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To me, this isn’t the last race of 2011. Instead, it’s the first race of the 2012 Season. Since the Freezeroo series is just that – a series – it seems logical to me that this one should go with the rest of my 2012 races. Right? Right. I did the Freezeroo Series last year for the first time. It’s a series of winter races that are reasonably short – from 5K’s to 8 miles – in generally bad conditions that help us fill the racing calendar at a time when there isn’t much else to do. There is a race every other weekend from mid December through the end of February. Last season, I found myself really looking forward to these races. I raced hard and finished 3rd in my Age group for the series. Needless to say, I was looking forward to another strong finish in the series this season.

I was planning on running the first race in the series anyways, but as I looked at the schedule and my calendar, it became clear that I needed this race (you need a minimum of 4 races to be eligible for the season series and your best 4 results count as your score). I knew I’d be out of town for the 2nd and 4th races, so this one mattered – not that they all don’t, but I wanted a good finish. I hadn’t run this race in the past, so I didn’t really know what to expect of the course. I didn’t really have the time to find out beforehand, so I’d learn as I went.

As I said in the post for the Race with Grace 10K on Thanksgiving, I hadn’t been doing any fast running since the summer, so I didn’t know what to expect. I still haven’t done anything since the Race with Grace either, and I did actually try a week or so, and the result “wasn’t pretty”. My expectations were getting lower. I talked to Gibby about the race. He said “just go out there and Rip it”. Why did that sound so easy??? I tried to come up with a good goal. I came up with two. First, my 5 mile PR is 33:02 (6:36/ mile) – try to get in the ballpark of that. Second, have a good performance relative to the field and my age group

I got to the race and saw Barry. He rode his bike to the race – probably 10 miles from his house and chilly (perhaps 28 – 30*), but sunny and little wind. He told me how much clothing he had to bring – I think I’d rather drive with heated seats… James Brennan was there. I also ran into Dr. Katz, from my CC of Mendon days. He and I started running competitively about the same time. We ran a 2 mile warmup together (perhaps the first 1 1/2 miles of the race course). It was nice to catch up. As we finished the warm up, I started to think “why did you run that far to warm up when you’re needing fresh legs for the race?”. Oh well, water under the bridge. Five minutes to go. I took in a gel, ran a few strides at race pace, and got in the pack at the start line.

Nothing beats the start of a race – especially a short one. Everyone is jockeying for position. People who belong there and people who don’t. Start to fast and you risk blowing your race. Start too slow and you may not catch back up. I think adrenaline always gets the best of me, so I try to start further back to not go out so fast. I’d rather pass (hunt) then be passed (hunted) anyways. I saw James line up a few rows from the front, and I thought I’d start just behind him. 5…4…3…2…1…0… Horn goes!! And, we’re off. I want to run my race, and I want to run it by feel. I vow to only look at my watch at the 4 mile markers. The first mile is very flat, and it feels very fast to me. I’m moving along at a good pace, but it feels too fast. I passed James in this stretch. He passed me back right around the 2 mile marker. They say there are some hills between miles 2 – 4, so I ease off a little. I pass the “Bad News Guy” as he says 6:20. I had that mile marker a little long and had 6:13 for the first mile. Wayyyy to fast for a race this long. Around the 1 mile mark, we start to descend to the low point on the course – a whopping 19 foot descent over a half mile. I couldn’t tell we were going downhill, but I see a ripple in the road ahead of me. We go up 19 feet over the next half mile. I know the hills are coming. My watch beeps right at the 2 mile marker sign. I look and it says 7:07 pace at that moment and 6:25 ave. for the race. Jennifer Rea passes me right at the sign. I feel like an idiot for being ahead of her – she can really run. I see Charley Plummer ahead of me. He can run too. There aren’t many turns in this race, so I can see who is ahead of me. It’s nice to watch the race unfold as I participate in it. Again, we’re running downhill – 15 feet over .6 miles – but it feels flat. That leaves us at the bottom of the “Monster” – a 30 foot climb over 1.6 miles. There were stretches where it seemed somewhat uphill, but, for the most part, I couldn’t tell it was uphill. I pass the 3 mile marker. I’m not gaining any ground, but I’m not losing any ground either. I can still see Jen and Charley. James is nowhere in sight. The 1.3 mile stretch that I was just finishing was into whatever wind there was, and it was the toughest for me in the race. I crossed the 3 mile mark after a 6:49 mile, but my average pace for the race was 6:33, still under my PR pace. I was hurting. I started to tell myself “12 minutes to go. Nope, can’t go that fast. 12 1/2 minutes. Probably more like 13. That’s 6:30′s. Maybe 13:30… Who cares? It’s not very long, just keep going!”

