race. Especially with it being a 20 minute climb out of the transition area before heading into the monstrous hills of Lake Mead. For the first 30 minutes, it was a struggle not to go harder. I was being constantly passed, yet I was riding around threshold or higher. I had to remind myself that this was a world championship. These guys could ride.
Once into Lake Mead, I started to get a feel for exactly how tough this course was going to be. The elevation profile is quite misleading. I was often putting out 250 watts or more in my smallest gears and spinning out on the way back down. Luckily I had done a lot of riding in the mountains over the summer and was very comfortable with climbing, particularly in the aero position.
After the turnaround, it was a tailwind most of the way back, past Lake Las Vegas and the swim start, and up into the town of Henderson for the run, close to 1000ft above the bike start. If the wind had been blowing the opposite direction, it would have been a much slower day. Around this time, it was starting to get really hot. Most of my water was going on my head in an attempt to stay cool. I was hydrating by feel like I normally do for training and racing. For this heat, it wasn't enough. Not even close. Though I went thru 4 bottles of fluids, I calculated later that only around 2 had been drunk, since each bottle had been thrown out with fluid left and a lot of it had gone on my head. My normal fluid intake for 80 degree temps is around 3-4. For this race, I probably needed at least 6.
Still, I felt good getting off the bike. It was a struggle to keep the power up around my target watts for the last hour of the bike, but only a small one. My heart rate had been relatively high all day as well so when it moved to 7-10 beats below max for that last hour, I didn't think much of it. It was only after that I realized this was a huge warning sign of my increasingly severe dehydration.
The first mile of the run felt normal for getting off of such a long, hard bike. I thought for sure that after another mile or two, I would come alive and be blazing the run course. Instead, things got bad. Very bad. And the temperature continued to increase.
With aid stations running out of ice everywhere, spongues that were barely cool, and no shade in sight, the run course became a walk course for those that hadn't properly hydrated or paced the bike. And from the looks of things, very few had.
I have never seen so many people walking on a run course of any race I've ever done. And I was right there with them on the dehydration scale. Any other race, and I might have decided the damage I was about to do to my body by continuing to run would not be worth it, and I would stop at an aid station until I could properly rehydrate to jog in or quit. But this was the world championship. There was no question, I was pushing on.
As slow as I was running, I was glad to see that my form never broke.
And on I went. Running from aid station to aid station, getting just enough hydration in to make it to one more aid station, until finally, I had made it thru all 13.1 miserable miles to the finish. But though it was one of my slowest runs ever, and I wasn't able to showcase the particularly good run fitness I had developed over the summer, I still moved up almost 20 spots in my age group to hit my goal of finishing in the top half. Simply, by not quitting.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Mid Season Race Report: Getting My Butt Kicked in Boulder!
Coming up to race in Boulder from Oklahoma has been quite the experience! The average person here is way faster and the level of competition is extremely deep. This is where all the athletes are that bridge the enormous gap between a top Oklahoma age group athlete and the professional ranks.
6/17 Boulder 5430 Sprint Triathlon: 39th OA, 10th AG
This is the race where I first experienced what a 1000+ people at a sprint is like. I had only been at altitude for a day, and so heeded the caution I got from other athletes in making certain to be careful not too go too hard on the swim. I had been working a lot on fast starts and settling in to a comfortable pace and getting very good at it, but for this race, I went easy from the start. It worked brilliantly. It seems people here can swim much straighter (probably from many more chances to practice open water swimming), and I got a great draft all the way back in and straight as an arrow for a very solid swim split.
Next was the bike, which is a nice incline for the first several miles and then downhill after that. Not used to riding any kind of prolonged climbs, even at a low gradient, I struggled a bit to keep the pace up as high as I should have here. But once we hit the rollers, I made up time. Big time. Coming from Oklahoma, I know how to ride rolling hills well. Very well. A guy in my age group that had caught and passed me was left in my dust. Only to catch up again on the last steady incline though of course. But I hung on after that. Until the run started and he ran away. Overall, it was my fastest bike split to date though at 24.5mph for 17.2 miles. Not bad, but it needs to be much faster.
