Motivating the Base

Motivating the base. I’m not talking about some Palin-esque move to caputure the electorate next November. No, instead I’m referring to my body’s odd ability to somehow channel the 9,000 miles I rode in 2009 for a race that happened almost two years later. Remarkably, while the muscle memory is a bit fuzzy, it’s kind of shocking that my body retains any athletic ability whatsoever.

For some context, I’ve been on the road almost constantly since the fall of last year (first doing a promotional tour for Josh Groban’s newest record, and then following that up with the actual tour). So my life has mostly consisted of planes, TV studios, planes, rehearsal halls, planes, radio stations, planes and ice hockey arenas? Did I mention the planes? In short, it’s done wonders for my frequent flier mileage, but very little for my aerobic capacity. In fact, I’d basically assumed that – with the tour currently booked almost solid through Thanksgiving - I just wouldn’t race this year.

So, when I noticed the first of the Long Branch Tri series races would take place the day after I returned from the first leg of the tour (which, ironically, concluded at the Giant Center in Hershey) I didn’t pay much attention. Fortunately, my girlfriend managed to convince me that I should race it for ‘fun’ and just enjoy the experience without worrying about how I did. Not something I’m particularly used to, but I hoped it would motivate me to assemble my Ritchey Break-away on a few of the scant days off we get out here. (It kind of worked. I did ride in some cool places. But not very often, as we don't get very many days off...)

Cut to last Saturday I’m in a transition area 36 hours after finishing loading the truck for our last show. Not where I expected to be, but I was just glad I didn’t forget anything and managed to get the TT bike tuned, functional and fully inflated in time for the race. I don’t even think I’d been on it for about 10 months with the schedule we’d been keeping. But it was racked, my wetsuit still fit (a little more snug than last summer…) and I was back on the beach for a go at it.

Now, I’m not crazy. With all of 250 miles in my legs for 2011 I was NOT interested in anything but the sprint distance. But at least the swim has never intimidated me. And despite the short distance (and my year-long break from the pool) the rough waves in the morning seemed like they might even prove advantageous. Sure enough, the horn sounded and dozens of inlanders were immediately tossed back onto the sand by an angry sea. The locals among us faired better and it wasn’t long until we were stroking out towards the first buoy.

I’ll admit, the first half of the swim I was questioning why I’d EVER practiced swimming! After all, I felt pretty good. I didn’t have much of a lead, but I WAS in the lead. And that can’t be all down the Xterra Vendetta (though it did help…) Those hundred of miles of my youth really were paying off and all without early morning swim sessions. Is swim practice for suckers?!

And then we hit the turnaround. Wow. I was maintaining my lead, but the adrenaline wore off and my arms were left to question what I was doing to them. Apparently stacking cases and lifting consoles doesn’t do much to build swim muscle. The last half felt a little dicey. And while I hit the beach still in first, it wasn’t a completely pleasant experience. Swim practice, it turns out, is not for suckers.

After finding my bike, it WAS pleasant to learn the flying mount is completely ingrained in my muscle memory. I was off on the short (10.6 miles) bike course with no issues and was doing well for a while, even reeling in some intermediate distance stragglers. My bike fitness isn’t what it used to be, but I was holding my own. I didn’t get passed until the last third of the course, but even then it was only by two dudes. And I wasn’t even sure they were in the sprint. I assumed, but didn’t know, and just proceeded along as if I were in 3^rd.

Hit T2 and hoped for the best. The only instructions I received were ‘stay on the path.’ Not knowing if that meant stay on the boardwalk or the street, I started out following the boards…until I saw a line of cones in the street. So I jumped off the boardwalk and ran there, following a curve of cones (with a policeman directing me) over two blocks to another road. Followed the new road for about 300 yards until I got an uneasy feeling. Stopped to ask another police officer if I was on the run course, got a puzzled look and decided I wasn’t. Oh well. Headed back towards the water where I spotted another racer. He looked a bit surprised to see me running in from the other road! We ran together for a bit to the looped turnaround. Once there, he headed towards the finish line while I followed a sign with an arrow. (Guess which of us made the right turn? Here’s a hint: It wasn’t me.) Eventually got headed back in the right direction and figured it didn’t much matter, I was only here to have fun and was probably in fourth anyway.

Except I wasn’t in fourth. I finished second overall about 1:20 behind the guy I met up with on the run! Damn. The moral of the story? Train hard enough that you can get lost and still not get caught on the run! Either way, it looks like that’s the beginning, middle and end of my 2011 tri season. Hope to see more of you all in 2012!

Motivating the Base

Motivating the base. I’m not talking about some Palin-esque move to caputure the electorate next November. No, instead I’m referring to my body’s odd ability to somehow channel the 9,000 miles I rode in 2009 for a race that happened almost two years later. Remarkably, while the muscle memory is a bit fuzzy, it’s kind of shocking that my body retains any athletic ability whatsoever.

For some context, I’ve been on the road almost constantly since the fall of last year (first doing a promotional tour for Josh Groban’s newest record, and then following that up with the actual tour). So my life has mostly consisted of planes, TV studios, planes, rehearsal halls, planes, radio stations, planes and ice hockey arenas? Did I mention the planes? In short, it’s done wonders for my frequent flier mileage, but very little for my aerobic capacity. In fact, I’d basically assumed that – with the tour currently booked almost solid through Thanksgiving - I just wouldn’t race this year.