At the 3 mile mark, I started passing people who took the early start option. Then, I see a guy on his bike riding down his driveway. Not a fancy road bike, a single speed Huffy beach cruiser. He pulls right out into the race, right in front of me, and starts riding with the race. He’s riding slower than we’re running. I have to pass him on the grass. “Get a clue…” Passing him and the other slower runners has added some spring in my step. I wasn’t moving any faster, but I FELT like I was and it sure seemed easier. I was moving faster relative to the field. Charley and Jen were getting closer to me. By now we had turned and we were running downwind. Slightly uphill but downwind. From that point, my pace started to drop. I passed the 4 mile mark at a 6:41 pace, and my race average was 6:39. I knew it was now or never. I also knew a PR was unlikely. I was at my limit, and I figured I needed to make up 15 seconds in the last mile – or run a sub 6:20. Wasn’t gonna happen. I knew it was a good race anyways. I still started to drop it in gear. Charley was now right in front of me. The pass was inevitable, but when to make the move? 2 corners to go. I slingshot around the first one and I pulled right next to him. I didn’t mean to do that. I decided to keep going and hope I could hold on. I was running in the 6:15 range and didn’t know if I could hold that pace or if he could catch me. He couldn’t. But 2 others almost did. They finished 2 seconds and 3 seconds behind me respectively.

Almost Done!!!

Last mile was 6:30. Overall time was 33:17. It was 15 seconds slower than my best 5 miler, and it was the second best 5 mile run I have ever run. I finished in 31st place overall and 3rd in my age group. I was pleased with all of those results. Jen… She finished 25 seconds ahead of me. James… He was 50 seconds ahead of me. Dr. Katz… 35:12 – a new PR for him. Barry… 39:09 – a new PR for him too. Great running everyone!!! Now we really can start running the 2012 races in the 2012 calendar year.

Thanksgiving… A day to spend with family – after a good, hard run first thing in the morning. This race is special to me. When I started running as an adult, my first race that I started training for was the Jacksonville Marathon (duh… how clueless could I have been). No point in fiddling around with “short” races, why not just go right after the Mac Daddy??? In preparation for that marathon, I thought I needed a “tune up race”. I was running out of time, with about a month to go before the marathon, so the Race with Grace 10K on Thanksgiving Morning in 2007 looked like a perfect fit. I signed up the night before.

That first race was cold and rainy. And windy. And it took forever. The hills felt like mountains. I crossed the finish line that day thoroughly exhausted and knowing that I couldn’t possibly run 1 second faster. The clock at the finish line said 51:04. An 8:13/ mile pace. 18th place in my age group (out of 44) – top 41%. 237th overall (out of 703) – top 34%. While I was mildly disappointed in the time, I was impressed with my effort and my placings. I also knew that this race had won a place in my heart.

The 2011 version of this race had a new added meaning. It was going to be the last race in the 2011 Rochester Runner of the Year series. That meant this was the last race to grab any points, and it would surely grab an exceptional field. I had taken 2 months off racing to heal up and get my mind and body to race again as I started to train for the Miami Half Marathon in January and the Boston Marathon in April (followed by another full season in 2012). In 2 months, no swims… 3 bikes (1 on a mountain bike)… Mild sports hernia… Didn’t run at all for 9 days, then a few days later I took 5 more days off. My average mileage for the weeks that I was running was around 30 – pretty low for me. Worse yet, the intensity was down (no speed work or intervals), and my long runs weren’t really that long. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t feeling that great about this race.

I too, was looking for Rochester Runner of the Year points. I was not a factor in the overall category, but I sat in 8th place in my Age Group. In a few days, I’d learn how this would play out, but, for today, all I could do would be to race hard. The 42:26 I ran last year was about a minute faster than my previous best 10K, was good for 7th place in my Age Group and 83rd overall. A tough act to follow if I was in shape. I lowered the bar to make myself feel better and promised myself that I’d try to do my best.

Race day was a picture perfect day. Low 40′s, but bright sunshine and a light breeze (that would increase as the day wore on). I ran my warm up and my legs felt like lead. I stretched (yeah, I just said that), but it didn’t help. I did some strides. No help. Oh well… I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn’t my day and I joined the herd of 1000+ other runners making their way to the start area. I actually thought about this race, and tried to game plan the best way to run it. My thoughts… The first 2+ miles are down hill and generally down wind – start easy. Turn it into a 4 mile race. The 3rd mile will be flat but straight downwind. Now it’s an uphill, into the wind 5K – not appealing, but manageable. I thought if I was smart, I could start racing at the halfway point. As I rehearsed this plan, the gun sounded and we were moving. “I guess I’m ready to go…” I don’t look at my watch, but I want to run this by feel – NO hard breathing!!! As I approach the 1 mile marker, I hear the “Bad News” guy (the guy who yells our times on course – he’s bad news, because he always gives me the news that I’m running too fast too early in the race). 5:55, 5:57, 6:00. Are you kidding??? This is gonna be HELL. I pass him in 6:20. The strange thing is that I’m passing no one, and several people go trotting past me. Seriously??? I can see the 2 mile marker. Another bad news guy… 13:03. Good job slowing down… Dead downwind for mile 3. I cross that marker in 19:45, and 20:26 for the 5K. A great 5K time (averaging 6:34/ mile), but I also know that I’m at the LOWEST point on the course, all of the downwind sections are behind me, and I’m breathing hard now. The next 20+ minutes were gonna hurt. Mile 4 is a slow, but steady, uphill climb and into a cornering wind. 7:02. Hard for me to do much better. We turn the corner and the wind virtually shoves me backwards. I need big bodies to hide behind. Any that I can find are slowing way down. I run it on my own. I see a shadow of another runner behind me. I hear the footsteps. I know someone is using me to draft. We’re almost to the corner to head back towards the finish (another mile and a half away) and I look to tell this person behind me to help share the load. I look and this tiny little girl goes trotting by me. I hold back my comments. Even if she did try to block for me, it would be like a goose flying behind a hummingbird – a pretty accurate simile in retrospect. Still into the wind and still uphill. I was uncomfortable. Mile 5. 33:40 (6:45 pace – I don’t know how). I ran that mile in 6:57. 1 Mile and a par 4… Pick up the pace!!! Still uphill and still into the wind. Still getting passed and still not passing anyone. I begin to wonder if my watch is broken and I’m really running slower than it says I am. I can see the finish line. Finally!! Mile 6. 7:02 pace. 40:44. A good lap around the track is 1:30. 42:15??? Could that be possible?? Gotta pick it up!! My pace is dropping like a rock. 6:47 with .22 to go. 6:30. 6:22 with .11 to go. 6:15. I cross the line at a 5:54 pace – my fastest of the day. The clock says 42:09. 15 seconds faster than last year. WOW! Really? I averaged 6:47/ mile, and this was the 3rd fastest 10K I’ve ever run. I finished in 9th in my age group (out of 66 – top 14%), and 88th overall (out of 1011 – top 9%).

