Short answer: 1st 35-39, 3rd amateur, 16th overall.
59/5:10/3:16 = 9:32. 2010 Hawaii Qualifier. And 2nd
fastest T1 and T2 of the day. :-)
The plan since February had been to drive out to Madison,
Wisconsin on the Monday previous. I like to get into town
on Tuesday or so before to check out the course, etc., and
to have time in case anything goes wrong during travel.
As September approached, it came to my attention that Labor
day was a week earlier than I had thought. In fact, it was
the Monday before the race. So why wait until Monday to
leave? Why not use the long weekend to get to know the
course? The main reason to stay in DC was for work on
Monday, after all.
That and I was basically training through Wisconsin.
Unexpectedly, I got a Kona slot in June at the Eagleman
Half IM. So Kona replaced Wisconsin as my "A" race for the
year. If it weren't for Chris , the $1,300 entry fee
(community fund), and the fact that Wisconsin was a 2010
Kona Qualifier, I would have blown it off.
Since Wisconsin wasn't my A race, and Kona is only, what,
four weeks away? I wanted to get in a good hard 100+ ride
the weekend before. What better place to do it than on the
course in Wisconsin?
That, and Chris, my athlete, best friend, and training
partner (when I ease up, unfortunately) was more worried
than I realized about the hills on the course, so he was
also amenable to this plan.
His wife, Mary, was not as convinced of the importance of
being there for 10 days. But Chris did not win the 1998
World Championship at Diplomacy due to luck. Mary was
dassled by his negotiation skills, and we were ready to go.
Travel was good, except that work the week previous
sucked. I worked over forty hours, *without even going in
on Friday,* and left some things for my collegues to
finish. :-( Sorry Phil!
I'm sure this was not the cause of my starting to feel
sick. I was exhausted, and I felt like I was coming down
with something. In fact, I let Chris do most of 14 hour
drive. Which, for those of you know how much I like to
drive, tells you how poorly I was feeling.
I had lost an an aerobar pad off the roof rack whilst
driving the Indiana Turkpike, so we stopped at a bike shop
in Chicago on the way up. Chris & I did our last long runs
along Lake Michigan. Perfect.
Unfortunately, by the time we finished our run, it was 8pm,
and we were still 2h30 away from Madison. There was no
time to look up Chicago friends (I have a college housemate
there; Chris has NYC theatre friends; there is also a
thriving Diplomacy community in Chicago...)
Sunday we rode one of the two 42-mi/67k loops of the bike
course. I had been planning on crushing an 100mi/160k
ride, and leaving Chris in the dust, while he rode
75mi/120k. However, I felt crap. And we got slightly
lost. So we rode back to the hotel, while Chris did his
brick and I got food.
Race morning approached, everything going mostly to plan.
I had quashed my cold (or maybe fears thereof) with vitamin
C, and reading Bek Keat in an Australian Tri mag saying:
"if you don't have a bit of a sniffle, you're not tapering
properly."
We arrived at the Monona Terrace (the conference center)
*after parking on the street* because we were probably 10th
to the transition area. I know Chris hates this, while knowing
that it's an idea that has merit. He also knows it's really
about my sanity in case something goes wrong pre-race.
Something did. When I arrived in T1, I have a routine:
drop off water bottles, air in tires, pick correct bike
gear for leaving T1, shoes in pedals, zero the bike
computer. I went to zero the bike computer, and it was
dead. Dead. Blank screen.
As many of you know, I am not good at pacing. Heck, I made
Chris a Janus Inspiration Station sign for the run course
that said "race like I tell you, not like I do," and this
is what I meant!
I know this is my weakness, and among the new things I
tried this year was switching to a bike computer that
measured power output at the rear wheel. What this means,
is that your computer displays not only speed, distance, heart
rate, etc., but the actual amount of effort you are putting
into turning the rear wheel. Your gearing, the hills, the
wind, the fight you had with your girlfriend before the
ride? These can all affect how fast you ride. But power
doesn't lie.
Ok, I could survive the loss of power information. In
fact, because I hadn't yet sprung for a power-measuring
race wheel, I had raced all year (but not trained) without
power.
