If you have never had the great pleasure of driving across most of the country, let me lead in my post with establishing some "heads-up" information for you in the off-chance that you do ever undertake such a journey:
Texas is gigantic.
We loaded up the Jetta (again) on Friday morning and undertook the New Orleans to Tucson portion over the next two days. Our goal was to make it to Austin, TX and spend the night in a hotel there because we've both heard so many things about Austin as a fun place to be and live. Our arrival in Austin allowed for enough time to cruise downtown a bit before grabbing some dinner on South Congress (it seems as though "THE" streets to be on in Austin are 6th and Congress). We woke up and banged out an absolutely awesome long run on the river path, which probably slots in at one of the top 3 or 5 running locations I've ever had the privilege of enjoying.
Austin skyline
The long-ish run meant a late start to our drive to Las Cruces, NM but with 9 hours to go we set off into the Texas highway life again.
For the record, I-10 through Texas is ridiculous. You enter the state on I-10 (after passing through Baton Rouge, Lafayette, and Lake Charles) and see an exit sign for "Exit 870." Knowing our interstate system means that we have 870 miles to go...on I-10. JUST in Texas. That's a pretty amazing mind f*** when you first breach the state's borders.
Score 1 for Texas.
The main thing I remember from this day (other than being afraid of running out of diesel in between fuel stops, which are relatively few and far between out in the middle of nowhere) is how much better my mileage was (keep in mind, the car is FULLY loaded and has two bikes on top; admittedly two super aero bikes, but still...) compared to the day before. This was a good thing, obviously, as it meant that if I got super low out in no man's land I could make it longer on fumes...
Our relatively late arrival in NM (although we gained another hour after crossing the border) didn't leave time for anything other than going to sleep, but we woke up in the morning to get in a quick 40 minute run out to a mountain and back. The day was noticeably hotter, but also much drier. A foreshadowing of thing to come...
The drive to Tucson itself was quick and easy, but it got hotter and hotter as the trip wore on and we got further west. By the time we got to Tucson my car's temp reading was saying "110" or thereabouts (at about 1-2pm), which is a real big number (but it's a dry heat, they said).
We showed up at the house (which, keep in mind, neither of us have seen in person or knew anything about it other than the listing) and were very pleasantly pleased to see that it was great and exactly as we hoped. For the record, online shopping can be very useful and convenient. Online shopping for a place to live, however, is a slightly riskier business ;)
So far this week it's been a steady process of settling in, straightening up, unloading, receiving packages we shipped here from home (all of my bikes have now made it, which makes me very happy), discovering the surrounding areas (so far we've had three delicious servings of local sonoran cuisine options), meeting people and being outdoors as much as possible (between the hours of 6:00am and 10:00am if at all possible giving the 100 degree plus temperatures...) to enjoy being in such an outdoors focused city!
And for a quick trip across the country, for your viewing pleasure:
The journey so far has been relatively short (less than 800 miles), taking us from Charlotte to Fort Morgan to New Orleans. Be that as it may, I have had plenty of time to reflect on a few things:
1) Why do more drivers not use cruise control? It's so useful. All I have to do is press a button and the car maintains a constant speed ALL BY ITSELF! It's truly incredible.
2) As much negative press as diesel has gotten lately with dieselgate, the engines are pretty incredible. My Jetta is weighed down and packed to the brim (smartly packed to the brim though, I have to say) AND has two bikes on top. So basically as un-aero and as heavy as a four door sedan can be and I still averaged 39 miles to the gallon from Charlotte to Fort Morgan (600+ miles). That's pretty impressive in my mind.
3) The Southeast is littered with billboards, but especially the Gulf Coast. Personal injury attorneys are near the top of Gulf Coast advertisers. At least their slogans are somewhat interesting:
It's pretty sad, however, that the reason the profession as a whole has a slightly negative tint cast on it is because of ambulance chasers like that...
4) Rain-X is incredible. Can anyone describe to me how it works? All I know is I spray that stuff on and I become mesmerized by the beads of water that scoot up my windshield.
5) I've driven through Atlanta so many times I'm scared to try and count it (en route between NC and LA, VA and LA, etc) but wow does it suck. Even with "low traffic" the sheer volume of vehicles (pronounced veee-Hickles, not veeecles, now that we're solidly in the South) makes going through the city stressful and eventful.