The run was where I really started to feel the altitude. Even at only 5300ft, I could tell my race pace had slowed drastically. With the tough and slow run course going over the rocky trails around the reservoir, I wasn't even able to break 20 minutes for the 5k run on this day. A solid race though for my second day at altitude.
7/8 Boulder Peak 5150 Triathlon: 90th OA, 11th AG
Now if I thought the last race was fast and competitive, this one was on even another level! When I first biked the course, I couldn't believe it. I had heard it had a good little climb in it, but I was totally unprepared for what I was about to experience. By the time I finally made it up, I thought I was going to puke! The crazy thing about this area is how many old ladies I see going up it on a routine basis! If this were in Oklahoma, no one except the more competitive road racers would ever be seen going up it by bike. And certainly no race director would ever dream of sending a triathlon up it! I was seriously daunted. No way was I going to race up this thing.
But I kept climbing it in training every chance I got. And each time it got easier and I got faster. Then the pressure came with all the guys I was training with. They were all doing it. Why not me? Ok, fine, I'm signing up!
By the time race day came, and I, once again, missed the front pack on the swim and settled in around the lead of the chase pack, I actually felt ready for it. And I was. For the first time, I got all the way up the section where it turns to 15% grade for about 2/3 of a mile WITHOUT getting out of the saddle. I was stoked! And a good thing too, because I accidentally put my dry, smooth road tire pressure in and the road where the climb was on hadn't dried out yet, which meant my tire slipped like crazy if I did try to get out of the saddle. From there on, it was all downhill, with more rollers. My specialty. And I crushed it. Enough to get a nice lead on, the same guy from the last race, who caught up big time on me on the climb and grabbed a nice gap before the rollers started. This time though, I had enough of an advantage to hold him off on the last gradual uphill section and start the run with a bit of a cushion.
However, it wasn't enough. And my running wasn't quite up to his level. He blew by me about a mile in and I couldn't hang. I stuck to my pace though, and at the turnaround, kicked it into gear to finish with my first sub-40 10k at altitude! For that slow and slightly hilly off-road run course, I was extremely pleased! With the way my run fitness is developing, I hope to soon be able to drop a 37 minute run split on a course like that and be able to hang with the likes of my new found local nemesis!
Overall, the main objective of this race was to compare myself to the top pros on a very difficult course. My goal at this point was to be within 20 minutes, and well, if you exclude the first place guy (Cameron Dye) who absolutely tore it up with an ITU level swim and by beating the old bike course record by a minute or more, I was within 21 minutes of the 2nd place pro behind him, who is also a former Olympian (Matty Reed). Close enough.
7/15 Evergreen Sprint Tri: 10th OA, 3rd AG
Finally, a smaller race like I'm used to. Only a couple hundred here, so maybe I even have a shot at the modest prize purse, right? Ha! Not in this area!
The swim was supposed to be cold. Luckily, for my sake, it wasn't. Though the race was located up in the mountains at 7000+ft, the general warm temperatures had the water temp up enough that while swimming I felt fine in my sleeveless wetsuit (coming from Oklahoma, I never thought I'd have use for a full!). Again, I hung with the front group for the first couple hundred meters or so, and then fell off the pace to lead the chase. Some guy came up on my heals on the way back so I moved over and let him through so I could jump on his instead and he led me all the way back in. Coming out of the water though, we got stuck in mud that almost felt like quick sand. There was no way to walk through it. So as he struggled I got the bright idea to try a few dolphin dives and hope I didn't hit any rocks. It worked. I flew through transition as normal and got a nice cushion to start the bike.
It wasn't enough. He caught me within a few miles, and proceeded to drop me on even the relatively flat sections. On a road bike no less! However, I was riding with power now, and from pre-riding the course a couple times the day before knew that I needed to be a bit conservative at the start.
If I thought the previous race up Olde Stage Hill in Boulder was crazy, then this was legitimately insane! 1200+ft of climbing for a 12 mile bike course! The first 7 miles climbed up into the mountains and the next 5 descended back down to the lake. It was brilliant! By far the most beautiful triathlon bike course I've ever experienced, and at close to 8000ft, by far the highest!