But I had sprung for a $1,500 race wheel for Wisconsin and
Kona, because I knew it was the answer to my problems.
However, when I did that, I removed the simple
time/speed/distance computer I also used as a backup.
This could be bad.
I went to the bike mechanic tent. Mmaybe it was just a
battery, and they had one? No mechanics. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!
Now I'm freaking out. While I'm contemplating what to do,
I run into Pat Evoe; Austin Pro, mate of mine, and fellow
Jack & Adam's team member. I am trying to not freak
out nor be negative in front of Pat. (Pat is one the most
positive people I know.)
I don't want to bring him down to my level right? He's
about to race too, with more at stake than me. Pat
proceeds to tell me the story of how he had the same
problem for his first IM. "Just ride on feel. You'll be
fine."
Ahhhh!!!! I can't ride on feel!!!!! That's the
problem!!!! (I thought this, but didn't say it.)
I know he meant well, and I appreciated it. But that
cemented my decision to get out of T1 where I would freak
out, and head back to the hotel, 0h20 away. (A spare
computer was included in the $1,500 wheel, which I had had
shipped directly to the hotel.)
0h45 later, the new computer on my bike, I rushed through
the rest of my pre-race routine, and barely made the swim
start.
I had a good start. I found a reasonably emtpy place on
the front line, and didn't get mugged. However, the guy
next to me dropped me about 150m in.
So I resigned myself to another draftless-swim; reminding
myself my fastest IM swim remains my first: the 0h56 I swam
in Australia on the outside, with no feet, passing people
all morning. I'll just do it again.
The swim was uneventful. The packs were about 2-3m outside
the buoys; willing to give me the inside. Interesting.
Perfect lines, no feet. Stand up, look at watch: 0h59.
About what can be expected without having found a good
masters program (swim squad) in DC.
Skipped the wetsuit strippers, sprinted up IM Wisconsin's
famous helix (four stories of a parking garage ramp)
grabbed my bag, stripped the wetsuit myself, skipped the
chairs, threw on my helmet, and ran to my bike, where I
noticed that there was no bike computer.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Ok, time to see if Pat is right: ride on feel. What else
could I do?
But heck, I'm supposed to eat 100 calories every 30km. Not
every 18.6 mi, but every 30km. Bike courses in Madision,
Wisconsin, USA, are not marked in km! Ahhhhhhhh!
Ok, ok. Relax, and ride on feel.
I did cheat, and not completely ride on feel. There
were mile markers posted every 5 miles on the bike. But
what the heck is what the heck is 5/112th of 5 hours? Or
worse, math-wise, what's 5/112th of my real goal of 5:10?
Without a calculator? Even *with* a calculator?
Turns out, 13:23 for 5h00 and 13:50 for 5h10, but the math
I had done in my head returned "somewhere between 12:30 and
13:00," so I thought I was riding slower than I was.
Anyway. Riding along, following 2009 strategy, but with
less information. To wit:
- First 1/3, chill. "Let the Germans go." (I.e.,
anyone who passes me in the first 60k will probably beat
me anyway. Let 'em go.)
- 2nd 1/3, hang with anyone promising who happens along,
either that I catch or who catches me.
- Last 1/3, hammer, if you have anything left.
Just before 60k, a pack of three guys came around. One of
them had "Thomas," on his number, and 42 on his calf. I
re-passed him up a big hill to Mt. Horeb, and said to him
"I bet you $0.25 that you're Thomas Brunhold." (Thomas
Brunhold being the five-time M35-39 champion on this
course, but now 42.) He grunted.
Turns out, that Thomas wasn't Mr. Brunhold, because Thomas
Brunhold was on the back of that pack. :-) And the grunt
was because he was German.
It was the right time, and they weren't going too much
faster; so I figured it was the pack to join. But we were
going to have to be careful, as the pack included three
(four counting me) bicycles and one referee on a
motorcycle.
I was glad I was careful, and glad for my re-pass on the
climb to Mt. Horeb. Epecially when my German friend was
given a red card for drafting. Time to be really really
careful.
After Mt. Horeb, there is a stretch of ups-and-downs that
the Wisconsin course is famous for. And ups reduce
distances between cyclists -- drafting is defined by
distance, not time gap.