Like 4 years ago, I left feeling happy with my placements, but wishing I’d been able to run just a little bit faster, even though I knew deep down that I really couldn’t have run 1 second faster. After a quick recovery run with Gibby and Dave Culp, I was smiling because the rest of the day belonged to my family.

I can’t believe this race is here already. Unfortunately, this is the last Triathlon or Duathlon of the season in this area. From here on out, the weather is too sketchy to rely on. Today, we got an early dose of that. I watched the forecast all week, and it kept getting worse until it bottomed out at a high of 57*, a 70% chance of showers, and 13 MPH winds out of the NNE (read: right off Lake Ontario). I wish that’s what we got. When I got out of bed, the rain was pounding off my roof, the wind was howling, and the temperature managed to raise the mercury all they way to 45*. By the time I got to the race site, it was 42*, raining harder, and the wind was now gusting.

The Rochester Autumn Classic Duathlon is in it’s 8th year, but this is only my third try at it. This year, this race was a biggie for me. I was hoping for a good finish. I tapered for it, and spent a lot of time working on my bike to get it ready for this race. I have an “A” game, and I wanted to bring it to this race.

This race takes place in and around Mendon Ponds park. The runs are done partly on trails, partly over fields, and partly on roads. The course is hilly and full of surprises. This day was no exception. Mud (the deep, thick, gooey kind), rocks, roots, logs, puddles, and long, wet sticky grass was the flavor of the day on the run course. The bike course is done on the roads that run in and around the park. The course is moderately difficult – challenging, but not ridiculous. Today, however, we got to battle a little wind and a monsoon. The roads were going to be soaked. Streams and puddles from poor drainage were everywhere. Cornering would be difficult, and high speeds wouldn’t be too safe. This might level out the field.

I suspected that the bike times would be slower due to the deteriorated road conditions, so, a hard but smart run could ratchet me up the leaderboard. I decided NOT to use my race wheels (that I spent 12 hours working on over the last few weeks). I was concerned that the brakes on Carbon rims wouldn’t grab as much as I needed them to. I also thought the wind might effect the stability of the bike with the deep dish rims, so I opted for my standard training wheels instead. I dropped the pressure in them to get a little extra grab (sacrificing a little speed in the process). While I brought the carbon wheels too, I was confident I made the right choice.

When I got to the race site, the weather was awful. If I wasn’t already registered, I’d still be sleeping. I was registered for the F1 Duathlon – a 2 mile run/ 10 mile ride/ 2 mile run/ 10 mile ride/ 2 mile run. I contemplated changing to the Super Sprint (a shorter race that omits the 2nd bike and 3rd run), but I wanted to try the longer race. I got set up in transition and tried to keep everything as dry as possible – no easy task, and an unsuccessful one on this day. At 8:00, I decided to take a short warm up to get a look at the course. It was muddy and very wet, but it didn’t look too bad. I decided to save my energy. By the time I got back to the transition area, my feet were soaked, my legs were dripping wet, my clothes were drenched, and I was freezing. Nice warm up. Transition was closing, so we headed to the start area.

It seemed like it took 10 seconds from when we got to the start area until we went. No need to enjoy the day. Basically, we got there, had a few laughs, heard “DUATHLETES, SET…..GOOOO!!!” And we were off. My plan was to start in front, get a decent start and hang in front to avoid any problems on the first trail which was muddy (with a big puddle) and would certainly be single file, then settle into a pace. I did it – just like I wanted to. There were 4 or 5 guys who took off – really took off, then one guy, me, and another guy behind me. I had no idea who was behind him (other than the rest of the field). Through the trail single file, just like I expected. I was in 5th or 6th. Left onto the dirt road and up the hill. I passed the guy ahead of me. 50 yards later, 2 guys pass me – one on each side. What the… really?? Seems like I haven’t been passed in a race in a long time – much less double passed. I was so surprised that I actually looked at my watch. It said 6:04 – going uphill. Have at it boys. Turns out one of those runners was Scott Bagley – one of the best runners in the area for the last 30 years. I can live with that.

