Category Archives: Triathlon

RACE REPORT: 078 Lava Love Sprint – 1:16:24

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The Lava Love Triathlon (formerly known as Lavaman) would mark my 3rd triathlon in just over a week. It is one of my favorite races and I was really looking forward to it, especially since the weather looked optimum, unlike last weeks Rev 3 flooding!

How do you prepare for a Sprint Triathlon? A 3-legged race of course! That was Thursday night, the following morning at 4:45AM Jim, Ed (of the ‘Dad Posse’) and I left to pick up Mike (also of ‘Dad Posse’ fame) to go fishing. It was going to be another double header weekend but this time we subbed out a Tri with fishing.

Our boat left out of teh Red Bank area and we spent a gorgeous morning fishing off of Sandy Hook. We caught maybe 4 fluke, but for me, just being out on the water was relaxing. I kept thinking to myself, “If we capsized, I could totally swim over to there. Or there, or even over to there.”

I am also kind of living out of a bag the last few weeks since my apartment is being renovated so I forgot sneakers to wear on the boat. My Newton MV2 racing flats actually worked out great!

Back at Mike’s we had a few beers before setting off for Lavalette, NJ. Since we hadn’t caught any fish, we were on a mission for seafood. Were does one get their seafood fix down on the Jersey Shore? KLEINS!

Kleins rules. It sits out on the waterway where all the boats go in and out fishing so it’s a blast to watch. They also have everything you could imagine to eat, from the ocean of course. We wanted clams so we started with 2 dozen steamed cherry stones and 1 dozen cherry stones on the half shell. These were like the biggest clams I have ever seen. Almost too big. For my unnecessary main entree, I chose the blackened Mahi sandwich and it was spectacular!

Back on the road Ed suggested we stop for ice cream. Hoffman’s is a legendary home made ice cream shop a few minutes from Jim’s Grandma’s house so we simply had to go. I was now beyond stuffed.

At Granny’s, we unpacked all 4 of our bikes, geeked out on them for a little while, riding them up and down the dark neighborhood streets, had a beer and went to bed.

RACE DAY

We were all up between 4:30 and 5:30AM bright and bushy eyed. There sure are a hell of a lotta birds that love to get up early in Lavalette! Waking up multiple days in a row before 5AM has now started not to faze me which is frightening.

Granny’s house is literally on the bike course! We hopped on our rides and took the 5 minute ride over to transition. We were like a bad ass Tri-gang rolling 4 deep.

After setting up my area which took all of 3 minutes I went over to assist Mike. This was his FIRST EVER triathlon (Jim just signed him up and sent him the registration confirm) so I wanted to make sure he was good. I still remember my first tri and how my buddy Cenk walked me through all the steps. I tried to pay it back.

Down at the water we found Gio who was also racing. Together, all 5 of us entered the choppy bay and started wading out to the start buoys. The water was really nice and I was enjoying the rough waves.

The gun went off and it was total chaos. The only other worse chaotic swim has been Ironman for me. I don’t know why, maybe the mass start or the chop? It was pretty nuts though for a sprint. I have done enough of these now that getting kicked in the face or having my head dunked doesn’t really upset me. In fact, I kind of enjoy the survival aspect of it.  I did get kind of freaked out though after a quick kick when I thought to myself, “Hey, wouldn’t it be crazy if I got kicked so hard I got knocked out?” I quickly started thinking about rainbows and beer.

My swim went well. I was sighting on point and my form seemed fluid.

As I ran out of the water I was so excited to get on my bike. This is a fast course and I was ready to drop the pedal to the metal. This being the 3rd Tri in 2 weekends, my new QR Illicito is pretty broken in and I am comfortable maxing out my speed.

As usual, the first mile my legs were on fire! I started analyzing it a bit and then came up with this. In a sprint tri, when you get on the bike its similar to the start of a 5K running race, all or nothing. Hence the pain.

After passing a few folks I equalized with most of the pack and started churning the cranks building my pace. I was now having a blast! The course is 3 loops on an oval course with 2 180 degree turns. You can see who is ahead of you coming the other way which is very handy. The lead bikers were 3-5 minutes ahead of me which was a huge lead, especially since they were probably clocking 21-23 MPH. Still, I pressed on grinding those gears pushing forward, passing people here and there.

On the 3rd and final loop I passed Ed, then Mike and then saw Jim who was coming the other direction as he was ahead of me. We all did some yelling and cheering to each other, like we always do. I asked Mike how he was doing (this being his first triathlon) and responded with, “This is so awesome!”

Seeing the guys broke my train of thought and I wasn’t sure if I was on my last loop or the second loop anymore. I am REALLY glad that I opted for last loop (because it was correct) and also because otherwise I would have maybe com in last place.

This weekend I was running with my Newton MV2 racing flats (I love me some racing flats) instead of their Distancias like last weekend. These suckers are fast man let me tell you. It’s like running in slippers.

Out on the course with the bikers, I didn’t want to red line it just yet so I just shook out my legs. I didn’t have a Garmin with me as I have been trying to get in tune with my speed on my own. I have no idea if it’s working so I basically just run as fast as I can. After Mile 1 I was ready and dropped the hammer. I was steadily passing a lot of people and enjoying myself. I remember thinking how it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did last year. Maybe I am evolving as an athlete?

I had some fun chats with people as I passed. One guy yelled, “Hey, you passed me last year! Whats up?” “Nothing. How ya been?” “Good!” “Cool, have a nice race!”

One guy was really pumped for me and was screaming for me to go get after it. Yessir, I was trying.

At Mile 2.5 I finally caught up to Jim. He told me to try and catch Gio who was up ahead. A daunting task but why not?

Pressing forward I saw him just before the turnaround which meant he was 1/4 mile ahead of me. I was running 6:20’s but there was no way I was catching him.

Finishing up I felt great and cruised through at 1:16:24. Gio high fived me then we waited for Jim, Mike and Ed to come through.

Sex/
Age
Age
Place
Overall
Place
 Swim
0.4M		 T1 Bike
12.5M		 T2 Run
3.8M		 Total
Time
M34 3 28 12:58 1:37 36:34 1:02 24:11 1:16:24

We were trying to figure out if any of us had gotten podium and really could decide. It looked like maybe I was 6th or something. Before the awards, Jim and I biked off to get some coffee for the gang. Just as we returned and were passing out drinks I heard over the loudspeaker, “Christopher Baker!” I was like , “What? What did I do?” I had gotten 3rd in my age group and won a pint glass with the race name! SIDENOTE: I collect pint glasses with race names and have Ironman Arizona, Boston Marathon, and The Boilermaker to name a few. I could not have been more thrilled at this particular award!

It turns out Gio also got an award too! How cool!

After the awards we went to Granny’s and packed up, heading north to ol Manhattan once more.

It was another awesome weekend!!! Mike, congrats and welcome to the addiction known as triathlon.

 

 

 

RACE REPORT: 077 Great South Bay Triathlon – 1:11:28

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…continued from Rev3 Quassy Olympic Triathlon.

Somewhere deep in what is known as Connecticut, we find our protagonists speeding along a dark and stormy highway in a white Mercedes Benz drinking coffee. Little did they knew what lay in store for them just 30 miles ahead…

Sunshine. Lots and lots of sunshine. It was as if there was some evil curse over Quassy spewing cold rain and wind all day. Not cool.