So, when I noticed the first of the Long Branch Tri series races would take place the day after I returned from the first leg of the tour (which, ironically, concluded at the Giant Center in Hershey) I didn’t pay much attention. Fortunately, my girlfriend managed to convince me that I should race it for ‘fun’ and just enjoy the experience without worrying about how I did. Not something I’m particularly used to, but I hoped it would motivate me to assemble my Ritchey Break-away on a few of the scant days off we get out here. (It kind of worked. I did ride in some cool places. But not very often, as we don't get very many days off...)

Cut to last Saturday I’m in a transition area 36 hours after finishing loading the truck for our last show. Not where I expected to be, but I was just glad I didn’t forget anything and managed to get the TT bike tuned, functional and fully inflated in time for the race. I don’t even think I’d been on it for about 10 months with the schedule we’d been keeping. But it was racked, my wetsuit still fit (a little more snug than last summer…) and I was back on the beach for a go at it.

Now, I’m not crazy. With all of 250 miles in my legs for 2011 I was NOT interested in anything but the sprint distance. But at least the swim has never intimidated me. And despite the short distance (and my year-long break from the pool) the rough waves in the morning seemed like they might even prove advantageous. Sure enough, the horn sounded and dozens of inlanders were immediately tossed back onto the sand by an angry sea. The locals among us faired better and it wasn’t long until we were stroking out towards the first buoy.

I’ll admit, the first half of the swim I was questioning why I’d EVER practiced swimming! After all, I felt pretty good. I didn’t have much of a lead, but I WAS in the lead. And that can’t be all down the Xterra Vendetta (though it did help…) Those hundred of miles of my youth really were paying off and all without early morning swim sessions. Is swim practice for suckers?!

And then we hit the turnaround. Wow. I was maintaining my lead, but the adrenaline wore off and my arms were left to question what I was doing to them. Apparently stacking cases and lifting consoles doesn’t do much to build swim muscle. The last half felt a little dicey. And while I hit the beach still in first, it wasn’t a completely pleasant experience. Swim practice, it turns out, is not for suckers.

After finding my bike, it WAS pleasant to learn the flying mount is completely ingrained in my muscle memory. I was off on the short (10.6 miles) bike course with no issues and was doing well for a while, even reeling in some intermediate distance stragglers. My bike fitness isn’t what it used to be, but I was holding my own. I didn’t get passed until the last third of the course, but even then it was only by two dudes. And I wasn’t even sure they were in the sprint. I assumed, but didn’t know, and just proceeded along as if I were in 3^rd.

Hit T2 and hoped for the best. The only instructions I received were ‘stay on the path.’ Not knowing if that meant stay on the boardwalk or the street, I started out following the boards…until I saw a line of cones in the street. So I jumped off the boardwalk and ran there, following a curve of cones (with a policeman directing me) over two blocks to another road. Followed the new road for about 300 yards until I got an uneasy feeling. Stopped to ask another police officer if I was on the run course, got a puzzled look and decided I wasn’t. Oh well. Headed back towards the water where I spotted another racer. He looked a bit surprised to see me running in from the other road! We ran together for a bit to the looped turnaround. Once there, he headed towards the finish line while I followed a sign with an arrow. (Guess which of us made the right turn? Here’s a hint: It wasn’t me.) Eventually got headed back in the right direction and figured it didn’t much matter, I was only here to have fun and was probably in fourth anyway.

Except I wasn’t in fourth. I finished second overall about 1:20 behind the guy I met up with on the run! Damn. The moral of the story? Train hard enough that you can get lost and still not get caught on the run! Either way, it looks like that’s the beginning, middle and end of my 2011 tri season. Hope to see more of you all in 2012!

Jersey Genesis Race Report

It was good to be back to my old style of ‘tri camping’ at the Jersey Genesis tri in June. Though, amazingly, this time I was roughing it even more than usual. Campground? Who needs a campground when you’ve got an empty parking lot and only a few hours before the race anyway?

Having only returned from a four day work trip in Arkansas (which had just enough time for one run in 95+ temps) just before 10:00 PM on the evening before the race, I simply packed my van and headed south towards the race venue. Fortunately, I raced here in 2008 (and did a gig nearby in 2009) so I’ve ridden the course before. Good thing, as I didn’t reach the venue until about 1:00 AM race morning…just enough time for a quick nap in the back of the car before transition opened at 5:30.

Dawn broke in a steamy mess of humidity which seems to be par for the course in NJ this summer. A winter of snow leads to a summer of moisture, it seems. Hardly ideal conditions. And with the relatively long four mile run after a short and flat 16 mile bike, it wasn’t exactly a perfect course for me...but everything is a bonus in 2010 as I wasn’t sure I’d be able to race at all with my work schedule.

I finished 3rd at this race in 2008, having started in a later wave with no idea how I stood until the end. This year our wave was off first. Better for gauging position, worse for sighting during the swim. Low sun + first wave = it might be tough to find my way. But I did have a secret weapon: XTerra swapped my Medium-sized Vendetta for a Small/Long one and the fit was much better. Even with water temperatures veering very close to the 78 degree cutoff I was quite comfy in the suit and by the first turn I was off the front of the pack.

As expected, the sun did wreak a little havoc with course detection, but I managed to muddle my way to the turnaround and from there it was a nice turn back into shore. Even managed to pass my dad who was drifting at the last buoy in his kayak as volunteer. I hit the sand first with the second place just behind me. I saw him go past as I unracked my bike but managed to snag the lead out of transition and soon found myself behind the always exciting police escort.