With the rain pouring down, it was tough to focus on the trails. Water was pooling in the single track trail. Mud was thick on both sides. My line was on the side of that. Through the under brush. Stepping on roots and rocks and running fast enough that I was genuinely concerned about rolling an ankle. Through the first mile in 6:26. That’s fast. I needed to slow a touch. The course would make me slow, but wouldn’t give me the break that I needed. Around the bend and off the the single track we headed into some serious slop. Pavement was dead ahead – finally. Onto the road, I found a rhythm. The road had standing water everywhere, and I caught myself daydreaming about riding on this same road in a few minutes. Back off the road, I turned and had a look behind me – there wasn’t anyone in close proximity to me. Through the grass again, and I started to feel my feet – they were freezing. So was my face. And my hands (which were in gloves). The bike was going to be seriously cold (and I was in a tri shirt, arm warmers, gloves and tri shorts). Over the little hill, using the roots as steps, I was still running a sub 7:00 pace. This was turning into a strong run. Back on the dirt road, we pass a water stop. A girl yells “you’re looking great. Strong run. You’re in 6th!!”. I hear her say “you’re in 7th” to the guy behind me who must be gaining. I pick up the pace. Down the hill, I can hear him right behind me as we go back through the single file trail. Through more mud, up and over another hill and he pulls even with me. He passes me on the flat section before the transition area. I come into transition in 7th with a run of 13:59. This is a great run in these conditions over this course.

I keep up the pace into the transition area. Off with my visor while I’m running. I get to my bike and put on my helmet as I kick off my shoes. I unrack the bike and run towards the bike course. In and out in 41 seconds – one of the top 10 fastest transition times of the day. I passed the last runner who passed me in transition. I’m back in 6th. I had a rubberband around the water bottle cage and the strap on my bike shoe. It stays perfectly level as I run past the bike mount line. I step on it, swing my leg over the seat and I’m gone. I pass another guy who is having bike troubles just outside the transition area. I’m in 5th.

I pedal with my feet on my shoes for a bit, then slide them in, one at a time. I reach down and fasten them without missing a beat. The road is a mess. Standing water. Streams running down the road. Puddles everywhere – some of them are fairly deep. I begin to wonder if a bike will hydroplane. The roads were terrible for this race in the spring. Not this time – freshly paved and not even striped yet. I know wet tires attract debris. Lower pressure makes them stickier. Fresh pavement tends to have small sharp objects embedded in it but protruding until the cars can press it down. Basically, I’m riding in “Flat heaven” and I wonder how to best navigate through this, since I’m not carrying a spare tube. Anyways, back to the race – I’m not going to flat. I’ll just stay a little left and keep in the car tire tracks.

A mile in, we are heading uphill. The guy I passed in transition passes me and I pass him back a few hundred yards later. The first 2 miles of this course is a few hundred feet uphill, so it’s a tough start after trashing your legs on the hills in the run a few minutes earlier. My legs were feeling it, but I crested the hill and headed towards the first tricky corner on the bike course – a sharp 90 degree right hand turn that is downhill in and out. I wasn’t sure how the bike would handle in the wet conditions. Apprehensively, I took it easy, but the bike was great. I pedaled hard out of it. I could spot the guy ahead of me and he became my target. Suddenly, I heard the “Voom, Voom, Voom” of a disc wheel coming up on me from behind. Without looking, I knew it was the guy I’d been flip flopping with over the last 10 minutes. It was. Back in 6th, but gaining on the guy in front of me. Through 2 miles, I was at 19 MPH. Slow in the grand scheme of things, but I knew this was pretty strong given the uphill and the conditions.

My feet are freezing. I feel the water pooling in my shoes. I look down, and as I pedal up, I see water running out of my shoes. This ROCKS!!! A quick glance at my Garmin computer and it says I’m traveling at 24.7 MPH – on the flat. I’m moving. The “Voom, Voom” guy is pulling away from me, but the guy in front of me is right there. I pull out and pass him. I’m back in 5th. SWEET!!! I pull back in and I hear another “Voom, Voom” guy. I watch him pass me and can’t help but think he’s nuts for riding that wheel in the wind and rain. Back in 6th. My front end feels sloppy. I look down and it looks OK. A few more pedal strokes… I feel the rim. Awww, no!!! I look down again and the whole tire is hanging out on the right side of the rim. And just like that, my day and my season were over.

Off to the side of the road, I took off my shoes and started walking back towards the last intersection – perhaps 3/4 of a mile away – in my barefeet, in the rain, it the 42* miseryfest. I hooked a ride back to the transition area, and packed my stuff while the race went on without me. 24+ minutes into a race that should have lasted 1:45:00, my brain and my body didn’t feel like they should be done, but I handed in my timing chip and had to take a DNF. How disappointing… As I drove home, I couldn’t help but ponder what a day it could have been…

The Boston Marathon… To a runner, you need not say more. To a non-runner, you probably wouldn’t understand. As a golfer, I say the Boston Marathon is like the US Open of Running – it’s where the best of the best go to race. As runners who race the marathon distance, the Boston Marathon is the ultimate prize, the king of the hill, the big Kahuna. Adding to the allure of the Boston Marathon is it’s deep tradition. It started over 100 years ago – in 1896. The mission was to run from “here” to Boston – a 24 1/2 mile run. A quick heel drag in the dirt to make a start line, and off you go. Who knew what it would become?? 15 runners took the train from Boston and ran that first race. 2012 might see 27,000. The Boston Marathon is the only exclusive race in the world. There is a Qualifying System – a time standard set for each age group, male and female from 18 to 80+. To get in? Athletes need to run another marathon on an approved course under the time standard for your gender and age group. While there are a few charity spots, it’s the only way in. If you can do it, you earn a coveted “Boston Qualifier” – or “BQ”.