On our way to the second triathlon of the weekend, The Great South Bay Triathlon in Islip, Long Island we stopped in a town called Croton Falls searching for food. We ended up at a place called Primavera which was a pretty high class place! Good thing we were able to shower at the hotel after the race or we might not have been admitted. Primavera (Zagat rated in fact) made some of the best spinach ravioli. Jim and I quickly feasted before moving on.

In around 2 hours we were on the southern shore of Long Island checking into the tri. This race was a bit more home grown. The funniest part was when they went to body mark me and didn’t know what to do since I had my Rev3 tattoos still on! SIDENOTE: Dear Rev3, what is in those body marking tattoos? I was using a wash cloth (with soap) and they weren’t even fading! The women thought it was really cool that we did a triathlon that morning. “Jill, look at this guy, he already has body markings!” They put my new number under my Rev3 number. It was messy, but I’m not gonna lie, I felt pretty bad ass with 2 different tri markings on me. I already had my age practically tattooed on my calm so they didn’t have to worry about that.

We met Ed at his boat slip (Yes, Ed has a boat) and while waiting for him attempted to dry off our wet everything. Seriously, everything in our bags was wet from the race.

I dubbed this moment ‘Triathlete Refugee Camp.’

As we blasted across the sound Ed had noted that there were white caps. They were no joke! If you weren’t holding onto something, you were in the soup. Did I mention we were drinking beers on the boat?

Arriving in Ocean Bay Park a mere 20 minutes after setting sail, we checked into our rooms at the Fire Island Hotel. Ed owns it so he didn’t check in. He was launching the new website that night (fireislandhotel.com) along with a series of new renovations and a music series so there was a party going on. Live music and a wine tasting from Barefoot Wines along with some sensational apps. It was pretty awesome!

Not to promo Ed’s place too much, but any of you city folk that haven’t gone out to the Fire Island Hotel for a weekend are missing out. It has a Margaritaville vibe, with a classy new look. From Manhattan you could be there using only public transportation in and hour and a half.

We had a really nice dinner at the Hotel’s restaurant. We all basically had these amazing fish tacos. Thank god all of us were exhausted because it meant we could sleep early! I think we went to bed at 9:45 which was desperately needed after the full day of racing and traveling.

RACE DAY

Once again I woke up at 3AM and was tossing and turning until 5. Maybe I had too much sleep? Probably not.

The Hotel was quiet and peaceful. Jim and I met Ed at his house and then set off towards the boat. Aside from getting to drive by the swim course on a boat (way cool) we also go to see the sunrise across the sound.

Arriving at Transition I felt very sleepy. I was yawning and basically non-energetic. I was BIB 15 so my spot was right up front which was a first. I made friends with my neighbor Tosin (also a New Yorker who works in my hood actually) and we went down to the water together.

It was hot, it was sunny, the water was gorgeous. I loved all of it. It was like waking out of some triathlon nightmare. That nightmare was cold and rainy Quassy the day before! This was like a big fluffy triathlon cloud. If only the people complaining about the chilly ocean water knew what we endured. Maybe they did because I had a hug SEG on my face and was splashing around like a penguin.

I was in Wave 1 and we set off right on time. Unlike yesterday, I just put my head down and dug in hard. I was actually swimming over people for once! It was a triangular course and my sighting was dead on, until the end.

Everything was going so great, I was making smooth progress, hitting the buoys, and having a lot of fun. Then as we rounded the last buoy to head to shore I had nothing to aim at but the beach. I overshot the pier boundary and found myself making friends with kayakers telling me to, “Swim left!” Not nearly as scarey as the Alcatraz miscalculating, but still annoying since I lost some time.

On dry land once again I bolted to T1 with a fury. I bounded onto ‘The Morrighan’ and took off. Now that the back wheel was no longer rubbing against the frame it sliced silently through the course!

To give you a not so Apple-to-Apples example of how the wheel affected me… Rev3 = 16 MPH, GSB = 22 MPH

The course was really winding and very fun. My strategy was to ride as hard as I could. I didn’t get passed too much at all on the bike. In the beginning 2 guys in the most serious bike outfits for a local race overtook me. Like, it may as well have been Kona, disc wheels and all. For the bulk of the ride I rode neck and neck with is guy going my pace. Every time I went to pass him he sped up. That was until out of nowhere, Jim comes flying by yelling, “Heeeeey Baker!” I laughed out loud and yelled, “Wait up!” I shot my gears down and really cranked it, quads burning. We only had 1-2 miles to go so I figured I could hang onto Jim as he’s a pretty fast rider.

T2 was a blur. I threw on my Newtons and took off. One thing I noticed… Pre-race I was eating these Gu Chomps because I was a little hungry. When setting up Transition I left the bag in my shoe in case I needed them on the run. Guess what was stuck onto my big toe? Correct, a GU Chomp. In my mind I was like, “F-it, it’s only 3 miles.” Maybe I would need it at Mile 2 or something? Eeeeeeew.

I saw Tosin up ahead and he instructed me to chase down the 19 year old that had passed him. Aye aye.

I was running pretty hard but was feeling the fatigue from yesterday’s Olympic set in. Finally, at like Mile 2.5 I passed the 19 year old. Do you know what he said as I ran by? “I will let you go since you aren’t in my age group.” Oh to be young.

I saw DiGangi and his cousin Sal, then as I was finishing I saw Ed coming in on the bike!

I finished in 1:11:28 which is actually a PR by 2 minutes or something. I’ll take it.

Sex/
Age
Age
Place
Overall
Place
 Swim
750M		 T1 Bike
11M		 T2 Run
3.1M		 Total
Time
M34 6 54 19:52 1:12 30:17 0:55 19:12 1:11:28

After Jim finished, we went up to cheer Ed on. Turns out we are standing right next to Boomer Esiason! Small world.

Ed came in shortly after then we departed to have a victory breakfast! It was there Ed informed us of how some speedster took a turn too hot and T-boned him! Ed was bruised and cut, but the attacker went to the hospital in an ambulance.

—

What a weekend! ‘Tri Hopping!’ Even though these weren’t my best times and I didn’t place, I spent the weekend doing what I love most, racing. Sometimes you cant get too caught up in the big picture, you just need to enjoy where you are at that particular moment.

RACE REPORT: 076 Rev3 Quassy OLY – 2:59:37

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Somehow, I was talked into doing 2 triathlons in one weekend.

On Friday I left work early to meet Jim for our drive up to Quassy, Connecticut. Yes, we hit loads of stupid Friday rush hour traffic. How people do that everyday I do not know. What I do know is that if I participated I would be the most stressed out crazy person on the road and possibly wanted by the police for roadside murder.

The first thing Jim said to me as we began our trip was, “Did you bring your rain gear? I did.” No, I didn’t pack rain gear, nor did I pack anything warmer than a tee shirt. My race outfits were 2 tank tops. I was worried.

We arrived in Quassy at 7PM with 1 hour to spare before transition closed. We checked in, then listened to the race director discuss tomorrows plan as we were in for a bit of a storm. In fact, it was already pretty gloom out and I was cold. While there we bumped into Gallagher, one of our friends who we thought was racing the Half on the following day. It was great seeing him and we made plans to meet up the following day.