By the time I hit the asphalt the sun was fully beaming - even at 8:00 am - and it was promising to be a hot one, but the course and bike felt fast and I managed to hold a decent speed for the 8 miles out to the turn around. Of course, even though I managed to maintain my position around the cone, it was concerning to see that second was only about 30-40 seconds back. I’d widened the gap slightly but it would have to be bigger than that with a four mile run to come.

I increased my speed on the back half and managed to get into transition with about 45 or 50 seconds padding and the fastest bike split of the day, but as I headed out on to the run course, I saw #2 coming in and knew it would take a really hard run to maintain my position. Unfortunately, even running hard wasn’t quite enough to keep me up front and second place slipped by just after mile #1. Nothing to do from there but keep my eyes up the road and try to maintain a decent pace. However, there is nothing crueler than passing through mile 3 in a sprint and knowing the finish isn’t just around the bend like it is with a ‘normal’ 5K final leg. Add to that a relatively unshaded, straight stretch of blacktop and the race became nearly as challenging mentally as it was physically.

A quick glance back as I crossed the bridge that led to the last road and I saw that 3rd was in sight, but a few hundred meters back and with half a mile to go it seemed I would hold onto my position. I managed to cross the line in second overall, an improvement over 2008. The winner had outpaced my run by over 2 minutes, but it was still decent showing for me and I was happy, especially as - for such an affordable race – they have very decent prizes! While I didn’t get the 4-foot trophy (Yes, I’m totally serious) of the overall winner, I did get a very nice sleeveless fleece jacket, perfect for cold morning race starts (which I don’t seem to be getting many of this year…) Add in Italian ice, free pizza, cake and cookies and the day was very good indeed.

Retirement? What Retirment?

Jersey Shore Kick Off Sprint Tri Race Report

So, maybe ‘retirement’ didn’t take. At the end of last season I hung up my wetsuit, racked the race wheels and left my TT bike in its bag for almost 3 months. With the newest Groban record due out in early spring, I figured I’d be on a tour bus by now (or at least traipsing around Europe doing all the weird chat shows you do on promotional runs...) BUT, I still managed to get in rides when I could, have enjoyed running on the boardwalk (the Shore definitely beats PA here!) and even go to the pool. Well, occasionally…

However, with the album released postponed…why not try a quick little sprint tri? And so Sunday morning found me wandering through mud and muck just past sunrise in the Barnegat Bay and thinking: Here I am. Again.

Surprisingly I wasn’t all that nervous. Despite just getting my Achilles back from a bout of tendonitis and not even approaching last year’s spring training volume, I seem to have maintained a bit of fitness. Also, I wasn’t even chilly as the good folks at Xterra were kind enough to give me a great deal on a new Vendetta FULL SLEEVE wetsuit. Yup, I finally took the plunge. I’m not sure I had it snugged up quite right, as it felt a little strange and baggy around the shoulders, but it was fast enough to get me out of the water in 3^rd behind a pro who outswam me at Lums Pond last year and another guy who used to swim (much faster) against me in high school.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite used to the new wetsuit’s zipper and had an unusually sloppy transition, but I still managed to get out on the bike course just behind the leaders. At only ten miles before a 5K run, the distance hardly suited my strengths, but this season is all about fun competition, right? It didn’t take too long to ride into second place and the lead swimmer and I traded positions a few times during the bike. He’s improved! I put almost three minutes into him on the Lums Pond bike course last year, but this year only had him by about 20 seconds. Hmmm… Or maybe I’m just a little slower without a multitude of PA hills to train on?

Still we both managed to hit T2 simultaneously and my idea to put toe warmers on my cycling shoes paid off when I was able to get my shoes on just a bit faster and make it out onto the run course first. I wouldn’t hold the lead for very long, but it was nice to be out there for the first quarter mile.

Of course, as most know, my best races have always come when I’ve been able to sneak away on the bike and not be a carrot dangling off the front for the fleet-footed among us. Such was not the case on Sunday and I was soundly passed less than a mile in by two guys, dropping me to third where I remained to the finish. Still, not the worst way to start a summer. Don’t know how much I’ll be racing, but it’s nice know I’ll have at least one podium finish in 2010! Ended up with 3^rd fastest swim split, 2^nd fastest bike and, believe it or not, 6^th best run, so I guess I’ll take that…it’s almost enough to tempt a drive out to Pinchot on one of these race weekends… Keep your eyes peeled!

I am Walrus, I am the Bassman

By the time October rolls around, it’s a little chilly for racing here in the mid-Atlantic…but there was time enough to squeeze in one more before all the booties, tights and hats come out of storage and I head to my soon-to-be-home-state of NJ for another crack at the Bassman Sprint.

Despite having done the race last year, I headed down the day before anyway to ride the course and get the packet situation sorted. Fall’s late sunrises mean a very cold and dark start and I didn’t want to have to fool around with extra details the morning of. Despite a super early departue, I still managed to get lost trying to find the park entrance (everything looked different in the early morning dark!) Fortunately – as I was quietly cursing my poor sense of direction and imploring the Garmin to help me find my way - I stumbled across the road in to the park entrance. It turns out my horrific navigational skills ended up being a blessing in disguise, as entering the park from the ‘wrong’ side put me ahead of a HUGE line of cars. (This year they put both the half and sprint distance races on the same, increasing the congestion at the entrance.)

Even with having to park a few miles away from the transition area in a campsite the RD had rented out I was still way ahead of the game timing-wise. Besides, the quick ride to the race start made for a nice warm up!