With a motorcycle in tow.
Great. I know the rules, and I follow them strictly.
However, since I was the best climber (!) in this pack, but
not by much, the consquences of this were that I'd have to
punch it to go around some of them. And it was too early
for efforts like that. :-/ But I didn't want a 4-minute
penalty, either.
So, I'm punching it to go around one of them, when the
motorcycle referee calls my number and gives me a yellow
card. What! I've never gotten a penalty in my life!
"Number 978. Yellow card. Center-line violation. Pull
over at the next Penalty Box."
Now, firstly, this is a country road with exactly zero
lines on it. No centerline, no shoulder line, no nothing.
So I'm not sure what he's talking about. But, never pays
to argue with a referee, so I don't.
I asked him what to do, he explained it was a stop-and-go.
No time penalty; just put your feet down at the penalty
tent, give them your number, and continue.
I kind of hammered for the next 5 miles to the penalty box,
hoping I'd be ahead of the pack at the box, they'd come
around me during the stop, and I could get back on.
But but alas no. The officials weren't really ready for
me. I put my feet down, shouted my number, and got back
on...but defending 1st amateur Brunhold and his friends
were gone. Damnit!
This was probably a good thing. I got back to riding by
feel. I was picking off amateurs slowly, but trying to
ride one gear easier than hammering.
There are two monster hills on the back end of the Verona
Loop of the course. A great place to watch the race if you
get a chance, and the locals know it. It was lined like a
climb in the Tour de France, narrowing, cheering, to let us
by. Fun!
The first time through this part of the course, I stayed
in the saddle; though I was nearly geared out with a 39x21.
I kept asking the spectators what place I was in; I figured
about 10th amateur or so. No one knew.
The 2nd loop was uneventful except that I caught two women
pros, riding about 50m apart. I dropped 'em actually,
which was a little shocking. Especially when the 2nd one
was Hillary Biscay, the defending champion; known as a
strong cyclist.
Biscay and Ali Fitch (an Australian pro who I don't know)
had cameras on motorcycles watching them. But they put
them down as I went by. :-) There went my chance for
stardom. (That and dropping them as opposed to hanging
around...)
I did get a chance to ask the cameramen what place they
were: cameramen usually don't spend a lot of time on pros in
higher places. But I had seen these cameramen were going
back and forth in front of me frequenly in the 20mi/35k it
took me to catch them. (They will just take some quick
stock footage of someone in, say, 10th place, in case they
run through the field.)
I was curious, therefore, about why I hadn't seen my
fast-swimming-but-not-expected-to-win friend from Austin,
Amy Marsh.
I was more shocked when I asked the cameraman what places
those women were in: he said 2nd & 3rd. That meant either
Amy was leading, and I'd see her soon; or that she was
having a bad day, and had dropped out and I didn't see her
on the side of the road.
I was hoping to see her soon.
The rest of the loop was uneventful; except for collecting
a Navy Seal and a Air Force Academy dude. I sic'd them on
each other as I went around: "you know that guy ahead is a
Navy Seal, right?" And "you're not going to let that
wing-wiper go, are you?" :-)
The second time up the major hills at the back of the
Verona loop, I was more tired, and a bit geared out. I had
to stand up a bit, instead of sitting and spinning.
Instead of asking spectators on the hill time for a
placing, (which would have been challenging giving my level
of effort), one guy asked *me* if I was an age-grouper.
I nodded and he told me I was in 3rd place amateur
overall. I found that unlikely; and told him so.
After all, I had been dropped by a pack of three with the
penalty. If he was right, and the the German with the
drafting penalty was still behind me, that meant the pack
that caught me at 60k was now for the overall age-group
lead. That there was no one else up the road. Seemed
unlikely; *someone* was sure to have swam 0h50 and ridden
decently, right?
Turns out he was right.
I normally like to wait until 160k/100mi and see what I
got. Deciding at that point whether or not to hammer it in
the rest of the way. Wisconsin is ideal for this: the bike
course is 20k out, two loops, and 20k back. So basically
when you turn back into town, you can make that decision.