I had us booked at the Waterbury Marriott a few towns over so we headed there to check in before dinner. Entering our room, we were overwhelmed by it’s grandness, then I remembered I had booked the business suite! Ed was supposed to be doing this with us but had to bail, so Jim and I both had separate rooms with a kitchen, dishwasher, 2 bathrooms, the works.

After check-in we went in search of carbs! Driving towards an Italian spot I had looked up we hit a red light. Jim and I were looking at this really cool restaurant to our right before we both said, “That place looks cool!”

It was. The place was called City Hall Cafe and had a really old classic vibe going on.There was even a live band doing Neil Diamond covers! So cool.

I had lamb chops (I’m a sucker for lamb) and Jim had pork chops. It was enough food for 4 people. To get our carbs in we had a few beers.

Back at the hotel we noticed the Celtics game on in the lobby bar. I agreed we could have one more beer as long as we were in bed by 11:30AM since we had to get up at 4:45AM. Not to justify staying up because of crappy weather racing, but I was NOT looking forward to the next day’s rain.

Asleep at 12. Up at 3. Crazy thunderstorms. Asleep at 3:30. Up at 4. Asleep at 4:30. Up at 5.

Thanks Kompetitive Edge!

RACE DAY

I am addicted to the Doppler Radar. I love it so much! I spent the morning analyzing the rain patterns trying to predict when the rain would pass. It was drizzling now and looked (generally speaking) pretty crappy outside. Like, if you didn’t have to race, you would sleep in and drink coffee in your PJs until you absolutely needed to leave your apartment. We, on the other hand, were going swimming.

I ate a banana and threw on my Kompetitive Edge race kit. I was really excited because even though I had worn the red and grey KE tops in marathons this April, I hadn’t worn the full kit including the tri shorts.

In transition everyone was pretty chipper as the scene in any Rev3 race, but the rain was coming down and I was cold. As soon as I could I put on my wetsuit, a general faux pas in any normal circumstance because you get hot. Even with the wetsuit on I was cold.

Gallagher, Jim and I headed down to the beach to get some swimming in before gun time. Amazingly, the water was warmer than the air and it felt so good to get in! I felt like those arctic monkeys you see on the animal station in the hot springs with only their ice covered heads poking out! Monkeys don’t wear goggles.

We had to wait awhile back on the beach to start because one of the course buoys had blown off. We were once again freezing.

As my wave lined up at the waters edge (Wave 2) some of the guys were praying for more rain insisting that we should get it over while swimming. I hate all of these people. They prayed way too much. Stay tuned.

The gun went off and we bolted into the soup. I was hard right, second back, and pretty unfazed at the prospect of a bunch of people swimming over me. I guess Ironman mass starts with over 2500 people will numb you to a wave start.

That’s me second from the front.

This was my first open water swim of the season and I freaked a little. Not like I stopped swimming, I just got all up in my head. Was my breathing off? Where was I going? Like, really stupid things to think about. The col thing, was that this same thing happened last year during my first swim and I knew it was just a matter of time.

Indeed it was. After I passed the first red buoy, marking the 1/3 mark, everything was fine and I was swimming hard. It was lightly raining and visibility was sub par but I did pretty good on my sighting. Now, all I thought about was how to make the swim longer because the bike was going to suck. It was so lovely in that lake water. Warm, no wind, I had eye protection and if I needed nutrition there were fish.

Exiting the swim I kept my wetsuit on as long as I could. I didn’t even unzip it and in fact I ran hard to get my temperature up. I threw on the arm warmers I bought the night before. They were like the last pair and if I hadn’t had them I don’t know if I would have finished the race without a med tent stop.

I started the bike portion, semi-excited because I was racing my new Illicto aka ‘The Morrighan’, and sad as it was raining and cold.

I saw Jen right off the bat which cheered me up.

The Rev3 Quassy course is no joke. There are no straight aways, only uphills and downhills. Imagine this if you will… as you rode up the hills it was quiet and calm with the rain slightly annoying. Once you began the downhills and started hitting 20+ MPH the rain stung and made visibility null and void. Thanks god I had switched out my Oakley Fast Jacket’s dark lens with the red ones. This helped immensely.

The first 10 miles were brutal and I was getting passed a lot. This pissed me off because I am normally the one doing the passing on the bike (since I get passed by so many people on the swim). My bike was making a funny sound, like a hissing sound, but since it was raining I couldn’t pinpoint it and just kept riding. (Travel into the future with me. As we were getting ready for the next day’s triathlon Jim and I discovered that my back wheel was rubbing against the frame and brakes! After making the adjustment the ‘hissing’ sound stopped and the wheel zipped around. Live and learn right?)

I’m not sure what exactly happened at mile 12 or so but I got this fire inside me and everything stopped hurting. I blasted into the high gears and started passing people on the downhills and laughing out loud at the crazy rain. I was back.

My joke of the day was, as I rode next to someone going the same pace I would say, “I heard we’re in for some rain.” I had a few guys laughing pretty hard which was my goal. I mean come on, riding in a 50 degree downpour? No one is having a great race so we may as well make the best of the situation.

Even though I was on my second wind or warmed up or whatever, at Mile 20 I was ready to be done. My hands were numb and it got really hard to shift gears. Then I started thinking about how hard it would be if I needed my brakes.

Once again, I saw Jen! She held her hand up as to high-five me and I thought, “No way I can do this Jen, my hands are numb and I will crash.” But then she just said something like, “Virtual high Baker, looking good!” Phew!

Riding into T2 I was really pumped to get out and run. Biking in the rain, not cool. Running in the rain, very fun. Good thing I brought my trusty visor!

Leaving T2 I grabbed a Gu since I hadn’t eaten anything but my banana earlier. My feet were numb so it kind of hurt to run on them. More worrisome, was the fact that if I was actually running to hard and maiming my feet I would have no idea.

The run rocked! I was really feeling it and got my legs in check real quick, like by mile 1.

I passed a lot of runners and used that as my motivation to keep going. I thought of ‘Reach the Beach’ and our Kill Sheet and how many kills I was making.

Mile 4 came up really fast. I didn’t even see Mile 3 for some reason so Mile 4 was like, “Surprise!”

One interesting thing that happened was that as I was passing a guy in my Age Group he said, “Ah, damn it!” I wanted to be like, “Hey man, we are nowhere near getting any kind of awards today. It’s gonna be okay.”

Rev3 is mostly chill people but you occasionally get a hot head.

The last mile is all uphill, not cool. As I made my way to the finish I was surprised to see my friend Amanda cheering me on and then doubly surprised to see a field of mud separating me from the Finish!

My time was 2:59:37 which was the least of my concern. I just wanted to get it over with. I have heard a lot from people like, “Dude, rain and cold ain’t nothing. You should have killed it.” Sorry, but not in my world. Case in point… I ran a 3:23 Marathon in 90 degree (shit show) heat and then a 2:54 two weeks later in perfect conditions.

Sex/
Age
Age
Place
Overall
Place
 Swim
0.9M		 T1 Bike
25M		 T2 Run
6.2M		 Total
Time
M34 39 234 35:51 3:18 1:34:55 2:21 43:13 2:59:37

Anyway, it was still an awesome Rev3 as always and I was so happy to have finished!