Unfortunately, the traffic situation didn’t ever seem to improve and with the race scheduled to begin at 7, a lot of people were wondering if we would actually begin on time with only half the registered competitors present. There were a few announcements made, theoretically concerning the race start, but the PA was of ‘roller rink’ quality and it was tough to hear much beyond distortion. I kept waiting for the guy to announce that the next song would be a couples skate!

The other fly in the ointment was the buoy situation. The race was marked out for a half iron swim and the sprint course was supposed to incorporate some these as markers. But which ones?! It was tough to discern as the buoys were the same color and there didn’t seem to be any obvious path for us. The rumors flying around amongst chilled athletes waiting to start, however, were rampant! Eventually, around 7:40, the RD came down to announce the start and finally end the suspense with regard to the course we were to swim. It certainly wasn’t the most straightforward one, going from shore to random buoy #1, then on to random buoy #2, then back in.

We finally waded out to the start line and were off. I was grateful that the water was a touch warmer than last year, but less grateful that there were also a few faster swimmers. It didn’t take too long to get clear of the bunch, but at the first buoy I was surprised to see two guys hanging on my feet. Granted, I haven’t been swimming too much as of late, but I still hoped for a little cushion going into the bike. Made the turn and tried to spot the next correct buoy (there were three to choose from!), hoped I had the right line and headed back. Fortunately, I had chosen wisely and was soon heading back in to shore, all while trying to avoid the half iron swimmers who were starting to warm up for their swim start!

Managed to exit with the fastest swim of the day but just barely. This year, to accommodate the two races, the transition area was actually on the beach, which made for more room but also a LOT of sand. I hoped this might give me an advantage over my pursuer as the 300 yard run from the racks to the road was also through sand and definitely made faster by having my shoes already on the bike. (But also made for a long bike cleaning when I got home…)

A little half-mile driveway wound through the park before dumping us onto the main road that started the course but as we exited second place was still only about 50 yards back. Fortunately, my legs felt good and I’d ridden the course twice the day before and knew that it started with a shallow uphill grade for the first two miles before leveling off. If there was ever a place to push the pace, this was it. Hitting the bike hard was key. With the course only 14 miles long, I’d have to ride fast to put in enough time to stay away on the run.

All was going well as I approached the first big intersection where the course made a hard left to begin the long loop that comprised the bulk of the ride. And yet, as I slowed to turn, the policeman stationed there indicated I should go straight. This exchange followed:

Cop: "Straight ahead"

Me: "Are you sure? The course map says left"

Cop: "Nope, straight ahead"

Me: (In my head) "I hope so..."

As it turns out, he was correct, the course map was not. Unlike last year, this year the course ran counter clockwise. And was also two miles shorter! Information that would have been good to know pre-race! Still, kept my head down and made the best of it, hoping I didn’t lose too much time slowing down for this conversation. At the first hard turn I did manage to steal a look back and couldn’t see anyone following, but I doubted I was too far ahead.

Made the turn into the park 30 minutes later and was soon being flagged to the dismount line by a familiar face. While I was out on the course my dad had been convinced to volunteer as ‘bicycle traffic director.’ That was pretty cool, but I had other things to think about as I ran back through the sand and readied myself for a ‘lightning fast transition.’

I hooked my bike the rack, pulled on my shoes and was…wait a minute…something feels REALLY wrong in my left shoe! Pulled it off to discover a roll of electrical tape jammed into the toe! Super pro move there, Will… For all my normal attention to detail, I don’t think I’ve ever actually looked into my shoes before a race. Oh well, guess that will become a part of my pre-race routine from now on.

The run course started in a fashion that has become sadly familiar to me this summer, with me coming to an intersection shouting ‘Which way?!’ It seems this part of the course was also part of the bike out, so at the intersection there was one arrow pointing straight and another pointing left, but no indication about which was which! A few confused seconds later and I was one my down the right running path, but it seems the directional gods were really not on my side at all!

However, after all the long races this summer a 5K is no longer so daunting and I felt confident enough that I was actually put up a pretty good pace to start. With this being my last race until Clearwater and as the ‘defending champion’ from last year, I really wanted to stay at the front until the end. The nerve wracking thing about the Bassman course, though, is that it runs through campground loops, meaning that you get a very good view of how far back the other runners are about halfway through the run. As someone who still has a healthy dose of fear with regard to all foot races, this can be a bit intimidating.

Sure enough, at the turnaround, I saw that second wasn’t far back at all. Actually, 3, 4 and 5 were pretty close, too! Not much to do but keep heading down the road…as fast I could. It was nice to be cheered on by fellow competitors who were just heading out onto the run course, which a cool feature of out-and-backs. I did at least manage to resist the urge to check over my shoulder until there was a quarter mile to go and when I did I was pleased to see that there was no one on my heels. I hit the finish chute just 19 seconds ahead of second place for the overall win. Very satisfying, especially my parents had again made the early drive down to see me race.

So, that’s that. Hard to believe I’ve done 17 races this season with only one more to go. Thanks to those of who’ve been reading these epically long reports. It’s been a great summer. It’s kind of hard to believe it went as well as it did, especially when I look back to my first race at Pinchot last May, when the only thing I could think during the run was that I was NEVER doing another triathlon again.

Oops.

Nations Tri and Some Lessons Learned

“Some days are diamonds…some days are rocks.”