In recent years, the Boston Marathon has become a bit of a “Bucket List” thing for runners around the world. as recently as 2004, the race didn’t sell out. In 2008, it sold out in February. In 2010, it sold out in 3 weeks. In 2011, it sold out in 8 hours. Sold out? Yes, sold out. That meant that even if you were fast enough to run your BQ, but you weren’t fast enough on your computer (to register), you still may not get a chance to run the race. For 2012, the BAA (Boston Athletic Association) (the group who runs the race), decided that some changes needed to be made to ensure that the highest quality field was obtained, so they modified the registration process whereby the runners who exceeded their BQ by the most (20 minutes below or more) registered first, then the 10 minute plus group, and so on until the field was full. Within each group, runners were accepted into the race by priority – not first come, first served – so, those who beat their BQ by the most had the best chance to get in. For 2013, they have taken it one step further and lowered the Qualification standard by 5 minutes for every age group (this will eliminate 10,000+ BQ’s alone). These two changes ensure that Boston is THE prize in running. For a runner like me, just having a chance to get into this race is an accomplishment. Earlier today, I received this email from the BAA:

My BAA Acceptance letter

For me, this journey started while lying on the infield of a track in Jacksonville, Florida with my brother. Minutes earlier, we had just completed our first marathons together. He started it… Back in August, 2007, he said he wanted to run a Marathon with me. I didn’t have a good excuse not to do it, so I said I would. Although we lived 1500 miles apart, we trained the same way – the same distance at the same speeds – each day. Race day came, and the plan was to run the race together, and for 25+ miles, we did. My IT band was screaming at me to stop for 18 of those miles, but 4:00:02 later, I crossed the finish line. He snuck it in in under 4 hours with a 3:59:30 something.

My sister-in-law asked my how I was feeling. All I could manage to say was “Never Again…”. I couldn’t get up. I felt just awful, but the sense of accomplishment was beyond words. I called Jackie to let her know that I was still alive. She said “So, how was it?”. I said “If you ever let me do another one of these, I’m leaving you”. We laughed, but I think she knew.

Jacksonville, 2007

While I was in pain and happy to be done, something inside me was mad that I didn’t get it done in under 4 hours. I had no time goal going in, but the difference between a 4 hour marathoner and a 3:59 marathoner is a BIG deal to a runner. On the plane ride home, i had time to reflect and think – a dangerous combination. One thought was …if I ever do another one of these, I think I’d do this, this and this differently… That’s all it took. I told those thoughts to Jackie on the way home from the airport. She simply said “I knew it”.

By May, 2008, my running was really improving. To the point of where the unthinkable became a goal of mine – i wondered if I had what it took to get into the Boston Marathon. Six months earlier, that seemed so far out of reach and so ridiculously hard core, that it was unfathomable to me. In June, 2008, I started training for the Rochester Marathon with the hopes and dreams of finding a ticket to Boston at the finish line. After 18 weeks of training, we were greeted by a day that was extremely hot and humid. With some severe dehydration issues, I DNF’d (did not finish) for the first time in my career.

Rochester Marathon, 2008

To say I was bummed after that is an understatement. The next day, I registered for the Winglass Marathon, which was to take place 3 weeks later. I was determined to make this one count. I did – almost. I needed a Sub- 3:20 marathon to get into Boston. I ran a 3:24:19. While it’s tough to be disappointed with a 35+ minute PR, I was. I really wanted that sub 3:20.

Winglass Marathon, 2008

The Disney Marathon was next – in January, 2009. I kept my training up after Wineglass and showed up to the starting line tired and mildly injured. I had a problem with my foot, but I could run through it. Walking through the expo, I KNEW this was my race. Another PR – 3:23:07, but no BQ. UGH!!! What do I have to do? I finished in 391st place out of 15,000 runners, and it started to validate what I was hoping was true – for the first time in my running career, I thought maybe I’m not dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, I am good enough. I knew I needed to work harder.

In the fall of 2008, I began to get interested in Multisport races – Triathlon, Duathlon, etc. My body was beat up from almost 2 straight years of run training for marathons. I needed a break, and multisport was that break – for almost 2 years. After finishing my first Half Ironman Triathlon in September, 2010, I was driving home and I had time to reflect and think – that deadly combination again… I thought I was in pretty good shape, and, with winter coming, it would be a shame to let this fitness go to waste. I though maybe it’s time to run another marathon. Afterall, if I ever wanted to try to get my elusive BQ, THIS was the time. I was 44, but the 2011 race was sold out, so I was working on qualifying for the 2012 race – when I’d be 45. At 45, my qualification time would go up to 3:30. With that, I registered for the 2011 Miami Marathon. I met Dan Giblin (Gibby) several times through our sons baseball season, and we chatted about running and triathlon. He made a comment that I never forgot – he said if you want to be a better runner, you have to run with the runners. The Saturday after the Augusta Half Ironman, I took my first run with the Gold Rush Runners. These people are all runners. Many have the same goals and aspirations as I do. Many have already been to Boston (Including Gibby, who’s running his 10th straight in 2012). I got a crash course in how to run. I had 4 races on the schedule in my Miami training. Three PR’s. The fourth was the Tour of Irondequoit Marathon. I won the race and set a new course record. The 3:42:13 wasn’t a great time, but it was in December on unplowed roads and paths, it was unsupported (no water, etc. on course), it’s among the hilliest Marathon courses anywhere, and I ran the last 18 miles alone. I was very proud of that effort.