I chatted with a bunch of strangers afterward and then went to the Finish to cheer. Once Jim came in we made the decision to bolt. Why? We had 1 hour left on our hotel check out which meant we could take a hot shower.

“Oh Hell Yeah.” (and we needed Dunkin Donuts)

After the most amazing shower and coffee Jim and I continued our journey. We were headed to Long Island to meet up with Ed for our Sunday triathlon…

077 The Great South Bay Triathlon

Big thanks to sponsor Kompetitve Edge for hooking me up in some sick gear!

 

New York I Love You

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I am going to start doing a series of posts on my experiences here in New York City and this is numero one. Dig it.

—

One of the things that makes New York great is the ability to do anything. Do you like to sew? There are classes and talks on sewing. Maybe you like to collect butterflies. Yes, there is a butterfly collector meet-up.

When my friend Elizabeth asked if I wanted to go see Chrissie Wellington speak this week I thought, “Oh man, Triathlon Nerd Meet-up.” “Hell yes I want to go!” For those of you who have no idea who Chrissie Wellington is, I’m going to slap you. Seriously though, the gal won the Ironman World Championships 4 times.

What would I wear? A running outfit? Perhaps a Rev 3 visor? My wetsuit minus the goggles and pee? (people were actually wearing these things by the way.)

I get out of work at 5 and the event started at 7… what to do, what to do?

Abbe invited me to be her guest at a wine tasting downtown that started at 5:30. Perfect!

I arrived at the very dark and sleek venue and met some of her colleagues before getting started on my Vouvray wine experience. We started with the drier wines, moving down the spectrum to some sweeter ones One of them literally tasted like you were biting into a crisp green apple. Amazing.

All of this was happening while we were being served some spectacular hors d’oeuvres. My favorite were the lamb tacos, which were no taco at all mind you. It was more like spicy lamb wrapped in puff pastry heaven.

At 6:30 I left the gals and headed uptown to see Chrissie. I blasted north on the Subway, arriving promptly at 7. Timing is everything.

As I was entering I saw my friend Josh! Josh is a speedy runner (Homeslice just ran a 2:38 in the Dirty Jersey Marathon coming in 3rd overall) who runs for the Front Runners team. Shorty after that I found Elizabeth and we took our seats.

John Korff, the man who’s company puts on the NYC Tri and Ironman NY was our MC.

Chrissie was really fun to listen to. She gave a lot of great pieces of advice, most of which I have heard over the years from others, including my Coach. What was so captivating about her though was how she used Ironman as a vehicle to a larger world stage. Now that she is known for her athletic achievements she can pick and choose her charities and foundations, raising awareness and money.

The other thing that resonated was, she said she always wanted to run a race and give it all physically and emotionally. It resonated because I think I actually did that for the first time a few weeks ago at the Kentucky Derby Marathon.

Everyone stuck around to get their books signed, but I departed, mainly because the line was insane and I was starving!

Walking home in the cool spring air after a talk like that made me want to run.

Where else can you go from a fancy wine tasting to an Ironman talk?! I love you New York!

 

The Cure for Pain

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Moments ago I was listening to the band Morphine’s ‘Cure for Pain’ and started laughing out loud. I’m about to run my second marathon in under 2 weeks and it seems that I am ‘looking for pain’ not it’s cure.

Most of you reading are some form of an athlete whether you consider yourself one or not, being a runner, triathlete, swimmer or a soccer player. Why, as athletes do we quest for this pain? Maybe it’s just that runners are a bit crazier than the rest of the lot?

For me, I think it comes down to battle, or rather it’s modern equivalent. When I am 16 Miles into a Mary, I am deep in battle. It hurts everywhere, my senses are heightened, and the only thing that matters is pure survival. Last week’s Boston Marathon was a perfect example of that since the only thing I was concerned for at Mile 16 (or maybe even Mile 9) was surviving the race and getting my medal!

This weekend I am not the only one racing. In Kentucky, Abbe and Katie will be running I have a number of friends racing Big Sur… Bojana, Eissa, Elyssa, Shawna (who I met on the bus to Boston), Robert. I’m also through with wishing my all friends ‘Good Luck’ which is odd since I’m irish. You don’t need any luck, you already have what it takes. Instead, to all of you I say Godspeed! Go find your pain.

—

Thanks for everyone who came out to the run last night! I look forward to many more runs with you.

 

Meet ‘The Morrighan’

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I would like to thank my sponsors, Kompetitive Edge, for building me one of the sickest bikes I have had the honor to ride.
Meet the Quintana Roo ‘Illicito’ or as I have named her, ‘The Morrighan’.


Why name your bike? Why name your bike ‘The Morrighan’? What does that even mean?
I name my bikes because I am superstitious and also I have something great to yell while chasing people down in a race. Seriously, I yell.

The Morrígan is a Celtic goddess of battle, strife, and sovereignty also referred to as ‘Phantom Queen’. She is the goddess who determines whether or not you walk off the field of battle, or are carried off upon your shield. People both fear her and admire her.

I have taken her out for a few rides round Central Park and it is easily the most comfortable bike I have ever ridden. It is also the fastest. It literally cuts through the air. It doesn’t even have a left seat stay!

Cobrawing Aerobars, very cozy.

No left seat stay! It’s magic!

Big ups to Ryan at Kompetitive Edge who built this bad boy for me!

 

I’m a Sponsored Athlete!

Posted on by Posted in All, Fitness, Training: Cycling, Training: Running, Training: Swimming, Triathlon 3 Comments

In 2008 when I decided to take up running and attempt a marathon, I had no idea it would take me this far. Running and Triathlon are an everyday piece of my vocabulary now and my world revolves around races. Is it even possible to immerse myself even more into the sport?

Yes.

It’s with great excitement that I would like to announce that I will be a sponsored athlete on the Kompetitive Edge team for 2012!

Kompetitive Edge will be my support throughout the race season, providing me with the best of the best gear to fulfill my race goals. If that wasn’t reason enough to be excited, I get to be a part of a very serious and talented team of athletes! Lookout 2012!

RACE REPORT: 068 Ironman Arizona – 11:13:56

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My hunger for endurance sports started in 2008 when I ran my first race, the NYC Marathon. Since then it has literally changed my life, inspiring me to chase goals that at one point may have seemed impossible. One of these goals was to race an Ironman.

Earlier this year I began my training for Ironman Arizona, which always takes place in late November. After a few runs and a bike here and there I started to think that maybe my lofty ‘train when I feel like it’ plan might not cut it on race day. That’s when I recruited the help of Sonja, a 6-time Ironwoman, to coach me. her and I have similar outlooks on racing and life in general so I thought she would be perfect. I was correct. She whooped me into Ironman shape and although it was far from easy, it made all the difference on race day.

—

I arrived in Arizona on Thursday night before the race. It was late and I needed to rent a car and get to our hotel. Did I mention that the last time I drove an automobile was over a year ago? One of the pros and cons to living in mighty Manhattan, you don’t need a car! Exhausted, and quite excited to see some desert terrain the next morning, I went to bed.