That’s what Tom Petty said, and it certainly applies to the Nations Tri on September 13^th. After a fantastic race last year that saw me finish 10^th overall in my first attempt at the international distance, I definitely had my sights set on moving up. Racing in a big city event, in my adopted hometown…it was the race I wanted most to do well in. So much so, that it provided the majority of my motivation. (Especially during my frigid, rain-soaked, singlespeed rides to work in DC all through January. All I could think at those moments was: No one racing here in 9 months is doing this.

With a run that had nowhere to go but up, more months in the pool and an amount of bike mileage that would have shocked the pre-2005 me, I was more than prepared for the race. And that was exactly the problem: I was more than prepared. Despite a very good season leading up to Nations, that one race had become such a focus that it was tough to keep perspective. Every creak in my bike was cause to strip it down to look for the problem. (Which actually ended up being a very good thing as it led to me discovering a severely cracked steerer tube on my TT bike.) I considered everything I ate. I worried that I wasn’t resting enough, or that I was resting too much. In short, I became a bit of a headcase, which is actually very unlike me when it comes to racing. Even in the hardest races I’m usually having a great time. Ride as fast as you want without having to worry about stop signs?! What could be better?

But this time I was racing as an elite in a race where I really wanted to do well. And I knew that I could. Unfortunately, my body and mind couldn’t quite connect and somehow it sucked all the fun out of it. It’s amazing how detrimental this can be. It’s the difference between riding on top of your gears and laboring to turn the cranks, between letting your body glide forward in the run and feeling like every footstep is carrying you shorter and shorter distances.

Of course, even the biggest case of nerves can’t completely destroy a year’s worth of work and when we hit the waters of the Potomac two decades (!) of competitive swimming took over. A few of the normal fast guys took off at the front and I settled in to a good pace that I felt would keep me close enough to the lead without letting totally frying myself 15 minutes into a two hour race.

I ended up exiting the water in 5^th with a time of 20:19. Not too bad for going the whole way without a draft. Plus the long run up to the shore made the time a little longer than it would probably have been at another race. Actually, that was a bit of a running theme at Nations. For some reason they opened the floodgates of registration this year and allowed a whopping 6,000 people into the race! This made for the largest transition area I’ve ever seen and added well over a minute to my transition times from last year.

I was excited to hit the bike though still apprehensive about it. Finding that cracked fork had left me feeling like I was riding a piece of fine china, not a bike that was meant to be pushed hard. Even though it was all in my head, it was tough to feel my usual comfort in what’s become my strongest leg, but I gave it my best shot. I passed one guy straight away and knew I was sitting in fourth. Not too shabby with 25 miles of riding ahead of us. Last year I’d come out of nowhere to have the fastest bike leg in the race by over a minute as the only person to break an hour on the 40K course. I certainly had no reason to doubt my ability to best that time this year.

As we headed out into Rockville park I caught a glimpse of one thru three at the first turnaround. I knew at least one of them and felt sure I would catch him soon. The other two, though, were looking mighty strong. Sure enough, 10 miles in I made a pass and was sitting in third on the road. I assumed that I was putting distance on the guys behind me as well and hoped I could gain enough ground to keep away from them on the run… So, imagine my surprise when I heard the telltale whump, whump, whump of a disc coming up beside me. I was getting passed.

Now, keeping in mind that I usually start in an age group wave behind any pros that happen to be racing, I think I may have been passed by three

people in an entire year of racing. One was Rick Fesler, the other two passed me at Eagleman using a rather ‘unethical’ riding configuration. (In fairness, a week later, Josh Beck would pass me at Savageman, but only because he ‘spotted’ me a little time on the swim to keep things fair ;) ) So, it was more than a little disconcerting to be passed by three dudes in quick succession, especially when I recognized one as someone that I’d easily outsplit at the Philly tri.

Of course, with our abilities being relatively similar and the course being quite flat, I was very cognizant of drafting. I’ve never done it and wasn’t going to start now. I was pleased to see a course marshal staying close by, but either way the option of sucking a wheel simply isn’t part of my MO. But I also wasn’t going to sit back and let three guys ride away. After all, if you’re in it to win it and you’re a better cyclist than runner, you’d better be prepared to make some moves on the bike.

And so for the next 12 miles there were more than a few surges. I’d pass one or two guys on the uphills only to have them take back the ground when we headed down. The constant accelerations put a lot more strain on me than last year when I never had to worry about be passed, only about how to get around the masses of people ahead of me safely. I did find it very strange that my surges never seemed to put enough distance between me and the guy with whom I was trading spots. This mystery was solved when I checked the results later and saw that he had indeed been hit with one of the few drafting penalties given out that day. Of all that didn’t go according to plan during the race, this is only part that actually irked me after a good night’s sleep. The idea that I was burning matches to accelerate for a pass after dropping back the full required length while my competitor was simply sitting in my draft before making a pass of his own has only reinforced my desire to wear one of Mike and Kara’s awesome ‘Drafters Suck’ t-shirts. If you want one, make sure you hit their website, drafterssuck.com, and let them know! Finished in 1:00:40, about a minute slower than last year, but objectively not a bad time. And we all know how easy it is to be objective in the heat of a race…

Hit the run still in 5^th or 6^th (I can’t recall which) and was soon out onto a course that was much more straightforward (but also more boring) than last year’s. I had been almost excited (if one can actually be excited to run…which I’m not sure is mentally possible) to get to the run because I knew I’d made great ‘strides’ improving over the last year. Since I fell from third to tenth in 2008 on this section by clocking nearly 48:00 minutes, I was ready to really improve my standings with what I hoped would be my first sub-40 10K. It took about half a mile to realize that was going to be tougher than I thought. I was immediately beset by cramps, something that has actually never happened to me in a race of any distance. Whether it was caused by overextending on the bike or something else, I’m not sure, but I passed through the first mile in 6:45, far slower than I usually start out and it felt like I was putting in way more effort.