6) It is SO FLAT once you're south of Montgomery. Seriously. It's amazing.
I mean, LOOK AT THE ELEVATION CHANGE! It's literally 0ft.
The lack of elevation change is nice for speed, but the humidity and dew point offset that by quite a bit and turn the overall running experience (in the summer) into a bit of a...well, not a negative. But definitely something worth thinking slightly negatively about I suppose.
Let me be honest: watching a triathlon is way easier than doing one. That may or may not be news to you, but suffice it to say that the number of triathlons I've done far outweighs the number of triathlons I have spectated. That is a sub-optimal ratio.
I'll open the meat of this post by saying that the logistics of Raleigh 70.3 are a major PITA. Personally, I've done quite a few point to point races (practically every Rev3 or Challenge Race I did was P2P...I think) but none of those were as annoying as Raleigh's P2P system. The main issue with Raleigh was the tiny little swim start location, which is also where athletes need to drop off their bikes the day before. I suppose it depends on what time you went to drop-off on Saturday whether or not your traffic levels were ridiculous or "doable." The organizers tried to ameliorate this a little bit for 2016 by asking participants to choose a "time block" when they picked up their packet. Unfortunately I'd be willing to bet that a not insubstantial portion of the athletes missed this or just didn't pay attention to its parameters.
I also still remain impressed (or maybe surprised is a better description of my feelings) that athletes continue to bring bikes to races that are clearly not ready to race. Just watching people at the expo bringing bikes to get looked at and listening to the issues or problems that they are having as well as seeing and talking to the mechanics (hey, IOS Cary!) was scary in the sense of what people are bringing as "race ready." Someones tube exploded in transition while we were dropping off Christine's bike and apparently the tire was split by the explosion. Imagine being THAT athlete on race morning...! (for the record, I wouldn't worry too much about over-inflating your tubes on hot days if you just stick to reasonable/regular pressures).
Ultimately, the race was a good one to choose if you live on the east coast and you want to do a really hot half distance race with a rolling bike course and hot, exposed run course, with a historically long swim...
Do I sound like I really want to do a half? Because I don't. It looks so hard!!!
Welpers ... my first race of the year that is a full dosage of swimming, biking, and running has now come and gone with this most recent weekend. I was excited for this weekend for a variety of reasons:
1) Christine would be flying into Birgminham to give me much needed off-road triathloning advice
2) It was the first race of the year, and that always means excitement mixed with nervousness
3) A chance to prove myself against myself (from last year) and against others (this year)
So all in all a pretty solid set of motivation with which to approach a race weekend! I was looking forward to fixing some areas that were easy to improve from last year (pre race hydration, transitions, pacing) and stuff that's a little harder to gauge (technique improvement, race management). Last year Pelham was my first "big" Xterra race but I did well in the face of increased competition, winning my age group and coming in 4th amateur and 13th overall. I was ready to move up a bit, however...
I got into Birmingham on Friday morning and did a run along the first part of the bike course to familiarize myself with the "flow" of the trail after a year away from it. I chose to not pre-ride the whole course like I did last year as I didn't want that level of fatigue in my legs (it's a 1.75hr ride at a leisurely pace...) the day before the race. I also swam one lap of the course, then went and got some lunch
(as an aside, if you want a good place to watch people and encounter some of the things that makes America great you should have lunch on a weekday at a Cracker Barrel)
before heading back to the state park to pick up my packet. Once I did that, I went to the hotel and unloaded all of my crap before heading to the airport to pick up Christine. We went back to the hotel, dropped off her stuff, then worked on getting some pre race rocket fuel (ok, mellow mushroom).
Woke up bright and early race morning (but not too early, 8:20am start time ohhhhhhh yeaaaa), got ready and headed to the race site.
Set up for these races is pretty easy, the only exception being memorizing where you are in transition (nothing is really labeled or assigned, which I don't really get to be honest). I made note of which rack I was on when coming from the swim and from the bike and got suited up and ready to roll...
Warm up finished, checking out my reflection
Swim 1500m - 22:38 (12th)
I wasn't really sure if anybody from last year was returning this year as far as swim speed goes. Cole Bunn was the first out of the water last year (and won Utah amateur race as well) and I figured I couldn't swim with him. Turns out he wasn't, but I had the exact same swim scenario as last year...