Waking up to a dessert sunrise is amazing. I had some coffee and watched the news before setting out for the athlete check-in. SIDENOTE: Ironman isn’t as important to the people of Arizona as one might think. The news cast went something like this… “Tomorrow looks to be an exciting day here in Tempe as ASU gears up to play! Sunday is the Ironman race so watch out for traffic delays.”

Check-in was relatively painless and within 15 minutes I was all set. The Expo was bumpin’ and very full of energy. It’s very different from a Marathon Expo, I don’t know why. Actually, I’m lying—I do know why. I have a breakdown for endurance sports, but it might offend some people, but that’s life. Remember, I do all 3 of the sports I am about to bust on.

Level of laid back, most sportsman like in order:
Bikers = Total assholes
Runners = for the most part, very cool, with 50% being anti-social jerks
Swimmers = laid back hippies, always friendly and willing to chat before a race
Triathletes = 99% laid back friendly with a 1% asshole ratio because there are bikers involved

Next I went to ride the bike course! From my hotel it was a straight shot out onto the Beeline Highway, where 80 percent of the ride takes place. I was in awe of the scenery! There were lots of other riders looking very serious, but here I was with a huge smile looking this way and that, trying to find the perfect cactus (I’m such a city slicker). One thing I did notice was the heat. I could tell that even though I wasn’t sweating, I needed to keep hydrated.

 

Back toward the hotel I was feeling a bit hungry so I went in search of food. What did I find? A deli that made a hero-style sandwich that was very close to New York City standards! I gave it 8 out of 10. After which, I chilled out at my hotel before picking Abbe up from la aeroporta.

On Saturday, we both went for a leisurely run (me having a leisurely bike ride before of course) before heading out to pick up one of my best friends from college, Alex. We then dropped off my bike and transition bags before hitting a local venue for some tacos!

After lunch I just had to drive them out onto the bike course, it was THAT cool! We went out to the Red Mountain (the turn around on the course) and explored a bit.

The rest of the day was spent by the pool before we headed out to Old Scottsdale for some pasta!

In bed and asleep by 9PM! (I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that there were a few beers thrown in to help me sleep!)

RACE DAY!

I awoke without my alarm at 4AM and set about making coffee, oatmeal and preparing my Special Needs Bags for the bike and run. We were out the door by 5:15 and I was in Transition by 5:30.

SIDENOTE: I look like crap. An Ironman? Really?

The energy was beyond amazing. It was pitch black out and everyone was going about their business setting up T1 and dropping off Special Needs Bags. I was done with those tasks by 6 and had an hour to chill, so I busted out my oatmeal and people watched. One thing I noticed was how disorganized some people were, cutting it really close with all the drop-offs! I mean, c’mon people, it’s an Ironman, punctuality should be the least of your problems!

Thirty minutes before the start I went into Transition and started changing into my trusty wetsuit. The water was 61 degrees, but from swimming in the Hudson in early May every year I was ready. We all huddled together (very March of the Penguins-esque) and slowly moved to the swim entrance.

The Pros went off at 6:45 and we had 15 minutes to get in the water and swim the 200 meters to the Start Buoys. Some people were questioning whether we would set off on time. Personally, I wasn’t too concerned, knowing that the water was icy cold, the less time before the start gun the better even if I was in the back. I was actually extremely calm and relaxed.

I jumped off the dock into the lake and was hit with a cold water shock. Knowing that I simply needed to generate some heat I started calmly swimming up under the bridge. I was to the right, midway back, right where I was supposed to be. I floated on my back to conserve energy and because I was really happy. In my head I thought, “This is really happening, I am at the start of the Ironman…”

Without warning the cannon (yes, a cannon) fired and the piranha attack began. I put my head down and started easing into the masses. I was almost immediately kicked square in the eye socket and had to fix my goggles. Arms and legs were everywhere, a giant swimming ‘Rush Hour’ if you will, where the only place to go is forward. I have been beaten up pretty bad in a swim before, but never like this. I was also in no way scared, which is night and day from my childhood swimming experiences. For the whole swim I was elbowing or being elbowed, shaking off hands from my feet (thank God I’m not ticklish). Within 300-500 meters, I found a groove and stuck to it. I knew that my swim time would be the worst, but I also knew it’s part of the protocol and had to get done, so that’s what I did.

We were swimming into the sunrise and it was a very beautiful thing. The light was almost like a blinding guide to the turnaround point, which actually came quick.

This (I think, anyway) is where my swim turned to garbage. As I made the giant turn to come back home I felt some slight fatigue set in. It also didn’t help that people were swimming over top of me. In fact I was so annoyed at one point that I literally pushed someone on my right with my foot and sent them 5 feet to the right, Ninja style, punk. You can’t train for that move, can you?

The bridges at the Start just weren’t coming fast enough. I felt slow and sloppy. I had been swimming for 1:30 now and the cold had now set in and was affecting my performance. “Get it done, Chris,” I told myself. I even thought about quitting for a hot second, before flashing back to what happened to my Dad. He sure as hell didn’t quit his fight with cancer. This was just a silly race—a race I chose. So I swam.

Popping up onto the stairs, I went right to the wetsuit strippers. My guy yelled at me, “Lay down man!” and in one swoop had me stripped of my wetsuit. Wow, if only I had that at every triathlon! Thanks guys!

Running along I suddenly realized  that I was shaking from the cold. Run, just run and get the legs warmed up. Arriving in the T1 tent I was happy to see it was heated. I slowly pulled my arm warmers on as a volunteer checked on me. “Hey man, how we doing you okay?” “Y-y-yes. J-j-just freezing.”

TIME: 1:44:01   PLACE: 2293 out of 2500 (yikes)

Riding out of T1 I saw Abbe and Alex (who snapped this amazingly timed picture!). A gal next to me looked over as we were getting moving and said, “So. Cold. So very very cold.” I, also freezing, yelled at her, “Hang on, we are almost in the sun!” Hours later we would all be wishing for that cold back as the dessert is no moderate place to race.

The bike course is a 3 loop out and back, and when I say out I mean it! You ride 19 miles out into the dessert to the Red Mountain! SO sinister sounding right? The beauty of the course is that it is relatively flat.

The mighty Red Mountain!

My body was hurting for the first trek out to the mountain. I even said to myself, “Wow. That swim kicked my ass.” I couldn’t get comfortable and my lower back hurt right from the start. I just followed our plan and kept my heart rate up and steady, drinking my EFS every so often. I was told not to focus on passing people, but I was passing everybody.

Arriving at the Red Mountain is something out of Mad Max. Here you are riding along this desolate (very desolate) dessert highway and then, ‘Blam!’ you round a corner and it’s like an aid station party in the middle of nowhere! People cheering and handing out everything possible. As I turned around I dropped it down to a low low gear and blasted back toward Tempe. The return is more of a downhill, so you can really crush it. I think I was pushing 35 MPH.

Somewhere along here I ran into my friend Michelle who races with Tri2Be. We had a quick chat before I kept going. I saw many Tri2Be racers out there and cheered them on every time I saw them, yelling “Tri2Be NYC Go!” I even yelled to their coach, Ramon, and said hello, confusing him. (I looked into joining their team a year ago so I had emailed with him a few times.)