As the road stretched ahead the cramps worked out and I was again visited by my friend and ‘super fan’ Diz. He was there to cheer me along the run course last year as well and had intended on racing himself in 2009. Unfortunately an injury kept him out, but his moral support on the course was very welcome! My splits eventually started to come down a bit and I was soon holding under 6:30s, but it was tough out there, with the biggest challenge being the mental realization that I was not going to hit my goal.

A few shallow but cruel hills later and I was on the homestretch with nothing left. I even let a guy pass me in the final straight as my legs simply had no speed to answer with. Of course, even feeling that badly, I finished the run in 41:09, only a few seconds slower than my best. Frustrating as it made me realize that a sub-40 would have been easily within my grasp had I been feeling better.

In the end I finished in 15^th overall and was 9^th in the elite wave. Ironically, had I raced an age-grouper I would have won the 30-34 race, but if you want to win big you’ve got to put it out there and not going elite would have been a bit of sandbag after my race last year. However, despite coming home empty-handed, I probably took away more form this race than any other in terms of lessons learned…

One, there’s a lot to be said for relaxing and enjoying the training as well as the racing. I seem to get in better shape when training is fun. I’m no pro, so when it’s not fun, time for a break. Mike H has been very instrumental in helping me believe my fitness will not up and abandon me. I’ve been a bit stubborn to come around, but eating pie and drinking beer leading up to a fantastic race at Savageman has really shown me that accumulated fitness is far more important. (Though I think I’ve maxed out resting on my swimming laurels and have been in the pool more recently!)

Two, I believe it’s important to race for the win, no matter who’s at the starting line, but that doesn’t mean failing to get the victory is the result of a bad race. Any other day my time at DC would have been a very good one, especially considering the looooong run through transition.

Three, like fitness, a proper diet is important, but much more so in the long term. For Eagleman, I did manage to race a few pounds lighter than I would normally be, but I felt fine getting down there. For Nations, I was about the same weight, but it came off a little quicker and I would have been better served eating more a few weeks out. Even on a course like Savageman I felt better with 3 extra pounds than I did at Nations. (Well, except on that damn fire trail…) All part of the learning curve there. I’m a paranoid eater having spent the better part of year losing almost 60 pounds from my post-swimming ‘fat’ days. Of course, a lot you didn’t know me back then, but I don’t want to ever go back there.

Four, it’s OK to be a little selfish leading up to a big race. Eat what you like the day before and when friends make offers, it’s OK to take them up on them. I HATE imposing on others, but my friends Meaghan and Kevin are always my DC ‘homestay’ and letting them take care of me a little bit definitely helped to relax me...well, as much as possible. For once, I should have not worried so much about asking for stuff. 360 days out of the year, you should always be the consummate houseguest, but when someone wants to help you achieve something, it’s OK to let them…and it gives you a reason to return the favor. (Like when Kevin mans up to race Savageman in 2010!) Same with my dad who was more than happy to drive me to race site hours before dawn. I can’t believe he’s still getting up to see me race after over 20 years of swim meets. If I ever have kids (which is looking doubtful due to Speedos and bike saddles) I REALLY hope they are into a nice afternoon sport…

Five, just because one race is your goal, doesn’t mean it’s going to be your best. Using Nations Tri as motivation was great, it always kept me going when maybe I didn’t want to do that extra hill repeat or swim set. But sometimes a goal race isn’t your best race. (So says the guy who chased the Georgetown backstroke recod for years only to break it in a post-meet time trial!) I think there’s a lot to be said for racing a lot and racing locally, as you never know when you’re going to have that perfect day and it may come when you’re least expecting it.

Six, always enjoy the experience. It was cool to have a two-digit number, start in the first wave and have the end bike rack. In big races I don’t often get to race in the front and it was a very different experience. Harder in some ways, easier in others, but certainly not one I will forget. I doubt I’ll look back on this race and have too many fond memories of the actual event, but I spent the weekend with friends and got to ride my bike as fast as I wanted (or could.) Racing is really a great excuse for acting like a little kid.

So, maybe not as upbeat a report as normal, but it helps to examine the good and the bad. Maybe someone else will get something from this and come back with their own good performance as a result. I hope so. Only one more report from PA to come since I’m moving home to NJ in November. I will miss the hills, I will miss the lakes and mostly I will miss all of you. Ever since finding YBR, I’ve felt like the little bee girl in the Blind Lemon ‘No Rain’ video when she finds a whole group of weirdos who are just like her… So, thanks.

Savageman Race Report

Wow. I want to get this one done quickly as I’m afraid my brain might try to purge this traumatic experience from my memory. It must happen, how else could they get people to return for this race year after year? But if you read no farther than this, simply know: SavageMan is quite possibly the best race ever. You have to do it. Seriously. You’ll hate me right around the halfway point of the ‘Killer Miller’ climb (how psyched was I to see that name?!) but this has got to be the best racing experience I ever had.

