Alpha Delta Pi-Athlon

April 3, 2011

300 yd swim -> 10 mi bike -> 5k run

Man, I didn't get any freakin' sleep this weekend.

I woke up about 4, getting about 5 hours in and didn't even try going back to sleep; the alarm was 30 minutes away. I very easily could have gone back under, I was tired. Regardless, I scraped together my breakfast and started chowing. I added a little honey (~1 tsp?) and a generous sprinkle of cinnamon (~1/4 tsp?) to the potatoes this time and it was GREAT. Really brought out the sweetness in them, creating what might be a poor man's sweet potato casserole to serve at Thanksgiving. I often have my race mornings when I get Spartan about my food intake and would want to skip the additives, but it's good to know I have options for a much more enjoyable experience when I don't mind the extra sugar.

Rather than dick around all morning, I spent some time airing my tires and getting my disc cover on. By the time I had everything set up and I was dressed it was pretty much time to leave. Glad to have a race where I'm not trying to kill hours on end. I get to race site about 6:15 and there are probably 2 dozen racers already set up. It's rather cold that early in the morning, but I mess around talking to people for a while as I set up. Once 7 rolled around, I was ready to start my warm up: typical run warm-up, followed by a ~30 min bike w/ 3X 60 sec accelerations to race pace. Felt great getting that in, but did take a bit more time than I would have wanted. I have to take my gel and Delta E a little quickly; I don't have time to let the Delta E settle like I like to do, but it's not terrible. I grab my swim stuff and head up to the pool. Turns out it's closer to 5 mins til race start than the 15 I thought. Once again, I don't get in much of a swim warm up, but I take solace that I can continue it on land.

The line up takes forever and they don't start on time, but eventually the first swimmer hops in and the short count up to me starts. I'm number 22, and probably 20th in.

I find my pace very quickly and have tons of room for the first hundred yards. There was a gap of something like 10 yards in front of and behind me for a while; I really had all the room I needed until approaching the halfway mark. Over the course of the swim, I run into three distinct walls of swimmers, and am held up at the wall for probably half of the 12 touches by one or more swimmers. It got fairly chaotic, and I focused on just getting through them as best I could. I didn't know what to expect for the swim and just wanted to hold pace without getting too worn out. I climb out of the water feeling like I accomplished that pretty well.

Swim: 4:35; 1:31/100 yd; 16th OA

I again kind of skirted the rules by leaving my bike stuff outside on the sun deck and dressed as I ran to my bike. It worked well in decreasing my transition time, but let me get a little ahead of myself. I hopped on my bike, punched my Garmin to start and realized I was still holding on to my cap and goggles. Well damn, what do I do with these? I slip them in my back pocket and slide my feet in my shoes. Heading out on Alumni Blvd I say out loud "let's go hunting."

T1: 1:16

I allow myself to get onto the long stretch on East Main before I really start to drop the hammer. My HR is quite high, though not as much as during Natchez Trace. It's settling in the lower 170s, sometimes getting close to 180, sometimes getting close to 165, but not really deviating much from the low 170s. That's higher than I want to see it, but just because it's higher than I can seem to hit in training doesn't mean that it's a suicide pace.

I pass a handful of cyclists and get past by a handful more over the course. I don't pay it much attention; I'm more concerned with keeping my own situation under control. I'm right around the 20 mph mark for most of the out pattern; I'd really like to see that be faster, but it is what it is. I cannot for the life of me get my HR down into typical zones, but my RPE is right on the money and my cadence is where it needs to be. I hit the halfway point and start heading back and things speed up considerably. A combination of little things makes the return trip a lot faster. I still get past once or twice, but I'm rolling along at 27 mph for much of the trip back, and it flew past.

One thing that did really piss me off was on the trip back. I past a guy pumping away on a mountain bike. He was doing rather well for himself on it, but he was blocking, so I went for a pass on the right. Rather than drop off, he accelerated into my draft zone and sat there. I kept checking my shadow and kept seeing him. He sat on my wheel something like 1.5 miles before he fell back. I didn't say anything, particularly because I was over LT and couldn't talk much, but for f*ck's sake. Do your own damn work.

I make it back to campus and start to spin it out. I'm still maintaining around 20 mph, but focusing on getting my legs ready to run. I slip back into transition and hear Denise yell out that I'm 7th off the bike... "I think..."

Bike time: 27:47; 21.6 mph; 16th OA

Per the Garmin: 27:49; 22.2 mph avg; 10.29 mi
Avg HR: 175; Avg cadence: 87
Total Ascent: 167ft; Total Descent: 161 ft

T2 goes very fast. I drop off my bike and helmet and slap on my shoes. I accidentally toss my helmet into someone else's spot and have to grab it before I run out. But I grab my 305 and my visor, turn my number around to the front and head out for the run. It's strong, stronger than it's ever been, but after Natchez Trace I'm starting to develop a healthy fear of the short course triathlon run leg.