Back in sunny Tempe, Arizona I was roughly 2 hours into the bike, 1:50 to be exact. The crowds were thick (as thieves) but I was soon out of their sight as I looped around and headed back towards the sands. I really had to pee so, remembering what a few Ironman friends had told me, I started peeing. I would have lost 10 minutes easy by pulling over to pee. That’s right, I peed my pants on the bike. The funny part is (not to anyone around me) is that I was moving at 20MPH. That’s right, lets put the facts together. Peeing your paper thin Tri Shorts while moving 20MPH… it sprays EVERYWHERE behind you! The funny thing is I didn’t realize it was leaving a wake until I looked back and was like, “Oh my god!” I chuckled and thought, “It’s the Ironman, could be worse.”

Back on the Beeline Highway heading North by Northwest I felt 100 times better than I did the first lap. I was drinking my EFS, water and munching on Clif Bars, maintaining my pace. Every now and then a group of the Pros would blast by at like 25MPH. Totally bad ass.

As I rounded the turn about, this time I pulled over, grabbed a water bottle and jammed it into my aero bottle. Also in my peripheral was this box of mini-Powerbars. I grabbed one. I emptied it in and sped off with speed, much like a Formula 1 racer might do at pit stop. I was quietly proud of myself.

As I prepared to enter Mach 3 on the downhill portion of the bike, a new factor presented itself… the Mighty South Wind! It was easily gusting at 20-30MPH and slowed me down to 17 MPH from 29. It angered me. In fact, the wind always angers me when it rears its head because it’s this invisible thing. Where does it come from? How does it start? Is the jet stream this constant roller coaster of air? I don’t know because I went to art school, but I sure can decorate a house.

Bike Special Needs is your opportunity to refill on any goodies you might have used up on the previous 3 hours of the bike. You pull over by your number and they bring you your bag, which you hopefully filled with something appropriate. Mine had 2 fresh water bottles and a Clif Bar. I swapped out the old stuff with the new and took off, excited to drink more EFS! It’s so good, especially the 3rd and 4th bottle of it! That was an example of sarcasm.

Back in sunny Tempe, I (once again) turned around and headed back toward the dreaded (once mighty) Red Mountain. I needed to destroy the One Ring in the fires of the Red Mountain, wait, wait, different race. I did however have to pee again and—no joke—peed right on the same stretch as before. I’m like a cat.

Out on the Beeline for the last time I changed my strategy. Instead of taking it steady up the highway, I blazed a path, knowing the wind was at my back. It worked and I made up a lot of lost time as evident in my quicker split.

Looping around for the last time I had never been happier to be returning to sunny Tempe. My ass hurt and the wind was really pushing me back. I wanted to run. I had drank all of my EFS, loads of water, eaten a Clif Bar, Powerbar and a Honeystinger Waffle. I felt great as far as nutrition was concerned.

Pulling into T2 a nice volunteer grabbed my bike and said, “I got it, go!” Before I could tell him to be careful, she is a delicate (and yet ferocious) bike, I was off barreling towards the changing tent. My volunteer laughed when he saw I had 2 different colored New Balance running socks, but before I had a chance to tell him about my Laundromat’s Sock Vortex, I was gone.

TIME: 5:43:57   PLACE: 1139 (catching up!)

The sunscreen girls would not let me leave before smearing me with zinc oxide saying, “You Sir, are a prime candidate for the sun screeners!”

Passing the 1st aid station, I grabbed loads of water and a sponge in which I attempted to clean my messy self up with. My legs felt a bit worn out, but I knew it wouldn’t be until mile 5 before they would kick in. I was running my 7:30 pace as Sonja and I had planned, taking it easy compared to a normal marathon pace. This was also a 3 loop course and I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with the monotony. I was consistently passing people now and would never get passed (unless looped by a Pro). In my head I thought about my poor swim and my semi-decent bike, wondering where I could improve for next time. Then I almost said aloud, “Lookout people, we’re running now, you’re on my turf!” But I didn’t. That’s unsportsmanlike, after all.

At aid stations 4 and 5 I thought it wise to get some salt in me, so I slammed down some Ruffles with Ridges (seriously). They were delicious and my body immediately felt better. SIDENOTE: The aid stations in Ironman are like giant buffets. Each mile marker has one and they are identical. Sponges-Water-Gatorade-Powerade-Poweraid Gels-Potato Chips-Pretzels-Cookies-Bananas-Apples-Powerbar Gels-Poweraid-Gatorade-Water-Sponges. It’s an all you can eat aid station buffet around every corner! (Sometimes with a DJ, sometimes with hot girls dressed as cops)

At Mile 4 and 8 Abbe and Alex were cheering me on! Abbe asked how I was and I told her I was doing well. They had a great spot by one of the bridges where they could see runners on the out and back.

As I finished up the first loop I started to feel good. Not great as if I woke up from a nap on the beach, but I was feeling peppy. My hat was bothering me as I never run with a hat, but seeing as how I’m really pasty and have a crew cut I though it wise. Oh yes, and it’s the desert!

Miles 10-12 were uneventful aside from the fact that I was longing for the 13th mile so I could be halfway done. My nutrition was on par and all I was taking in at this point was water and Gatorade. Right around this point I saw Hillary Biscay cheering and I yelled to her, “Hillary, I love reading your blog!” like a good dork blogger should to which she replied, “Thank you! Good luck!”

When I saw Abbe and Alex on the second loop I gave them my heart rate monitor which had been annoying me. I also told them I wanted an In-N-Out Burger when I was done! I also yelled, “It’s about to get REAL.”

As I came back around to the start to begin my 3rd loop something strange happened. I kept telling myself that when I hit my wall at mile 17 or 18 (when it happened like clockwork 2 weeks prior in the NYC Marathon) I would walk to ease the pain. Guess what? I never hit that wall. In fact this would be the only marathon I have ever run where I didn’t walk! Instead I had this crazy sense of urgency to finish. I was rocking an 8 minute pace, far from my typical running times, but this was Ironman and I’ll take it. The pain in my legs seemed to dissipate as I cruised forward passing groups of people. I had heard about the ‘Ironman Carnage’ and now I was seeing it. 90% of the marathoners were walking. I am by no means criticizing, because it’s every man’s individual race, it was just wild to see the end of a long day and what it did to all of us.

Sonja had warned me of people trying to draft me once I was cooking and it happened at mile 18. This big 6 foot fall dude I passed sped up and was shadowing me. I don’t like to be shadowed, I live in New York City for god’s sake. Maybe this fella was gonna try and pinch my wallet. I punched it and was kicking some 7:30s again and before I knew it he was an after thought.

I had also heard the phrase, “Once you start on Coke, you can’t stop.” I am referring to an endurance race and not a night club. Seeing as how I had 6 miles to go I figured why the hell not, and so I had a shot of Coke. It made me feel amazing, maybe because I never drink soda! I had a shot the next 2 aid stations and then started thinking… “They shouldn’t ever give this to kids! Holy cow.”

The last 4 miles were easy. I’m serious and I’m not trying to sound like a jerk, they just were. My legs were on autopilot and mentally I was somewhere else. I would be lying if I didn’t say I was emotional. I was thinking to myself, “This is really happening, I’m going to complete an Ironman.” I was also thinking of my Dad and how six months to the day I was telling him as he lay dying that every race I do from here on would be for him.