Where to begin? First of all, Deep Creek Lake is fantastically beautiful. I rented the Maryland Park System’s only Yurt, which is just off the run course in the heart of the park. Amazing. Got here Friday afternoon so had some time to explore nearby Thayerville. There’s not a lot of things to ‘do’ but that’s the point. Two cups of coffee by the lake with a book, really, could I be happier? Went out for a quick ride on Saturday morning before the race meeting/bike racking and took in the first 7 or 8 miles of the course. I’ve never ridden or driven the bike route before, so the other 48 miles would be a surprise, but at least I would know which way to turn out of the park.

Perhaps the most notable thing about bike racking was the number of times I heard “You’re riding a disc?!” I didn’t think it would be so unusual, but in the end only three of us had one. Myself, another guy and Bjorn Andersson. Ironically, Bjorn and I are both sponsored by HED (though I suspect his deal is a little better than mine) so we had a matching wheelset. But I was not to be swayed from my wheel choice, funny looks be damned!

The race itself started at a very civilized 8:30 AM. After lining up in a swim pen at 6:30 last week for Nations, this felt downright indulgent! Not to mention that the start was less than a mile of downhill walking from my Yurt. Got my stuff situated and said hi to Josh and Jan Beck and then headed down to the very clean lake for my 3^rd wave start. After years of morning swim practice I know I’ll never enjoy getting into cold water in the morning, but here the swim is the only part of the race with no hills!

The swim went well. I knew there was a relatively small field of pros and a swim prime up for grabs, but was leery of gassing myself with such a long day ahead. After a few minutes another guy and myself were pulling away from the pack and we stayed dead even until the first turn around. (A giant inflatable turtle, very hard to miss!) Coming back I just kept things long and smooth as we started passing some of the folks from the second wave and by the time we reached the second turnaround at the giant swan (Also hard to miss!) I had a little bit of a gap. At the final run in to the beach I passed a very familiar looking swimmer in a red cap that I thought might be Josh but I wasn’t sure. Of course, I knew that if it was him I’d surely see him again on the bike at some point when he passed me back!

Hit the beach in a time of 24:25, very decent, especially considering how much I’ve been shunning the pool lately! Unfortunately, Bjorn went a low 23 and knocked me into 2^nd, so no cash for me! Headed up to transition and spotted one lonely and familiar Cannondale in the pro rack, but I knew Josh would be flying along minutes behind me. Took a little extra time to put on a vest and arm warmers, though wisely ditched the gloves I’d planned on wearing. The sun ended up staying out and making the extra clothing unnecessary (and the vest wasn’t very ‘aero’ either) but I definitely didn’t want to end up shivering like I did during October’s Bassman, so I went the ‘better safe than sorry’ route. This would end up being my theme for the day!

Ahh, the bike, the part of the course that really makes this race what it is. It doesn’t take long for the road to head up and the signs to start. (They dot the entire course and are perhaps the best part of the day) There’s a short kicker climb up and then a relatively flat section to start things out...it definitely lulls you into a false sense of security. But my legs felt much improved over last week at Nation’s and I was just getting into a good groove when that lonely Cannodale came rocketing by powered by our own Josh Beck. He looked strong and determined to chase down the leaders.

Since I knew nothing about the course except that it was extremely hard and very steep, I thought it would be wise to keep things a bit on the conservative side. After all, this was only my second race of ½ Iron distance! I did pass a few people on the flat sections, but the downhills at this race are nearly as scary as the uphills. Course recon would have helped a lot as I got passed by a few guys here, but some of those turns were sharp and in the early morning light it was tough to see all the potholes!

The first 18 miles went by without incident and it was nice to cruise along the river for a bit, though I didn’t see many other riders. I think I was the ahead of most and the ones in front of me were going pretty fast. And then, Westernport, home of the notorious ‘Westernport Wall.’

I hit the stop light that marked the last level ground for 30 miles and shifted into my small ring, then said a silent prayer that I would make it up the wall…and the six miles of climbing that follow it! Grabbed a bottle of water at the bottom (just to add some weight of course) and started up what may be the toughest 6 blocks in all of triathlon. You can actually stay seated for the first three, but I was fully out of the saddle by the last two. I caught a glimpse of Jan Beck walking back down so I assumed Josh had gone through a while before. Passed one rider who was weaving up the second-to-last incline and then I was on it. Wow. The thing is steep. And if that was all, it would still be damn hard. But it’s also got a surface like an ancient cobbled road and I’m convinced a big part of getting up is luck. I had a nice rhythm going for the first 2/3 and managed to avoid all potholes, then hit a doozy and thought I was going down. How I stayed balanced I’m not sure. My rear wheel was slipping as I leaned farther forward and my front wheel still felt like it was ready to lift off the ground! Somehow I got in one good crank just as I thought I was really done for and then I was clear. Whew! My brick in the wall was secure. It was a close call but I’d made it! Of course, there’s still six miles of relentless climbing up to the continental divide, but at least I wouldn’t have a spectacular wipeout sitting on YouTube in the morning!

Just beyond the wall was a clothing drop where I ditched my vest and arm warmers. I’ll admit, I wasn’t hating the 30 second respite from pedaling, but soon I was on my way again, heading up, up, up.

One great feature of the course is the naming of the climbs, Tour de France-style. Each one starts with a sign telling you the elevation, length and average grade. The key term here is ‘average grade.’ I can easily climb 8% seated, but 8% average here usually meant 200 feet at 18% followed by 300 feet at 4%. Forget rhythm, these things are about survival! I passed a few more guys on the way up to the top of Big Savage mountain, the top of which had a sign that read ‘It’s all downhill from here (if you’re water)!’ Unfortunately they out-descended me and reached the base of ‘Killer Miller’ with about a 30 second gap.