I paced myself well, and kept my new nemesis, who was again in my age group as well, in sight. When we hit the really steep sections towards the top, I tapped into a couple reserve bursts of power to get as much momentum as possible to start the next downhill as we got closer and closer. Finally on the last big climb, I got enough momentum started, along with my TT position to fly pass him on a sharp, blind corner that, because of my pre-ride I knew I could take flat out if I just trusted myself and stayed in it. It worked and I continued to develop a nice gap on the descent, flying past another rider along the way.
I started the run feeling a few of those power bursts, however, my legs came around quick enough. Considering that the run, like the bike, climbed like crazy for the first part. I seriously thought I should stop and start walking at the pace I was going, but my heart rate was as high as if I was sprinting! I could see my nemesis behind me, and knew if he had caught up this much already, he was bound to come flying past me any second now.
He didn't. But he did catch me and we ran side by side on the descent as I struggled to get my breathing under control. I eventually did. But when we hit a flat section again, I was left in the dust, as I again could not hold a faster run pace. I kept at it though hoping he had gone too hard to leave me behind and that I could catch him at the end as he burst, but it was not to be. We came in 2nd and 3rd in AG and with no long straights or turnarounds, never even saw another athlete on the course.
I was very pleased with my performance though, as I hit 20 flat on what was by far the toughest and slowest 5k course I've done, after the hardest bike, and at the highest altitude I've ever raced! An incredible experience along an incredible course. And even a great AG prize to boot, as I received a hand-held water bottle from Ultimate Directions to carry on long runs or trail runs with no water spots. No longer do I have to stumble through a trailer park like a zombie with an unquenchable thirst when I mistime how long I can run in extreme heat without water...
6/17 Boulder 5430 Sprint Triathlon: 39th OA, 10th AG
This is the race where I first experienced what a 1000+ people at a sprint is like. I had only been at altitude for a day, and so heeded the caution I got from other athletes in making certain to be careful not too go too hard on the swim. I had been working a lot on fast starts and settling in to a comfortable pace and getting very good at it, but for this race, I went easy from the start. It worked brilliantly. It seems people here can swim much straighter (probably from many more chances to practice open water swimming), and I got a great draft all the way back in and straight as an arrow for a very solid swim split.
Next was the bike, which is a nice incline for the first several miles and then downhill after that. Not used to riding any kind of prolonged climbs, even at a low gradient, I struggled a bit to keep the pace up as high as I should have here. But once we hit the rollers, I made up time. Big time. Coming from Oklahoma, I know how to ride rolling hills well. Very well. A guy in my age group that had caught and passed me was left in my dust. Only to catch up again on the last steady incline though of course. But I hung on after that. Until the run started and he ran away. Overall, it was my fastest bike split to date though at 24.5mph for 17.2 miles. Not bad, but it needs to be much faster.
The run was where I really started to feel the altitude. Even at only 5300ft, I could tell my race pace had slowed drastically. With the tough and slow run course going over the rocky trails around the reservoir, I wasn't even able to break 20 minutes for the 5k run on this day. A solid race though for my second day at altitude.
7/8 Boulder Peak 5150 Triathlon: 90th OA, 11th AG
Now if I thought the last race was fast and competitive, this one was on even another level! When I first biked the course, I couldn't believe it. I had heard it had a good little climb in it, but I was totally unprepared for what I was about to experience. By the time I finally made it up, I thought I was going to puke! The crazy thing about this area is how many old ladies I see going up it on a routine basis! If this were in Oklahoma, no one except the more competitive road racers would ever be seen going up it by bike. And certainly no race director would ever dream of sending a triathlon up it! I was seriously daunted. No way was I going to race up this thing.
But I kept climbing it in training every chance I got. And each time it got easier and I got faster. Then the pressure came with all the guys I was training with. They were all doing it. Why not me? Ok, fine, I'm signing up!