T2: :41

The course is backwards from last year for some reason related to construction. I really do like it better this way, though, as the first mile is an out-and-back. Not only do you pass a water station at mile .2 and 1.0, but it gave me a great opportunity to check out the competition. I see Micaiah leading the pack going the opposite way; he's got a big gap in front of him and I make an assumption that he's in first place. An assumption I don't really trust.

Strung out between him and I are about 6 racers, so I have a lot of via points to shoot for. I takes a mile, but I haul in two of them before starting the campus loop. I pass about as many runners as pass me. It's the same story as the bike leg; I'm more concerned with my pace than I am with anyone else's. That said, one of the guys who past me did so at a stupid pace. He's got to be somewhere in the neighborhood of 5:15 miles, and passed me like I was standing still.

I went through the first Garmin mile in 7 flat, and about 7:10 when I pass the 1 mile marker on course. My heart rate isn't quite ramped up yet, so I pick it up to about 6:45 and try to hold that for most of the course. There's not a lot of passing being done out on course, and is getting rather lonely at times. Filling the void of racers around me, there are lots of spectators out with signs and cheers. Huge improvement. It really make the run course all that much better. I go through 2 miles in around 13:30, which I'm happy with. I start to think about picking it up a bit more, but am lacking the edge today. Not at all unexpected; I didn't have a lot of hope I'd be at 100% after racing hard yesterday. I'll take 98%.

There's a guy who flew past me at the end of the bike that I had marked early in the course. He's about 30 yards up when I start the run and seems to be running slower than I. Every time I looked up at him, he appeared to be fading. But for the f*cking life of me, I COULD NOT REEL THIS GUY IN. I haven't made up a second on him through 2.5 miles. At this point I know that the finish line is all but in sight and know the layout of the University well enough to know how we plan to get there, so I pick it up. I run a 3:15 half mile to finish the race up, and it takes everything I have to do it. My heart rate soars over 190, generous helpings of acid get poured into my veins and lungs. The moment is summed up well by a popular Phil Leggit quote. Referring to Jens Voigt pulling his team up some crazy mountain, Phil mentioned he had "climbed into his suitcase of pain." So over and over again, I acknowledged that I had climbed into my suitcase of pain, but that this race would be over in a matter of minutes and that I would have considered the race a fundamental failure if I found myself unwilling to do so.

I pull my fracturing self to within view of the finish line and almost come out of my shoes finishing the run. My inserts are slipping and sliding everywhere. I remember to zip up my tri suit before I cross the finish line, but Denise snags a picture in what I think ended up being before the zip. The half-exposed chest never ends up being flattering, but I guess I'm stuck with that one.

Run Time: 21:15; 6:51/mi; 16th OA (hmmm. Interesting pattern...)

Per the Garmin: 21:14; 6:48/mi; 3.13 mi
Avg HR: 183 bpm

Total Time: 55:33; 12th OA; 3rd in M25-29 AG

Despite having really pushed it to the max, I catch my breath pretty quickly and am more interested in hanging out than I am with wrestling away death itself. I end up wandering around for a while, talking to anyone who seemed interested. I didn't come into today's race with many expectations. I wanted to do as well as I could, to finish knowing I executed a perfect race with whatever body chose to show up today. Things could have completely imploded and it wouldn't have shocked me after yesterday. Conversely, it could have been exponentially better. I was in uncharted territory, and was happy just to put another trip into the hypothetical on the map of places traveled.

In conversation with a the guy I just couldn't seem to catch, I find out that he's a bit older and a bit overweight for his fancy. He seems rather pleased with himself he was able to hang with me. Then, he let it slip that he was a pro duathlete in his heyday, and that he raced short course duathlon FOR A LIVING!!! for a few years. He also made mention that he routinely races the short course MTB sprint race at WildFlower, and routinely places top 20 overall there (out of about 1,000 racers from all over the world). As far as I'm concerned, I was in good company.

There's not much else to say, really. I'm really excited with my performance and with the growth of the race. This race is becoming a really, really good one and it's fun to watch it grow. There are a lot of people to talk with afterwards and lots of good food to pick at. I already look forward to racing it again next year. One of my biggest goals for this weekend was to get a little sick of racing. I've raced 4 races in the last 4 weeks, and don't have many more left to do. I enjoyed every moment of it (minus the run at NT), but think I can say that I'm almost sick of it. I think I have one more left in me.

Taking all that into account, I'm all the more excited about New Orleans. I'm still not sure what to expect, but every time I assess my fitness I get good results. I'm very excited at the notion that New Orleans will be more of the same. It's taking a lot out of me this year to expect great things; Louisville really crippled my self-confidence and recovery is slow. What I most look forward to is hard evidence that I'm a better long course racer.

I sure hope I'll get just the data I'm looking for in my next case study. Time for the taper; time to visualize; time to get myself ready.

Let's do it.