I started on far left and as we made our way to the first buoy (2 loop triangular swim) I noticed three other guys swimming over to my right. I moved that way and got into 4th position about 100m before first buoy. The guy I was behind was swimming somewhat erratically, so I should've realized he was on the hairy edge. Around the buoy he lost contact with #1 and #2 and I didn't notice it right away and by the time I did there was a 10-15m gap, which I didn't feel like I could close quickly enough to be worth the effort. Nonetheless, I moved around can't-swim-straight guy and plowed into the end of the first lap.
In between laps. 1/2 on the right and 4th on the left (white caps)
Getting out and running around then jumping back in always feels kind of awful, but it does allow you to sort of hit the "reset" button. The second lap was equally uneventful except I continued to pass most of the pro women and even a pro male before exiting the water in 3rd, roughly 1 minute down on the leaders.
Done with the worst part of the day
T1 - 00:45
This was pretty quick and a nice improvement over last year. I didn't go with socks or gloves and have mountain bike shoes that have three straps (it's difficult, actually impossible, to find nice mountain bike shoes that don't have buckles or boas, so you have to go cheap for quick shoes) so that all added up to make T1 better than it was.
Bike 30k - 1:29:41 (10th)
I passed one more female pro out of transition and then got onto the road for the 1/4mi section that led to the trail head. Last year my hamstrings cramped horribly on this section, which has bewildered me since that point, so I eased up a bit on the effort level this time before hitting the trails.
Trails at Oak Mountain are awesome. Twisty, technical singletrack with lots of roots and a few big rock sections. They really are fun, and the course is definitely a "mountain biker's course" and not a "triathlete's course" (a triathlete course just requires fitness, not skill). I was hoping that my focus on trail riding over the past months would help me out and luckily it definitely did. I was much smoother through the first half of the bike course than I felt like I was last year, but this was also partially helped by the fact that there were fewer people on the course in front of me.
I passed one of the two lead swimmers pretty quickly and asked if he and the other guy had been together the whole swim, to which he replied that indeed they had, so I knew that #1 was somewhere not TOO far ahead. On trails like these someone could be less than 1-2 minutes ahead of you on time but you would NEVER know because you might never actually see them...
I made it to the long climb which would take us to the halfway point and still hadn't seen anyone ahead or behind but then ended up catching the lead female about 5 minutes into the climb and having the pro male I passed in the swim come by me at around the same time. I kept climbing at a steady effort (there are one or two sections that are granny gear rocky hard all out sections but luckily they are short) and towards the top was caught by another guy who ended up being in my age group. I stayed with him to the top of the climb (he made up the 2 minute swim deficit in the first 40 minutes of the bike...) and over the top of the ridge. We both ended up running Bloodrock and stayed together for the rest of the bike. It took a long time to catch the lead swimmer, who ended up being Dwayne Dixon. He managed to stay with us after we both passed him for a bit but luckily before entering T2 we managed to gap him by a minute or so. Dan (Molnar) and I came into T2 together and I was hoping to put together a good run...
T2 - 00:49
This was quick. I found out the night before that my ez laces wouldn't fit through the eyelets of my trail shoes so I ended up just tying them sort of tight and putting enough body glide on to choke a ... (not sure what to put here) ... and was able to smash my feet into them without any trouble.
Run 9.8k - 40:59 (16th)
Dan in #1, me in #2
I got onto the run right behind Dan but he eased away from me slowly but surely as we got to the trail head. My right lower quad was reallyy tight and I was nervous about cramping so didn't want to push too hard, too early. The gap increased, but as we got to the dam section (flat) I felt much better and opened up my stride a bit and felt like the gap was coming back down.
Unfortunately after a mid length steep climb then a sharp downhill my right hamstring cramped up badly. I stopped to stretch it out, walked a bit, stretched again, walked/ran a bit, stretched again, then was able to get back to real running but in that time period (I traveled about 50' during that issue) Dwayne had caught and passed me. Once I was able to ease the cramping I caught back up to him and stuck on his butt through the end of lap 1. I could tell he was hurting pretty good so eased past him just after the end of the first lap.