By the time race day came, and I, once again, missed the front pack on the swim and settled in around the lead of the chase pack, I actually felt ready for it. And I was. For the first time, I got all the way up the section where it turns to 15% grade for about 2/3 of a mile WITHOUT getting out of the saddle. I was stoked! And a good thing too, because I accidentally put my dry, smooth road tire pressure in and the road where the climb was on hadn't dried out yet, which meant my tire slipped like crazy if I did try to get out of the saddle. From there on, it was all downhill, with more rollers. My specialty. And I crushed it. Enough to get a nice lead on, the same guy from the last race, who caught up big time on me on the climb and grabbed a nice gap before the rollers started. This time though, I had enough of an advantage to hold him off on the last gradual uphill section and start the run with a bit of a cushion.
However, it wasn't enough. And my running wasn't quite up to his level. He blew by me about a mile in and I couldn't hang. I stuck to my pace though, and at the turnaround, kicked it into gear to finish with my first sub-40 10k at altitude! For that slow and slightly hilly off-road run course, I was extremely pleased! With the way my run fitness is developing, I hope to soon be able to drop a 37 minute run split on a course like that and be able to hang with the likes of my new found local nemesis!
Overall, the main objective of this race was to compare myself to the top pros on a very difficult course. My goal at this point was to be within 20 minutes, and well, if you exclude the first place guy (Cameron Dye) who absolutely tore it up with an ITU level swim and by beating the old bike course record by a minute or more, I was within 21 minutes of the 2nd place pro behind him, who is also a former Olympian (Matty Reed). Close enough.
7/15 Evergreen Sprint Tri: 10th OA, 3rd AG
Finally, a smaller race like I'm used to. Only a couple hundred here, so maybe I even have a shot at the modest prize purse, right? Ha! Not in this area!
The swim was supposed to be cold. Luckily, for my sake, it wasn't. Though the race was located up in the mountains at 7000+ft, the general warm temperatures had the water temp up enough that while swimming I felt fine in my sleeveless wetsuit (coming from Oklahoma, I never thought I'd have use for a full!). Again, I hung with the front group for the first couple hundred meters or so, and then fell off the pace to lead the chase. Some guy came up on my heals on the way back so I moved over and let him through so I could jump on his instead and he led me all the way back in. Coming out of the water though, we got stuck in mud that almost felt like quick sand. There was no way to walk through it. So as he struggled I got the bright idea to try a few dolphin dives and hope I didn't hit any rocks. It worked. I flew through transition as normal and got a nice cushion to start the bike.
It wasn't enough. He caught me within a few miles, and proceeded to drop me on even the relatively flat sections. On a road bike no less! However, I was riding with power now, and from pre-riding the course a couple times the day before knew that I needed to be a bit conservative at the start.
If I thought the previous race up Olde Stage Hill in Boulder was crazy, then this was legitimately insane! 1200+ft of climbing for a 12 mile bike course! The first 7 miles climbed up into the mountains and the next 5 descended back down to the lake. It was brilliant! By far the most beautiful triathlon bike course I've ever experienced, and at close to 8000ft, by far the highest!
I paced myself well, and kept my new nemesis, who was again in my age group as well, in sight. When we hit the really steep sections towards the top, I tapped into a couple reserve bursts of power to get as much momentum as possible to start the next downhill as we got closer and closer. Finally on the last big climb, I got enough momentum started, along with my TT position to fly pass him on a sharp, blind corner that, because of my pre-ride I knew I could take flat out if I just trusted myself and stayed in it. It worked and I continued to develop a nice gap on the descent, flying past another rider along the way.
I started the run feeling a few of those power bursts, however, my legs came around quick enough. Considering that the run, like the bike, climbed like crazy for the first part. I seriously thought I should stop and start walking at the pace I was going, but my heart rate was as high as if I was sprinting! I could see my nemesis behind me, and knew if he had caught up this much already, he was bound to come flying past me any second now.
He didn't. But he did catch me and we ran side by side on the descent as I struggled to get my breathing under control. I eventually did. But when we hit a flat section again, I was left in the dust, as I again could not hold a faster run pace. I kept at it though hoping he had gone too hard to leave me behind and that I could catch him at the end as he burst, but it was not to be. We came in 2nd and 3rd in AG and with no long straights or turnarounds, never even saw another athlete on the course.