Running the last mile I encountered lots of crowds. The sun was down now and the course looked just as it did when we started the swim 11 hours earlier. I cruised into the finish chute and held my hands up high. As always with me, the finish itself isn’t as momentus as actual key points in the race. Abbe and Alex were there in the stands and I yelled and waved to them!

TIME: 3:33:42   PLACE: 458

I finished in 11:13:56. I was very happy with my time. In fact I really could have cared less about my time as it was my first Ironman and finishing was my goal. A woman threw on my space cape and asked me how I was. “I’m good! Wow, what a day right?” She walked me over to where you get your pictures taken and once she deducted that I wasn’t going to pass out if she left me. I saw Alex in the crowds and told him to meet me by the bikes.

I cruised through a very quiet transition and made my way out to Alex and Abbe. I got a huge sweaty hug from Abbe (I was sweaty, not her). We made our way to the car and over to the hotel where I wolfed down my In-n-Out burger, chased with a beer! My throat was dry and sore from the dry desert weather and it was tripping me out. After some conferencing with Abbe and Alex we decided to go across the street to Duke’s to have dinner and some beers. I wore my medal and seriously, nobody batted an eye. The bartender did buy me a shot of Jameson once Abbe and Alex force fed her the Ironman news.

In-N-Out Burger after the race. So good.

Back at the hotel we were all asleep by 9PM. I wanted to go to the midnight finish but just didn’t have it in me, nor did I want me cheer squad to endure any more Ironman torture!

—

It’s been a really hard year for me. I always considered my family (who I am really tight with) immortal. Two great-grandmas who lived past 100 and my current grandmas and their brothers are still kicking it at 90. My grandma has a boyfriend for god’s sake (yeah, she’s awesome)! But my father lost a two year battle with cancer in the span of 1 week. One week from hell that I will not soon forget, as it haunts me constantly.

I was in the middle of training for Ironman when he suddenly died. I had taken on a coach for the first time and my volume was increasing in a way I had never experienced. His death set me back physically and mentally. Sonja, said coach we are discussing, told me to chill and let me know when I was ready to hit it again.

As my Dad lay in an altered state, breathing tube in his mouth, IV in his jugular, heart rate irregular, with no hope in sight (and believe me it goes against all I stand for to say hope is lost) I told him  that every race from here on was for him.

This race, this Ironman distance triathlon, was for him. At every point in which I thought I couldn’t stand the pain, I thought of what my Dad endured just to try and live another 10 years with us. He suffered day and night at Johns Hopkins, looking for a cure, a cure that doesn’t exist. Still, he fought, and I thought to myself, “If Dad suffered through days and nights of pointless chemo, then I will endure this race and the pain I feel as I am alive and must be thankful for this.”

I held tears back during the race as these thoughts flooded my brain on the swim, bike and run, then my tough guy alter ego kicked in and I forged ahead. My Dad never got to see me race, but I’m pretty sure he was there cheering for the first time at my first (and not last) Ironman.

Big ups:
Coach Sonja: for setting me straight. I now see what all of your tricks were for! Couldn’t have done it without your supreme coaching.
Coach Sean: for my swim moves, even though they need some work.
Alex: for kicking it mafia style in Arizona with Abbe and I. Your presence was needed.
Abbe: for being the best girlfriend and Ironman Support Crew a guy could ask for.
Dad Posse: for being my die-hard triathlon teammates
Runner Army: for being awesome and killing it with PRs at the same time I was in Arizona!

The Ironman. If you’re looking for something to believe in, why not believe in yourself?

 

RACE REPORT: 066 Rev 3 SC Half Ironman

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Revolution 3, South Carolina would be the second Half Ironman I have ever attempted. It fit perfectly into my full Ironman training and also be a nice gauge to see where I was mentally and physically.

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Jim (from Dad Posse) drove the bikes down Thursday and visited family while Ed (also from Dad Posse) and I took a plane the next day. Our flight was 20 minutes late getting off the ground and we had a connecting flight in Charlotte 30 minutes after we were supposed to land. This wasn’t a good start.

I’m no aviation expert… but it seemed like our pilot gunned it the whole time as we almost made up for the lost time. Ed and I looked at each other, knowing we had less than 15 minutes to get to our plane once we hit the ground, and said “We can do this.” Ed got on his sneakers and I looked at the airport map. As we left the gate there was some old guy in a suit who was going to E33 as well, “E33? C’mon! Follow us!” as Ed and I full sprinted down the terminal. We all made the flight, but my man in the suit just walked it. Running is lame.

We took a propeller plane! too cool!

Jim and his brother Brice (also doing Rev3) picked us up and took us to a bar called Carolina Ale House in Greenville for dinner.

The next morning we all went to one of the 5,000 Waffle Houses in the area. It was to be my best meal in South Carolina. I ate so much food, knowing we would be doing test runs of the course shortly after.

We checked in at the civic center and spent some time in the expo buying things. Gotta hand it to the Rev 3 folks, its always so easy and such a pleasure to check-in.

Woo hoo, got a new Rev 3 hoodie! (Ray Bans sold separately.)

Next, we headed over to the swim course for a practice swim. It was on Lake Hartwell, a huge lake that was picture perfect. I threw on my new wetsuit (a TYR Hurricane Cat5) and jumped in. We all swam to the first buoy in kind of like a flying V formation. Brice’s friends Dave and Doug were now with us. The sun was out, we had Waffle House in our bellies, and the water was fantastic. I felt great in the water and the new suit was amazing. The only thing it was missing was an outboard engine.

Did I mention that Brice has a Ford F150 filled with bikes? Ed sat in the back and guarded them on the way to drop them at transition.

 

Back at the cars, we jumped on our bikes to make sure everything was working properly. We rode a few miles of the course before heading down to Transition to leave the bikes for the night. We then did an easy run to get our legs loosened.

Since we were all starving by now, we made our way to Logan’s Roadhouse for lunch and to watch the Clemson game. Sidenote: Clemson is 5 miles from the Rev 3 course and Jim is an Alumni. I was also following Kona very closely, especially since Coach S was racing! She did very well by the way finishing with a 10:08!

We left Logan’s and hit the local Publix food store to get some gear for the morning. Cafe Bustelo, Oatmeal, bananas, beer, and to-go cups were on the list.

After a quick rest back at the hotel we set out for our ‘pre-race’ meal… pasta! The first place we saw was an Olive Garden to which Ed, Jim and I all exclaimed ‘Noooooo!’ Passing countess steakhouses with names often ending in…’Roadhouse’ we came across a seafood place. Shrimp Scampi? Linguine White Clam Sauce? These were valid ‘pre-race’ meals. We sat down (our silverware wrapped in plastic) and saw that everything was fried! No pasta at all! Back on the road we were coming to the end of the strip, hope seeming to fade. Up ahead was ‘Tony and Charlee’s Southern Italian!’’ Jackpot! As we pulled up there was only one car in the parking lot. Perhaps the chef? Every other restaurant in town had a wait, and this place was empty, sweet!