Tour of Irondequoit Marathon, 2010

January 30th, 2011. Miami, FL. THIS was my day. Good first 10K, PR’d the Half Marathon. Felt great. Everything went great until an unexpected 3 minute pit stop at the 19 mile mark threw me off course. After that, I couldn’t get back on track. Anything can happen on race day. Still, I finished in 3:23:09. No PR, and I was mad. For 18 weeks of training, I focused on nothing else but running the race in under 3:20. Walking through the finish corral, I thought of nothing other than my time, when, all of a sudden, it occurred to me… I just qualified for Boston! I JUST QUALIFIED FOR BOSTON!!! It wasn’t the way I wanted to have it happen, but I did it. Someone handed me my finishers medal – I looked at it and said “this is MY ticket to Boston”. Finally… Just as I was getting lost in the emotion of the moment, some guy who I never met comes over to me and says “Did you do it?”. “Do what?” “Qualify for Boston?” “Yes, I did.” He said “I did too”. “Congrats”, and I reached out to shake his hand. He hugged me – sweaty body and all – and started to cry. He said “For 18 years, I’ve been trying”. It occurred to me just how special this accomplishment is. I’ll never see him again, but it’s a moment I’ll never forget.

Two weeks later, the BAA announced the new rolling registration policy and the new times for 2013. My heart sank. I had no idea what to expect, so I asked around. The consensus was a 50/50 shot at best. So, even though I had my BQ, i might still not get to run the race because that qualifier wasn’t good enough to actually get me into the field. Really??? So, I got back on the horse. I registered for the Cleveland Marathon in May, 2011

May 15th, 2011. The weather was horrible. Rain, cold, wind, yuck… Didn’t matter. I already had a BQ, so this was a bonus run. My only goal was to run for less than 3 hours and 20 minutes and find a better ticket to Boston at the finish line. Still I trained hard. I was ready. I was learning how to race a marathon, and today was the day I was going to get it right. As I turned into the finishing chute and caught a glimpse of the clock – it said 3:17: something. THIS was how I wanted it to happen. I crossed in 3:17:53. Another PR by 5+ minutes, but more importantly, I had a BQ that was 13 minutes under my qualifying standard. I was a Boston Qualifier and I did it with a PR and a sub 3:20 marathon. I ran the first 15 miles with a guy from Boston who was also trying to qualify. For 2 hours we shared our goals and dreams of running THE race. Less than 80 minutes later, we met again in the finishing corral. “Did you make it?”. “Yup, you?”. “Yes, see you there, Bud”. A high five and we went our own way, probably never to see one another again. Never was there a mention from either of us of the PR that we both ran – just the congrats on the BQ. Three years of training covering thousands of miles – done. The goal was reached the way I wanted to reach it. I started to get choked up thinking about it, and then I saw Jackie and the kids. Choked up turned into jubilation in an instant. I was going to BOSTON!!! We were going as a family. With all their sacrifices to allow me to do this – they earned the trip as much as I did.

Boston, Here I come!!

So, with that, my work was done. All that was left to do was wait – and hope to get lucky during the registration process. On Monday, September 12th, Registration opened for the BQ-20 group for 2 days. Almost 4500 applied and were accepted. This sure sounded like a lot, but I still hoped I’d get in. On Wednesday, September 14th at 10:00 AM, registration opened for the BQ-10 group (my group). At 10:01, I submitted my application. I was given Submission ID # 4779, and was told that after verifying my BQ time, I’d find out on Friday. Friday?? I can’t wait for 2 more days. So I wait. I check Facebook and the BAA website to gauge how many have registered. Over 9,000 at the end of the day on Wednesday. Almost 10,000 by the end of the day on Thursday. I knew they were taking 19 – 20,000, so I was pretty comfortable I was going to get in. Friday, September 16th. I get up and check my email. Nothing from the BAA. Seriously? I don’t want to wait any longer. Then, at 8:27 AM, it came. It’s official – I’m in.

On April 16th, 2012, I’ll be toeing the start line with the best runners in the world in Hopkinton, Ma. We’ll go past Wellesley, up and over Heartbreak Hill, down Boylston Street and finish in Copley Square in downtown Boston. I can’t wait. Se ya’ll in Beantown!!!