‘Killer Miller’ is the other ‘Hors Categorie’ climb of the race, and though it looks like a passive, almost cinematic hill, it’s anything but! I rode the next 1.3 miles out of my saddle, mostly with a 34-27 gearing, and it was STILL brutal. Managed to pass about a half dozen folks here and with relatively straight descents following I didn’t get passed again on the bike for the rest of the race.

There were more, ‘smaller’ climbs along the way, and they never seemed to end, but the last few miles were relatively flat and I was actually able to assume an aero position again leading into transition. I snuck in with a time of 3 hours even, good enough to give me the 8^th fastest bike split of the day, but my quads felt like they’ve never felt before. Run a half-marathon? Suuuure….

Keeping ‘cautious’ and ‘conservative’ as my buzzwords for the day, I started my run with the goal of keeping it as restrained as possible. Not only did I not know how ‘savage’ the run might be, but I also knew I’d never run on legs this toasted before. Amazingly, I was able to keep my effort at an easy jog and still hold 7:30 miles. I was surprised how decent this felt, but I wasn’t going to question it!

About 2.5 miles in the run headed up into the campground where I was staying so I knew it would be steep, but at least it was relatively short. If figured if that was the worst uphill, it would hurt but I could survive it on the second loop. I headed back down to the main road which rolled past transition and out towards the second turnaround. It’s amazing how ‘flat’ rollers can feel after running up a 15% grade in the campground!

Of course, even though the bike course is the best known part of the race, I think it needs to be pointed out that the run is pretty damn ‘Savage,’ too! The second turnaround comes about five miles into the run, but is it on the road? Oh no. Just as you get to the bottom of a hill you’re directed to a trail that heads up a gravelly washout in the woods! The Pinchot trails have nothing on this. A lot of clearly dejected people were simply hiking up, but I somehow maintained a ‘run.’ Truth be told it was only slightly faster than a walk, but it was more about personal pride at that moment. After what feels like forever the aid station at the top finally appears. Thank God, I thought, we can head back down now. But in a devious twist, you still have to run another 50 yards to get to the actual turnaround! Just cruel…

As I neared transition I saw Bjorn and the other leaders on their second loop. Josh wasn’t with them, but I knew he couldn’t be far behind. Sure enough a few minutes later he appeared looking incredibly fast! It was very strange to see him moving so quickly past other athletes who looked like they might soon need medical attention. (And, yes, I include myself in this group!)

Came through for the end of my first loop and still felt remarkably relaxed. Just 6 ½ more miles and it would all be over. It almost didn’t seem possible. I have to say, the race is so beautiful and the crowds so enthusiastic, the whole thing seemed to go by much faster than Eagleman.

Headed out for the second bit still feeling good. Caught a glimpse of DC Mayor Adrian Fenty and tried to show him some DC love. He kind of acknowledged me, but seemed to be in his own world of pain. Poor guy probably has lots of people shouting to him all day, it must get tiresome trying to respond after a while… I still felt pretty good, but that all changed around mile 8 on my second trip up into the campground. Did this part get steeper?! The piano that had been hovering all day was starting to come down and even the downhill section back to the main road felt rough…

By mile 9 it was tough to keep my miles under 8 minutes and I was really start to look forward to getting around that final turnaround at the top of the fire road. As I headed up the rocky ascent one more time it was so tempting to walk, but I just kept telling myself I could make it for two more miles, two more miles, two more miles…

By the time I made it back down to the road I was cooked and with just a half mile to go the world started to get a little swimmy. It was an…interesting sensation. Finally, about 500 yards from the finish, I succumbed and walked for about 15 seconds. It was that or keel over. Kind of weird being that I was so close to the finish that I could literally hear it, but my body was NOT happy. After that little breather I started running again and was soon in the mercifully short finish chute. Hit the line and immediately found a spot to sit for a good 20 minutes. It was feeling unlike any I’ve felt after a race.

But I wasn’t the only one. That race takes so much out of people that my 1:46 ½ marathon was actually the 9^th fastest of the day! I’m simultaneously proud of having such a strong run relative to the rest of the field and amazed that what turned out to be an 8:07 average pace was able to place me so highly! That says an awful lot about this race…

In the end I won my age group and was the 5^th overall male finisher, 2^nd amateur with a time 5:15, so I was very happy indeed. My prize was a great SavageMan lithograph signed by Dave Scott. Definitely one of the cooler things I’ve ever gotten post-race. Josh Beck had a hell of a day, too, but that’s his story to tell, not mine.

Sorry for the length of this one, but I can’t think of a race that could come close to this one in terms of style, fear, panache, support and overall coolness. If you’re reading this you HAVE to think about doing it.

And for fun, here are some of the other cool signs spotted on the course:

Before the wall: “Welcome to Westernport, where the weak fall”

After the wall: “How’s that aero gear treating you?”

“Course Designer: Kyle Yost” followed by his phone number

“15 MPH minimum speed limit”

“For sale: triple crank. $400”

Starting up Killer Miller: “Killer Miller, ONLY 22%”

On Killer Miller: “Who is Leo Miller, and why does he hate you?”

Approaching the Killer Miller Aid Station: “EPO – 200 feet”

Mile Marker 40: “Last climb on the course” (before 6 more climbs…)

Mile 45-ish: “Make sure you save something for the run!”

And many, many more…