Dwayne and myself at the end of lap 1
From that point on I tried to cruise pretty steady to keep any further cramps out of the realm of possibilities and finished up without any more issues.
The podium for overall amateur and M30-34 was the same! Tough AG!
I was definitely pleased with this race. I still have some practice to do as far as trail running goes (I don't feel I'm that good at it, basically) but other than that the small improvements I've made over the past year have panned out nicely. My swim gave up some time to Dwayne and the big group of pros but I've only been swimming twice a week (less than 8000 yards per week) so I am actually pretty pleased with that. I also give up some time on the "easy" parts of the ride. Fire road climbs are not my strength, so I need to get better at pushing threshold to threshold plus sections of climbing and then letting the downhills become my recovery period. This is tough to do in CLT as there aren't any sustained climbs on trails but luckily Tucson has quite a lot of those...
Oh wait, yes...I did say that didn't I. Yes, I am moving to Tucson, AZ with Christine in...ohhhh about two weeks. Adventure alert!
It has been a long, LONG time since I have updated this blog. In fact, this might be the longest this blog has gone without an update. I feel pretty bad about it. Not bad like "I know everyone is disappointed in me" but more bad like "I've let the streak die and I suppose it will have to start again."
Maybe not much discernible difference between those two, but let it be known that I feel mildly bad. That's the takeaway from that first paragraph.
So, what's been up?
A good question. The last REAL update I had was about Ironman Louisville, back in late October. In it I described a variety of feelings and actions and left you - the reader - with a good idea of my mental state post Ironman DNF. Or at least I think I did.
That being said, I had a ton of fitness and nothing from which to recover! Not always a bad thing I suppose (that's part of the silver linings triathlon book). Unfortunately, it was a little late in the year to do anything with that unused fitness, so I didn't do anything with it. Took some weeks off, met some new people (actually just one really), and my priorities shifted into off-season mode.
The goals for 2016 materialized: focus solely on XTERRA racing with maybe a late season 70.3 tossed into the mix to try and qualify for 2017 70.3 Worlds in Chattanooga. It would be a different winter and early season because even though I raced well enough off-road in 2016 I never was really focusing on it. I was doing well mainly as a byproduct of a high level of fitness (steady fitness) and pretty good trail riding technique.
Well, fast forward to now. My technique on trails has improved dramatically. My confidence level on trails and on handling different situations and reading the line has improved dramatically. My bike workouts have been focused on getting better at mountain biking fitness requirements (variable cadence, variable effort, high torque, etc) vs. road biking fitness requirements. I've been putting in some good, steady work and I am excited to open the season in a couple of weeks at XTERRA Oak Mountain. I'd like to do better than I did last year, where I was in the overall lead (amateurs) of the race briefly but then gave it up. There are many things I can clean up now that I have more experienced. AND, I also know the trails better than I did last year.
It all adds up to hope.
Hopefully, this will be the start of a new streak of updates that don't leave my 1000s and 1000s of readers hanging on to the last gasp of jameshaycraft.blogspot.com.
I’m going to go out on a limb
with this one. It’s going to be
polarizing, I’m not gonna lie. But keep
in mind this is simply my opinion. (of
course, it happens to be the RIGHT one)
Just kidding about what’s in
parentheses.
When I think about cycling in a
triathlon context, I ALWAYS ask myself one – very simple – question during
contemplation of products or services:
Is this going to make me faster?
(or “is this going to make my life on the bike easier”)
Although to be honest I also ask
myself if it looks really awesome and in that case I am willing to make an
exception to the aforementioned mantra.
When I say “faster” I am really only using that word because it is easier
and conveys more of what I’m trying to say. But I don’t mean that something has
to make me faster, I really just want to know if it saves me something. Does it create less drag? Does it integrate
better my bike and nutrition? Is it an aerodynamically neutral option? My goal
is to make me on the bike a more efficient package. So everything I do revolves around that
thought process.
My body on my bike (so, my “fit”)
make up 90% of the system’s aerodynamic drag while I am racing (or riding,
obviously). In many ways, my body is my
main limiter to me going “faster.” (double entendre, wow!). So physiologically
speaking, I need to train. I need to get fitter. But the other way I can get
faster is by addressing the efficiency of my position, my bike, and my
equipment and apparel choices.