Ahhh… how things change. As I mapped out the second half of my race season, I had a few key races, and, unfortunately for me, they all seemed to collide with one another and provide me with a very crowded fall racing schedule. The Duathlon at Tri Dunkirk was important to me for my USAT National Ranking in Duathlon. The Rochester Half Marathon was important to me because I really wanted to set a new PR at the half marathon distance (and possibly gain an automatic entry into the 2012 NYC Marathon at the same time). These races are 3 weeks apart. The Finger Lakes Tri was important to me because it would be my first try at the Olympic Triathlon distance, it takes place where I sometimes train, and because I just like it there. I knew the chances of doing well in all three races would be a tall task. Throw the Summerfest 12K in from the other weekend during this stretch and it wasn’t looking good. Last weekend, I got a call from my boss – he wanted to come and travel with me for a few days – that’s great, I love it when he comes to work with me. He wanted to come in on Sunday – the 18th, in the morning. “No problem, when do you get in?” “9:40″. “I’m racing that morning, but I should be able to be there by 10:00″. “Perfect”. Later that day, he sends me his itinerary. He gets in at 9:40 – in Buffalo. Buffalo?? Yes, Buffalo. Just like that, I was a scratch from the Rochester Half, and the Finger Lakes Tri became my “A” race of the season. The only issue was that it was a week away, so training to a peak for it was not an option. I could, however, get a nice taper in and be ready to roll come race day.

The Finger Lakes Triathlon has a Sprint and International (Olympic) Distance Triathlons, with relays in both races. The swim was in Canandaigua Lake (one of the Finger Lakes in the heart of Upstate New York), the ride was in the rolling country side in between two of the Finger Lakes, and the run was a flat 2-looper, equally divided between the city pier and the park area at the north end of Canandaigua Lake. It’s a perfect setting for a race. It was also the USA Triathlon Regional Club Championship for 2011. This race is a biggie. There are 1250+ athletes in the field, and they come from all over to compete, – it’s THE marquee triathlon in the area. It was fitting that THIS was the MARQUEE race of MY season too. Not only was it big in numbers, but it had a big time race feel. Big transition area, lot’s of spectators, etc. I was really anxious to get the party started!!

As usual, my taper wasn’t really a taper (I trained too hard right up to race day). Despite that, I felt rested and ready to roll on race day. Leading up to race day, I also had some trouble with my race wheels, so I rented a set for this race. I put them on my bike, and the ride wasn’t quite right, so, I put the new wheels on my other bike (the one I used in Dunkirk). After several tweaks and test rides, it was perfect.

On race day, I was up at 4:45 am and out the door by 5:15. As I drove towards the race site, the thermometer in my truck said 47 degrees – that’s awful cold. I knew it would warm up as the sun came up. Even though I got there late (6:15 am), I was able to get body marked and get a nice spot in transition. There was a buzz in the air. It was exciting, and I was anxious to get started. As daybreak began to near, I was able to see the swim course for the first time. 4/10′s of a mile straight out from shore sure looks like a long way – the buoys get awful small in the distance. The water was a little choppy and the current was flowing directly in towards shore. I thought about how nice the second half of the swim would feel. As I was setting up, I had an uneasy feeling about my tire pressure, and there was some on site help from the guys at the Park Ave. bike shop, so I took my bike over to them. A little tweak and I was all set. Back into transition to get set up…

Before the National Anthem, there was a tribute to the souls lost in the 9/11 tragedy from 10 years ago (this race was on 9/11/11). The respect and the patriotism in the crowd was awesome. I was struck at just how privileged we are to be able to even be here today. To be able to live our lives the way we do because of the sacrifices made by so many before us. As I stood there, I was really proud to be an American. Once the ceremony was over, I took one last look… Everything was laid out, my wetsuit was on, I grabbed the swim cap and goggles and headed over to the lake shore. I was in the fifth wave of five in the Olympic race. This meant I’d have about 80 – 100 other swimmers in my wave, and all of the other Olympic racers would be out ahead of me. I knew it would be a busy bike and run course. The starting gun sounded, and I struggled to get a view. 100 yards off shore, and half of the first wave is walking. Yes, walking, in water that is barely waist deep. As they get to the turn off buoy for the Sprint Triathlon, several are still walking. I never realized it was THAT shallow. Finally, the other waves go, and it’s our turn. For some reason, since I still hadn’t seen Jackie and the kids, I take one last quick look through the crowd. I saw them just as I was about to turn and head into the water. That made me feel better. The water was 71*, and it felt good to get in. Finally, the gun goes and we’re off. My game plan was to ignore the shallow water and swim. It would be easier on my legs and about the same pace. I settled into a nice rhythm in the middle of the pack. Suddenly, someone’s hand bumped my head and my goggle filled with water. I started to tread water as I emptied my goggles when my foot touched the bottom. almost 2/10′s of a mile off shore, I’m walking and fixing a goggle problem. I chuckle as I realize I’m still moving forward. The waves are small, but they are moving me up and down, and making my breathing difficult. Also, we are swimming in a counter-clockwise direction, so the buoys are on my left. I breathe to the right, so sighting was a challenge. As I swam, I just followed the others around me – as long as I could see them, I knew I was in good shape. The water was clear, but not crystal clear. We could see the bottom, but it was a little stirred up. I was enjoying it. to the halfway point – around the buoys and heading for home. 4/10′s to go. Now we were down current. This is easy. To be sure I was still on course, I took a look at the arch by the swim exit every so often. I swam until my hands hit the bottom. I stood up and took my goggles off – I was still at least 100 yards from shore. At least the bottom was sandy. Running was tiring, so I just plodded along. I took a quick look behind me – “I can’t believe there are 30 or 40 people still in the water”.