(Even without a bike computer. :-))
I had nothing. Especially as in Wisconsin the wind was
blowing straight into our faces on this part.
I figured it was nutritional, as I didn't *feel* like I had
ridden very hard. So I ate all the food I had left and
grabbed two more gels, and stuffed them down.
However, USAFA, the Navy Seal, and a French Canadian guy
(turns out it was Pierre La Voie, a top age-grouper from
metro Montreal) went by me.
I let 'em go. What can I lose, 2 minutes? It's only 20k.
That knocked me back to 5th amateur, it turned out. (But I
didn't know that until later.)
Rode back into town, undid the shoes, climbed the helix
in the saddle while standing on the shoes. Entered T2
alone, to the roars of the crowd! Wow!
Now normally they have a volunteer standing by the dismount
line pointing at it, showing you were to get off your bike;
telling you to slow down. And in Ironmans, typically
another person will take your bike from you, a "catcher."
They are called catchers, I think, because if you do it
right, you step off your bike at 15mph (25km/h), start
running, and "toss" your bike toward them, by stepping off
it and letting it keep its momentum. It stays upright and
runs straight for quite a while if you do it right; but you
only need to send it a meter or two, usually.
So catchers need to be behind the mount line. Right? So
the cute blonde who was standing at line, who kept telling
me to slow down? I figured her as the dismount-line
marshall. Right?
No. She was my catcher. She tried to run with me, but I
was flying. And not towards her. She fell down
(fortunately it was carpeted), and so did my bike. I still
feel bad! I apologized, and then was on my way.
The interesting thing about IM Wisconsin is that the
transistion are *indoors*. In a conference room. Wierd,
eh?
Off on the run. Boy did I feel like crap. I felt like
everything was about to cramp up. Calves, hamstrings, abs,
hip flexors, you name it. Not cramping yet, but all on the
edge of doing so. So, I resolved to take two gatorades
(for the electrolytes) at every aid station.
I quickly reeled in two people (USAFA and La Voie) in the
first 1.5 miles. Soon, I picked off the Seal as well.
However, one reason for that was because I was running too
fast, as usual. (6:38 for 1, 6:50 for mile 2. I was
supposed to be running 7:00 or 7:15).
After that, I settled into 7:00s, and I figured I'd run
them until I couldn't, then slow down to 7:15s.
The run was a U-shaped double out-and-back. The 1st and 3rd
turnarounds were only like four blocks from the start,
making it a very spectator-friendly course. You could
watch someone leave T1, and beat them to the turnaround;
they had to run 6.5 miles, you had to walk 4 blocks!
I caught Pat Evoe at about 4.5 files, walking. He seemed
ok, but pretty despondent. I asked him to come with me,
knowing that he's a 2:55 off-the-bike marathoner. But he
said he was done. He planned to walk to the turnaround
where his parents were waiting.
Just before the first turnaround, I got my first glance of
the women's leader, Amy Marsh. I gave her a big high five,
got a big smile from her, and hoped to reel her in soon so
we could run together. She was less than a mile in front
of me, so I figured I'd catch her fairly soon; like before
the 2nd turnaround.
When I got to the first turnaround myself, it came to my
attention that two or three of the people I had run down in
the first mile were hanging with me -- La Voie and two
others. All were holding about 30 seconds back. Yikes!
No cracking for me today!
In addition, there was one guy who I didn't remember passing
passing, wearing white shorts who seemed to be coming on.
I found out later his name was Stuart Anderson.
Held 7:00-7:15 to the 2nd turnaround, and still hadn't
caught Amy. She seemed to be stubbornly holding onto a 3-4
minute lead over me. (Well, strictly a negative 6-7 minute
lead over me, because she had started 0h10 ahead of me with
the pros, but whatever. ;-))
Worse, just after the turnaround (mile 13), I got got passed
by Anderson. He wasn't going too much faster than I was;
so I toyed with hanging with him. But I decided to run my
own pace, and not worry about anyone else, and I let him
go.
I did do the old Cross-Country trick of watching his heels,
on the theory that his stride rate will pull you along...
He was gaining, but slowly. 2 miles later, I could still
see him. It was clear he was running faster than I was,
but he wasn't getting away. It was a little puzzling.