Every position that is catered to
triathlon (henceforth referred to as an “aero position”) should be juggling
three separate goals:
Aerodynamic/Efficient
Comfortable/Sustainable
Powerful
A fitting should be able to
address all three of those things if your fitter has the experience,
confidence, and knowledge of how to make all three of those things happen to
you. Too often I have seen positions
that “adapt” a rider to their saddle.
There is no mention of body awareness or long-term goals and evolution
when it comes to that rider’s fit.
Setting up the contact points in a fit and following program driven
(yes, I’m talking about computerized fit systems) angle and distance
measurements is barely even half the battle.
In fact, in the wrong hands, it’s a step back in the battle against good
triathlon fittings. You can “hold” your body in numerous ways while having the
same contact points. So from a semantics
standpoint, which part is your “fit?” Is it the contact points being set up for
you? Or is it a discussion on how to hold your body and what to focus on to
engage those sorts of proprioreceptive adjustments?
Well, at Inside Out Sports it is
definitely both. It all starts at the saddle.
Finding the right saddle that properly supports your seat bones while
eliminating soft tissue pressure and allows for the proper pelvic tilt to hold
a sustainable, aerodynamic aero position can be – literally – life changing
(and this time I truly mean literally as I have had people tell me that the
right saddle was life altering). This
can open up an entirely new world of fit possibilities that many people just
don’t know exist. You CAN be
aerodynamic. You CAN be comfortable in an aerodynamic position. You CAN be
powerful AND aerodynamic. Many have always operated under the assumption that
those are mutually exclusive things.
All it takes is working with a
fitter who understands that dynamic and can relate it to you, your history, and
your future goals as far as racing is concerned. Well, that and practice. Lots and lots and lots of PRACTICE.
So, where to start? That is, without a doubt, the hardest part of writing ANYthing. For me anyway; I'm not sure if this idea holds true for other writers. But figuring out that place to start and trying to say a lot without saying a lot, implying meaning and tone, and letting the reader figure out where this is going ... well that's tough.
You can gather a little bit in that initial paragraph. James is having those "feelings" things right now. He probably has been for a while after last Sunday. It's really difficult to figure out WHY I feel the need to write a "race report" even though I did not manage to finish the race. What is there to report on? No finish line was crossed. Placings in each segment don't matter. How the swim went or the early stages of the bike, do they matter? If no finish line is crossed...what's the point?
Well, a valid line of reasoning for someone after a defeat at the hands of IM perhaps, but not for James Haycraft. Yes, I wrote about myself in a blog about myself in the 3rd person. You shall like it.
I'll start like any regular old triathloning blog: a recap of how training went leading up to the race.
Training went really, really well. I have never, EVER felt as focused on the process and the specificity that is IM training as I did this summer and early fall under David Tilbury Davis' coaching. It's difficult to describe those differences to be honest, but suffice it to say that when you are not maxing out your availability you can focus more on each individual movement and requirement as it relates to your specific goal. My goal this year was obviously singularly focused: crush Louisville. So many a weekend was spent riding 4-5 hours with as much time as possible IN the aero bars and at or above race pace. Riding in Davidson was a great analogue for riding in Louisville: constant rollers and long, uninterrupted stretches of mostly smooth rural pavement. I had great and willing people to ride with who graciously let me sit on the front most of the time (thanks Jenny, Andrew, and occasionally Causebrook!). I felt very, very prepared for the bike portion...unlike in past attempts where I rode my road bike 95% of the time in training (my OWN choice).
I wasn't running a ton of miles, relatively speaking, but I was running them really, really well. Triple run days, some double run days, and one traditional "long run" left me feeling really prepared to run 26.2 at a fairly expeditious pace. I remember feeling extremely "fit" in Cozumel back in 2013, but not really well prepared for the specifics of the race distance in particular. Maybe it was mostly mental, but even with the benefits of hindsight it's tough to say for sure.
I had some ambitious, but realistic goals. All goals are conditional however, as fitness really only gets you TO the start line. Once the race begins you have to control the process of the race and not let it control you. I can imagine Yogi Berra making some IM triathlon quote (you didn't know he was a triathlete...?) that is something like: "IM is 50% fitness, 50% mental, and 50% nutrition."