I was very pleased with my performance though, as I hit 20 flat on what was by far the toughest and slowest 5k course I've done, after the hardest bike, and at the highest altitude I've ever raced! An incredible experience along an incredible course. And even a great AG prize to boot, as I received a hand-held water bottle from Ultimate Directions to carry on long runs or trail runs with no water spots. No longer do I have to stumble through a trailer park like a zombie with an unquenchable thirst when I mistime how long I can run in extreme heat without water...
Altitude Adjustment
I get a lot of questions about adjusting to altitude. And the answer, as answers usually are, is it depends. Typically though, it takes around 2 weeks to make the majority of the adjustments necessary and a full 4-6 weeks to completely adjust at 7500ft. Add a week for every 2000ft or so. But what does that mean for training or racing at altitude? What if I'm only there for a week?
Well if you plan on going to altitude to race, and do not have a week or two to adjust beforehand, try to do it within 24 hours is possible, and 48 at the maximum. Be prepared to maybe even feel a little sick when warming up for the race, and know that if you keep youself calm, it will pass and you will be fine.
From what I've found the 3rd day at altitude is always the worst, but for me, I feel fully adjusted by the 4th or 5th day (which doesn't necessarily mean that I am). If you have big training planned, start out relatively easy, and plan to rest on the 3rd day if possible. Save the big, hard stuff for the tail end of the trip if you can, and try to build into it.
Coming down from altitude is another concern that is often overlooked. Most people will do just fine here, but I've found I have some of the same adjustment problems coming down when I try to race very soon (feeling sick for a few minutes right before the race, for instance). Also, if you are moving down to a hot and humid climate from a dry and cool one, expect to be slower. Heat and humidity will require just as much adjustment as altitude and from my experience, can slow you down even more.
For some more technical information about adjusting and adapting to altitude, good information can be found here: http://www.sport-fitness-advisor.com/acclimatization-to-altitude.html
Well if you plan on going to altitude to race, and do not have a week or two to adjust beforehand, try to do it within 24 hours is possible, and 48 at the maximum. Be prepared to maybe even feel a little sick when warming up for the race, and know that if you keep youself calm, it will pass and you will be fine.
From what I've found the 3rd day at altitude is always the worst, but for me, I feel fully adjusted by the 4th or 5th day (which doesn't necessarily mean that I am). If you have big training planned, start out relatively easy, and plan to rest on the 3rd day if possible. Save the big, hard stuff for the tail end of the trip if you can, and try to build into it.
Coming down from altitude is another concern that is often overlooked. Most people will do just fine here, but I've found I have some of the same adjustment problems coming down when I try to race very soon (feeling sick for a few minutes right before the race, for instance). Also, if you are moving down to a hot and humid climate from a dry and cool one, expect to be slower. Heat and humidity will require just as much adjustment as altitude and from my experience, can slow you down even more.
For some more technical information about adjusting and adapting to altitude, good information can be found here: http://www.sport-fitness-advisor.com/acclimatization-to-altitude.html
Early Season Race Reports
I've done quite a bit of racing recently, so here's a recap of the highlights from my racing in Oklahoma.
4/21 Spring Fever Sprint Triathlon: 5th OA, 1st AG
Swam well with a 6:10 for a 400m snake swim, didn't have it on the bike, but ran my first sub 12 minute 2 mile off the bike. Not a bad showing for what is typically the most competitive sprint race in Oklahoma. Though local pro Jessica Meyers smoked me...
5/20 Texasman X-50 Triathlon: 28th OA, 3rd AG
First open water swim race of the year and it went terribly wrong. Went out too fast I think. Started hyperventilating and had to slow down for a bit to get things under control. From there, I had lost the front pack by a large margin, so I swam in relaxed at the front of the chase pack. Felt very strong on the bike, and was possibly putting a great race together (this is the one I had tapered for), but got a flat at mile 30. After waiting 15-20 minutes for the SAG car, I finally got my flat fixed and rode like a madman back in, where I paced my buddy, 51 year old Lee Walther in for the overall win and then jogged the second lap to a very surprising 3rd in AG finish.