I was elected to ‘check it out.’ As I entered, I approached the woman at the front desk and asked if they served pasta. She simply pushed a menu my way, as if pasta was some made up food group. The menu consisted of all meat dishes most of them fried. It also had Buffalo Wings! Don’t get me wrong, I love Buffalo Wings, but on an Italian menu I think not mon frere. I simply smiled at her and said, “Can I go check with my friends before sitting?” practically running out the door.

Guess where we ate dinner? Olive Garden and it was good! People were even smoking in the restaurant and I didn’t mind!

Sidenote: I am convinced people in South Carolina don’t like Italian food.

We were back at the hotel and asleep by 10PM.

RACE DAY

I naturally woke up at 5AM (cause I am weird) and queued up the Bustelo, made the guys oatmeal and put on my race numbers. I felt well rested and not nervous at all, ready to set it off.

We arrived at T1 40 minutes before my age group was to start. In T1 I ran into my friend Daniel who moved to Charlotte from NYC this year. We caught up and I introduced him to the fellas. The sun was starting to rise and the race coordinators told us we needed to get to the water.

We watched the Pros go then took our place on the beach. As the gun went off, I let a row of fast swimmers take lead. I jumped into the froth and started digging in, remembering not to overdo it at the start and get all worked up. I have done this enough times that fears of drowning are far from my thoughts. Falling into a nice rhythm and focusing on my form I made my way to the first buoy. I felt very fluid.

Moving at a steady rate, I took notice of the beautiful sunrise happening every 6 strokes. I was really enjoying myself out there and maybe should have had faster arm turnover. Even though I may not be the fastest fish in the pond, I am damn good at sighting and was precise with all my buoy turns. At one point someone was on my feet, which is normal, but this guy started climbing my body. Here I am just mindin’ my own business and this speedster is just gonna swim OVER me when there is plenty of water to swim around? Not on my watch. As his arms started pushing down on the back of my knees I gave a swift ninja kick to his chest. I wasn’t groped for the rest of the swim.

Exiting the water I was full of energy and my legs seemed to be functioning properly. I jumped into T1 (was caught by Ed who was racing the OLY) and made my way onto the bike course. Jim was right behind me and Ed snapped him in ‘speedy transition pose.’ (he was standing still, that’s why its funny.)

My legs were out of whack for like the first 10 miles. My quads were burning something fierce. Fierce! The scenery was nice and I kept wishing for the sun to come out. It did.

Once warmed up I tried to pass as many bikers as I could. By the end of it I would overtake 70 or so, but it was a slow and steady game. This is kind of my M.O. for triathlons since my swimming is slow.

There were so many cows and horses out there on the course. Well, not ‘on’ the course but in the fields around us. I kept imitating the cows (blank puzzled stares on their faces) as I passed them. “Bessy, look at them fellers. I heard about such a thing yars ago… I think theys call ‘em BI sickles.” There were also quiet a few dogs that went bat shit crazy when we rode by.

Somewhere around mile 15-20 I caught up with Daniel. We rode together for awhile before I pressed on. We both noted how windy it was! There were 30 MPH wind gusts all day. At times it felt like you weren’t moving at all.

The last 10 miles were tough. My only goal for this entire race was to ride the bike in under 3 hours so I pushed hard on the ending hills. I started thinking about Abbe and where she was in the Chicago Marathon. It was her first Marathon (and her birthday!) and I was really hoping she was having fun.

By now we were mixed in with the Olympic riders who started a few hours behind us. This helped my legs as I stopped picking people off due to not knowing which race they were in. I came in off the bike at 2:50 and was very happy.

Slapped on my sneaks and bolted out of T2. My legs were Jell-o.

Experience plays such a big role in the triathlon world. I was running 8 minute miles for the first 15 minutes, my legs burning and wonky like baby giraffe, but I knew they were reset any minute. We were running these windy switch backs, runners from both the Olympic and Half Iron all over. I like to have fun out there so I tease the volunteers asking them if I can take short cuts. Most of them, new to triathlons, assured me it was probably a bad idea and I would get in trouble. Agreed.

At mile 4 the Half Iron runners veered off to a new section of course, an out-and-back. It was here that I got my legs in full swing. I was decreasing my pace and would end up holding a steady 7 minute mile for this portion of the run. I felt good all of a sudden. I started picking off runners one at a time. We were running down a highway for this section and t was pretty dull. As mile 7 passed I kept wondering, “Where the hell is the turn around?” It soon came just past mile 8. My stomach took a turn for the worse right about now as well. I have never had stomach issues in any race. I eat burritos during marathons for god’s sake, so why now is it freaking out? Was I pregnant?

Looking back, I think I may have had way too much ‘course Gatorade.‘ As mile 10 approached I pulled over, sacrificing my pace, and started slamming water. As I walked forward, the sharp pain in my stomach slowly dissipating, I jogged. Slowly my pace picked up. Soon I was facing runners coming the other way, a few of them screaming, “Where is the turn around?” at me. I feel your pain. Then, I see Jim coming down the highway and he runs into my lane and gives me a high five while yelling, “Rocket Fuel!” This gave me a huge burst of energy and I sped forward. The last few miles would be sub7.

Sidenote: At the Fire Island Hotel they make a drink called Rocket Fuel. It’s a pina colada topped with 151. We love them, especially Jim.

At mile 11 the Halfers get mixed back in with the Oly runners. Up ahead I was like, “Is that Ed?” I yelled out to him, “Ed! You better hustle!” He laughed and turned giving me a slap on the arm, “Go Bakes!”

After a few more twists and turns I crossed the finish. My final time was 5:12, a 13 minute PR.

Sex/
Age
Age
Place
Overall
Place
 Swim
1.2M		 T1 Bike
56M		 T2 Run
13.1M		 Total
Time
M33 9
94
 43:51 2:46 2:49:33 1:34 1:35:14 5:12:58

I waited for Ed to cross, then he and I waited for Jim and then Brice. We were all successful in our own races, celebrating with a delicious ice cold beer in the warm sun.

That night we all celebrated with a big dinner followed quickly by bedtime. The next morning Jim, Ed, and I set off on our 13 hour drive back up to NYC. (we had breakfast at Waffle House again it was awesome again!)

—

Am I ready for my first full Ironman? Yes. (Coach S still has me on a steady training regimen.) Is it going to hurt? Yes.

Bike Talk

Posted on by Posted in All, Fitness, Training: Cycling, Triathlon Leave a comment

To truly know me, is to know bikes and how much I love them.

Bikes are awesome. Anyone that thinks otherwise should be locked up. Seriously, watch out once I become Mayor cause you’re going to jail naysayer!

In the last year I have slowly been building up my TT Bike (Time Trial Bike or ‘Triathlon Bike’) to get it up to Ironman worthy status. (Ironman Arizona is fast approaching) A new cassette, a new saddle, adjusting things after rides, new shoes, handlebar streamers, and finally my rear water bottle cage.

I hate excess, but unfortunately in any distance race you need to be prepared for flats as well as have ample nutrition. My solution was the Profile Design RMC (in white of course to match my saddle). I installed it last night and can’t tell you how thrilled I am with it.


It sits under your saddle and back a bit, creating this like ‘bucket’ area to put things! Inside I have my Co2’s and tire levers, and underneath my spare tube! Oh, and you also have to water bottle cages for nutrition. Its perfect! Now I can load up the front of my bike with snacks (like my Race Burritos!)