I feel fine describing my goals because, well, I was so far from hitting them (overall) that I could say almost anything and you'd have to at least pretend to believe me!
Swim - I was confident I'd swim under an hour, but beyond that I really had no idea. The state of the current, where I started, wetsuit or not, etc. That all played into it. But if the current was strong I figured maybe 50-53, if it was not there maybe 55-58, and if the river started flowing in reverse then I'd just be praying to make it to the finishing ladder...
Bike - Goal was to average around 200-210 watts AP overall, with a stronger first section (220+). I had played with Best Bike Split a little bit and I was expecting a ride of in between 4:55-5:05, give or take. I figured this would set me up to be within range of the top 3-5 off the bike.
Run - Always the big question mark, eh? Well, I felt PREPARED to run 6:35-6:45 for a while off the bike. Not the whole thing, mind you...but a decent chunk of it. I hoped a 3:00 +/- 5 minutes was in the cards.
So all in all, that would've added up to a pretty quick overall time, a huge PR, a likely Kona spot, and potentially an overall win or top 3.
So yes, ambitious. But I'm not one to blow smoke up anyone's a** and I honestly felt that those goals were within my realm of possibilities if I was able to control the PROCESS of the race.
Anyway, the plan was set. The training was done. The drive was completed. Race day prep was over. Time to put the pedal to the metal.
Zach and I walked to swim start and got in line and as the morning progressed we gradually made ourselves race morning ready. Put on the wetsuit, stuffed the backpack, got the goggles ready. The line moved steadily until the race officially started and it was ON.
Swim - 56:32 (9th M 30-34)
I managed to squeeze out a quick pee as I was running down the dock to jump into the gloriously beautiful Ohio River. Unfortunately it never departed my wetsuit so there was a bladder's worth of pee just sitting somewhere in my triathlon apparel. I hoped that somewhere within the 2.4 miles of swimming it would make its way out of my leg hole. Dare to dream..
I jumped into the water off the dock, making sure my goggles stayed on, and began swimming up the channel. There is really only one word for what this portion of the swim was like: chaos.
People were, literally, EVERYwhere. I was going all over the place to navigate through swimmers as I was swimming a decent clip faster than most that were in the water ahead of me. I had started my swim at about 7:40, so roughly 10 minutes of swimmers were ahead of me. Sighting was somewhat difficult as we were headed into the sun but the sun had yet to rise above the treeline so it wasn't as bad as it would have been had I started 20-30 minutes later.
In my head we were turning around the island that kind of separates the "river" from the "channel" but as it turned out we were going much further up the river than I had originally expected. This part was quite difficult to sight as - if I remember correctly - there was some fog or haze sitting on the river. It took me a while to find the official turn buoy but once I did I was happy to be done with about the first third of the swim.
The rest of the swim was much, much easier as now people were able to spread out and there was much less traffic in general. To be honest, I didn't "notice" a whole lot of current as I went downriver. The buoys seemed to be coming at me in a normal way but I was still kind of hoping for a fast time with the invisible current so I could brag about a huge swim PR.
Regardless of my desires, I was forced to continue the glorious act of swimming in the most polluted body of water in the United States (for 7 years running, what a superlative!!)
The further along I got on the swim course the less I had people around me. Pretty late, one guy came flying past but other than that I was pretty much swimming completely solo. I got to the swim exit to thunderous applause, but I can only assume it was general applause and not specifically meant for me.
Note that I changed the distance manually to say 2.4 miles. I wore the 220 on my wrist and it reported over 3 miles. Unlike some other race reports, I will not blame swimming "additional mileage" on my poor sighting and open water skills. My watch was underwater for more than half of the swim, which would serve to explain the distance discrepancy...
T1 - 5:25
I didn't have a fast T1, but it wasn't too bad. I put on socks, shoes, flask, gels, helmet, sunglasses...and made my way out of the tent, which wasn't too crowded at that point.
Bike - 4:30ish....