5/26 Will Rogers Sprint Triathlon: 2nd OA, 1st AG
After finishing only 36 seconds down to my good friend and training partner from Tulsa, Eric McCrary, at Spring Fever a month before I decided to make this race interesting and talk up as much trash as I could stand to him about how I was going to finally beat him for the first time. This race was an almost exact copy of the previous race, except this time I was going to be tapered and ready to rock. I've finished second to him more times than I care to remember, so this was finally going to be the race where I beat him.
I didn't. He did. Got my a$$ beat by around three and a half minutes. He really showed up.
6/02-6/03 Route 66 Festivus: Sprint, 7th OA, 2nd AG; Oly, 5th OA, 2nd AG
This is the weekend where my run fitness really exploded. On the sprint the first day, I had a very good relaxed swim in the front pack, with only a couple of the faster swimmers getting away. I came into transition fresh, and was rocking the bike hard early on. At one point a guy rode up next to me on a hill and was slowing down as I was speeding up. As soon as his wheel got a centimeter past mine, he started yelling at me that I've been passed and have to drop back. Whatever man, I'm riding my own race, I'll see you later. Eventually I caught up with my buddy, Sean Stevens, who was leading the AG race, as local pro Daniel Tigert was way off the front, even out of shape. When I passed him, he made the mistake of only dropping two bike lengths back before repassing me. When I attempted to repass him, he took off in a mad sprint up the hill when I had just entered his draft zone. I couldn't pass. There was a ref sitting behind us. We both got "busted". Ridiculous? I thought so, but those are the rules. No worries, I ran my best 5k ever off the bike and almost broke 19! The penalty busted us back from 1st and 2nd to 5th and 6th, but that just made the race for the overall for both days way more interesting!
To start the second day of racing, there were now three people in front of me, and a couple right on my heels, gunning for the overall combined. I was going to need a very good, very fast day. Thing is, I already knew I had it won. Historically, I've always swam the same speed and then biked and ran faster when racing an Olympic the day after a Sprint. When I woke up, I knew this day would be no different. Good luck catching me.
And I did exactly that. As the regional championship, there were some much faster people at this race than the previous day, and they soon got away from me on the swim, leaving me pretty much all alone for most of it. I got even got an odd case of vertigo on the second lap swimming in their wake, but I got it under control and came in, once again, fresh and ready to hammer the bike.
On the bike, I once again was making power immediately and started working as hard as I could. Oddly, a couple guys came flying past me, one right on the heals of the other. I thought about legally pacing off them for a second, but knowing how strict the ref was calling it, I didn't want to accidentally wander an inch into their draft zone without passing and get busted again. So I kept them in sight, but well out of range. And, sure enough, the ref came around eventually and sat on their tail for several minutes while I watched. The one guy who was drafting ended up with a 6 minute penalty, and, of course, complained like crazy about it afterwards.
After biking about as hard as I could, I was a bit concerned about how I would be able to run. I shouldn't have been worried. My run legs have never felt fresher. I paced off one of the faster bikers that passed me for the first lap as we ran around 6:10's or so, and then decided to go for it and took off for the second lap. Unbelievably, I was able to keep it up and ran my first 37 minute 10k! Off the bike no less!
With an overall time of 2:06, this was easily fast enough to win the overall title for both days by several minutes!
Though my good friend and training partner, Eric, was the next person in front of me in the race. He had swam 4 minutes into me. And beat me by that amount overall. Someday, Eric, someday!
4/21 Spring Fever Sprint Triathlon: 5th OA, 1st AG
Swam well with a 6:10 for a 400m snake swim, didn't have it on the bike, but ran my first sub 12 minute 2 mile off the bike. Not a bad showing for what is typically the most competitive sprint race in Oklahoma. Though local pro Jessica Meyers smoked me...