We were mixed up with people starting their first lap by this
point, so it wasn't always easy to see him. But when there
was a long straightway, the white shorts made it easy to
see where he had got to.
We're only at mile 15 or so here, so there was plenty of
time for him to crack; I was patiently awaiting that to
occur.
We turned a corner onto Walnut, and I could see the aid
station at mile 15. Anderson guy was walking the aid
stations! That's why he wasn't getting away. Brilliant.
Now a) I can walk them myself :-) with the crowds I was
not always getting the Gatorade I needed to fight the
cramps), and b) I was taking the time he was putting into
me by running 7:15s back out of him by running or
faster-walking the aid stations.
He was still in sight as we turned to go up the only hill
on the run course, at Observatory Drive. Just before the
hill, I saw him check a portapotty; someone was in it.
Then he disappeared around a corner.
I was the only one running up the hill; all the people who
I was lapping were walking. And Anderson was nowhere to be
found. He *must* have stopped for a porta-potty. (Moral:
learn to pee through your shorts, which I had done at about
mile 5. :-) Later Anderson explained that wasn't the
problem: "I was worried about becoming a You-Tube video" he
said with British reserve.)
At the third turnaround, I cheered for Amy, but she didn't
look as good. (Of course, she was still stubbornly about 2
minutes in front of me, but he looked less happy about it.
:-)) But I was running 7:45s at this point, so I wasn't
100% sure I could catch her.
I also saw Chris at this point. "I rode too fast!" he
yelled! When I got back to where he had yelled that to me,
I tried to figure out if I could catch him before the
finish. Nope: he was a good 15 minutes ahead; even if I
was running 7s, not 7:45s, it was too much of a gap.
There is little out-and-back section on Campus at 22.5 or
so, and as I appoached that, I could see the lead
motorcycle stopped waiting for Amy. I was going to get her
soon. Turn around, and I see two guys still right on my
heels: one Anderson, and another who had been there the
whole time (La Voie).
Anderson yelled something at me as I passed; I didn't know
if he was taunting or cheering.
Yikes!
I didn't feel that great, but I was very happy to still
actually be *running* at 22.5. This was new ground for me;
I never been running -- as opposed to walking or doing the
Kona shuffle -- at this point in any of my marathons or
Ironmans. And I was running scared!
I caught Amy at 23, asked her how she was doing, and got a
grunt in return. She was not looking good. Of course, she
had a 0h15 lead at this point, so she was in no danger.
But she didn't know that!
Mindful of a tongue lashing I'd recieved from Michelle
Deasy at a similar situation during IM Brazil, I tapped her
on the back, said "good job," and continued on my way.
I did slip and run one 8:30 mile: 24. But I ran 23-25 with
the lead motorcycle on my hip. (I didn't pass Amy with
much of a delta, so he really couldn't get away from me.)
I tried to pretend the motorcycle was for me, and not Amy.
:-)
I turned the corner at 25, waved to Chris, out for his
second loop. All you have left at this point to circle the
Wisconsin capitol building. I looked at my watch, and
realized recent 8:30 notwithstanding, that if I ran 7:30 or
so, I could get a personal IM best of 9:31:44.
I was counting down the seconds in my head as I rounded the
capitol grounds, with big crowds screaming: but just
missed. I was still at special needs, about 150m out, when
I hit 9:31:44.
Oh, well. I had had a great race. A perfectly executed
plan (57 goal vs. 59; 5h10 goal vs 5h10; 3h10 goal vs
3h16); all without my biggest crutch. And I had *run* 26
miles, not shuffled or walked. I had wanted to be first
amateur, but I hadn't missed by much.
I was pretty sure that I was the 3rd amateur across the
line, and I didn't know what age-groups the other two guys
were in, but I didn't care.
Turns out Anderson of the white shorts and I went 1-2 in
the 35-39s. I just missed catching the usual top amateur,
local stud Thomas Brunhold, but he's 42 now. Joe Kurian,
also of Madison, won the 30-34s while going 9:12. I never
saw him, and he had a great race for top amateur of the
day.
Thanks everyone for your attention if you made it this far.
Next up: IM Hawaii on October 10th!