I headed out on the bike and planned to hold my watts a wee bit higher for the first hour or so. This would help get some separation from any crowds and set my legs up for the day. Get them used to the pain, so to speak. I managed to do this well and passed a good number of people all the way down River Rd. It was quite chilly even with my apparel choice. I had actually decided to wear my normal two piece tri kit UNDER a Pearl Izumi Tri Octane sleeved suit. So basically in the swim I had the PI put on halfway and in transition pulled it over and installed my arms into the sleeves for the bike. The thought was that I could simply take that off to have something a little more comfortable to run in without having to execute a full change.
But my little fingers were very cold, nonetheless.
I got to the out and back section and looked forward to seeing how far ahead the "leader" was. I had made my way to the final climb before the pace car came the other way with several guys in tow. I counted them as they passed and noted that I was in "6th" place (note I use quotation marks simply because of the fact that at Louisville you never know who is actually in the lead, it's why I feel like the lead bikers on the run were a bit silly) before arriving at the turnaround a minute or two later.
I came in a little more "hot" than I'd have liked but slowed smoothly and made the 180 degree turn looking just as pro as I normally do when wearing a big pointy red helmet, multicolored tightly fitting apparel, and blue shoes. So yea, pretty amazing.
From that point I didn't pass too many more guys until I got through LaGrange and I snapped up two at once that were riding together. I got a little lazy at this point as the course meandered through the farms and remembered the disaster that was Louisville 2010 when I went past the "spot."
By the time we got back on the main road I had to pee really, really bad. It was actually affecting more power output and my position. In my imagination, my bladder was so big that if I rolled my hips forward properly it looked like you were squeezing a balloon really, really hard. I tried many times to meditate, focus, and let fly on whatever downhills were available but was completely unsuccessful. I was embarrassed at my lack of pro status when it came to peeing on myself. The more pro you are, the better at peeing on yourself you are. That's science.
As a consequence, when I arrived at the special needs station I pulled over to use a porto. I peed, but ended up peeing a lot on myself anyway, ironically (if you've ever tried pulling a zipped up Pearl Izumi Octane suit down enough to pee, you know what I mean). I got back on the road and was MUCH more comfortable in the aero position after that blessed relief.
I focused on getting back up the road a bit after giving some time up and was back through the farm sections in no time. At this point, however, something started becoming a bit uncomfortable. By the time I got back out onto the main road it was simply becoming unbearable. It's a difficult location to describe, but it's essentially right at the point of impact from my car incident last year. In that crash, I fractured a sacral segment on the "left" side of my tailbone (my left). The connective tissue around there is collectively referred to as your "SI joint" and that's what had become...debilitating. For lack of a better word. It was incredible. I've not really experienced weakness like that before. I could not move. I couldn't go down into my aerobars because I was afraid that I would simply fall onto the bike when transitioning between those two positions. I couldn't really pedal, because the torque application required "flexing" that area, so to speak. I couldn't really stand up to pedal...
It was bad all around. I'm not sure why the sudden onset seemed to occur, but for the last 10-15 minutes I was riding my bike I wasn't even averaging 60 watts. I coasted everything I could. By the time I hit the turn off for lap 2 or, for me, going straight to the finish line in 20 miles...the whole field had passed me. I got off the bike and asked race support if I could get a ride back. I couldn't imagine "riding" another 20 miles. I didn't think I could physically do it.
You can likely imagine the disappointment that comes with a decision like that. I'm not really sure I can elaborate further with words, but suffice it to say that when you build your whole year around something and prepare exceptionally well, to have the rug pulled out from under you is very, very upsetting. Yes, I have DNF'ed other races before. Am I a quitter? Maybe in some senses I am but I did not feel that way about my day in Louisville.
I have definitely been upset about the race. As I described above, I had high expectations. I was ready to f***ing own this race. It was mine.
But, things happen. Maybe there's a reason behind it? Maybe it's a sign that I am destined for XTERRA greatness? Well, that's what I'm certainly telling myself anyway. I've definitely appreciated everyone's concern and messages of support, it means a lot to me. The community is the entire reason I got into triathlon anyway, so while I didn't have a great race I had an amazing time watching others have a great race.
Then a week later I got to see more great racing at B2B, which only served to heighten both my sense of sadness over my own race but also that shared feeling of success you get when a close friend does really well.
I just wish that had been a personal feeling at the finish line on October 17th...
Until next time, IM. (which might be never, you thankless b*tch!)