5/20 Texasman X-50 Triathlon: 28th OA, 3rd AG
First open water swim race of the year and it went terribly wrong. Went out too fast I think. Started hyperventilating and had to slow down for a bit to get things under control. From there, I had lost the front pack by a large margin, so I swam in relaxed at the front of the chase pack. Felt very strong on the bike, and was possibly putting a great race together (this is the one I had tapered for), but got a flat at mile 30. After waiting 15-20 minutes for the SAG car, I finally got my flat fixed and rode like a madman back in, where I paced my buddy, 51 year old Lee Walther in for the overall win and then jogged the second lap to a very surprising 3rd in AG finish.
5/26 Will Rogers Sprint Triathlon: 2nd OA, 1st AG
After finishing only 36 seconds down to my good friend and training partner from Tulsa, Eric McCrary, at Spring Fever a month before I decided to make this race interesting and talk up as much trash as I could stand to him about how I was going to finally beat him for the first time. This race was an almost exact copy of the previous race, except this time I was going to be tapered and ready to rock. I've finished second to him more times than I care to remember, so this was finally going to be the race where I beat him.
I didn't. He did. Got my a$$ beat by around three and a half minutes. He really showed up.
6/02-6/03 Route 66 Festivus: Sprint, 7th OA, 2nd AG; Oly, 5th OA, 2nd AG
This is the weekend where my run fitness really exploded. On the sprint the first day, I had a very good relaxed swim in the front pack, with only a couple of the faster swimmers getting away. I came into transition fresh, and was rocking the bike hard early on. At one point a guy rode up next to me on a hill and was slowing down as I was speeding up. As soon as his wheel got a centimeter past mine, he started yelling at me that I've been passed and have to drop back. Whatever man, I'm riding my own race, I'll see you later. Eventually I caught up with my buddy, Sean Stevens, who was leading the AG race, as local pro Daniel Tigert was way off the front, even out of shape. When I passed him, he made the mistake of only dropping two bike lengths back before repassing me. When I attempted to repass him, he took off in a mad sprint up the hill when I had just entered his draft zone. I couldn't pass. There was a ref sitting behind us. We both got "busted". Ridiculous? I thought so, but those are the rules. No worries, I ran my best 5k ever off the bike and almost broke 19! The penalty busted us back from 1st and 2nd to 5th and 6th, but that just made the race for the overall for both days way more interesting!
To start the second day of racing, there were now three people in front of me, and a couple right on my heels, gunning for the overall combined. I was going to need a very good, very fast day. Thing is, I already knew I had it won. Historically, I've always swam the same speed and then biked and ran faster when racing an Olympic the day after a Sprint. When I woke up, I knew this day would be no different. Good luck catching me.
And I did exactly that. As the regional championship, there were some much faster people at this race than the previous day, and they soon got away from me on the swim, leaving me pretty much all alone for most of it. I got even got an odd case of vertigo on the second lap swimming in their wake, but I got it under control and came in, once again, fresh and ready to hammer the bike.
On the bike, I once again was making power immediately and started working as hard as I could. Oddly, a couple guys came flying past me, one right on the heals of the other. I thought about legally pacing off them for a second, but knowing how strict the ref was calling it, I didn't want to accidentally wander an inch into their draft zone without passing and get busted again. So I kept them in sight, but well out of range. And, sure enough, the ref came around eventually and sat on their tail for several minutes while I watched. The one guy who was drafting ended up with a 6 minute penalty, and, of course, complained like crazy about it afterwards.
After biking about as hard as I could, I was a bit concerned about how I would be able to run. I shouldn't have been worried. My run legs have never felt fresher. I paced off one of the faster bikers that passed me for the first lap as we ran around 6:10's or so, and then decided to go for it and took off for the second lap. Unbelievably, I was able to keep it up and ran my first 37 minute 10k! Off the bike no less!
With an overall time of 2:06, this was easily fast enough to win the overall title for both days by several minutes!
Though my good friend and training partner, Eric, was the next person in front of me in the race. He had swam 4 minutes into me. And beat me by that amount overall. Someday, Eric, someday!
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