The run from the water to Transition was long

Finally back on dry land, the run from the water to the transition area was about a quarter of a mile. While my official swim split of 34:44 has that run added to it, I split them and got a swim time of 33:10 and a run to transition of 1:34. My swim time was 156th on the day and in the top 40%. I was pleased with the swim, but I knew that my race started NOW. The transition area was large. It took a long time just to get in and out. My T1 time of 2:18 was 55th fastest on the day, and that included taking the wetsuit off, having a drink of water and a gel. I grabbed my bike and was out in no time. I took a rubber band and set it around the strap on my shoe and around the water bottle cage. it held the shoe in a perfect spot. I ran with the bike across the dismount line, stepped on the pedal, other leg over the seat and I was off. That’s how you draw it up!!!

The race starts HERE!!!

As I rode the first quarter mile, I got my feet in my shoes and started to go. One problem… The course was divided in half on one lane of traffic, and most of the Olympic racers were out ahead of me. With barely enough room to pass another rider, and not wanting to garner a drafting penalty, I decided to stay put until we hit the main road – almost a mile away. I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I started passing riders one at a time while I could. My first mile was 17.4 MPH – ugh. Then we hit the main road and headed up hill – 200 feet uphill over the next 2 miles. Even though I was passing riders in bunches, my speed was slowing – I averaged 17 MPH on that stretch. Despite the wide shoulder on the road, passing was difficult. The pavement on the right side of the shoulder was terrible (so most riders were near the left side of the shoulder) and the road was open to traffic (which was traveling at 55 MPH). Having to look over my shoulder to pass each rider was growing old – so was shouting “On your left” – but having to wait for cars to pass before I could pull out to pass was giving me high blood pressure. We finally crested the hill and started a 5 mile stretch, that, except for one hill, was all down hill (a net drop of 80 feet). I averaged almost 23 MPH on that stretch. The good news was that I was now averaging 21 MPH for the ride, but the bad news was that the next 11 miles were all uphill. It was filled with hill after hill – each one with a false flat at the top. It started to wear on my mind. Despite that, I rode hard. I averaged 20 MPH through that stretch, and I was still at 20.4 MPH for the ride. My time was good, the pace was strong, but my legs were feeling it. On the last uphill I was passed by another rider. He was one whom I had passed earlier in the ride. I remembered him because his rear wheel was so far out of true (laterally), that it made the whole bike move side to side. We had a huge descent just ahead. I was concerned for his safety – and my own. This is a tricky descent – 300 feet over 3 1/2 miles, but the last 200 feet over 1 1/4 miles on a winding road with a rough shoulder that isn’t closed to traffic, and a ninety degree right hand turn at speed onto another road (also not closed to traffic) at the bottom. The bottom line is that a rider will come into the steepest portion of the descent with some good speed (I was over 25 MPH) and only get faster from there. On this descent, I was passed by a Kamikaze rider who had to be going at least 50 MPH. I was coasting and going about 35 when he pedaled by with his chin pressed against the handlebars. I was so focused on him that I forgot to check out how “Mr. Wobble” made it down. The last mile of the ride was again single file and was a huge time loser (as we were now mixed in with the Sprint racers), but it was probably good that I took it easy since I had a chance to find some semblance of legs to run on. I ended up catching and passing the Kamikaze just before transition. For the ride, I averaged 20.4 MPH and was passed by one lone rider (Mr. Wobble), and I passed him running out of transition. The ride was the 58th fastest of the day. I was pleased with the ride given the course, but there would be time to reflect on that later – now it was time to really shine. Put on your running shoes and GO!!!

Time to RUN!!!

I knew I passed a lot of riders on the bike course, and I knew I’d pass a lot more on the run if I could run like I was capable. Gibby and I talked about this run earlier in the week. We thought that a run at 7:00 minute miles would lap the field. That was my goal.

Heading out for the run

The run course is dead flat and I’ve run it a few times. I knew it would be crowded, but I didn’t expect it to be like it was. There were a lot of slow runners out there, and it was difficult to get past runners running 3 wide on a one lane road that was divided in half. No worries. I told myself “Just be patient”. Like the bike, I was passing runners in bunches. With slower sprint racers and faster relay racers all running the same run course, it was impossible to gauge where I was in my race. My first mile was 6.43. I felt pretty good – my legs were OK. The second mile was 7:04 including a quick stop for fluid (and to also let my heart rate drop a little). The road was better. My third mile was 6:56 and I felt much better. I found my rhythm and I was moving along at a nice pace. I passed the halfway point at 21:38 – a pretty good first 5K considering all I’d been through. My goal through the second half was to just maintain that pace. It felt good – easy. I briefly tried to pick up the pace just past the 4 mile marker (down in the 6:40 range). My heart rate went through the roof and it forced me to walk to take a drink at about 4 1/2 miles. I was in the zone and tried to push the envelope. It cost me a few seconds. When I started back up I didn’t lose my place and I found that magic pace again. Mile 4 was 7:08. Mile 5 was 7:17 Mile 6 was 6:53. The last quarter was 6:05. My second half was 21:09 – a really good 5K and a negative split to boot. My time was 42:47, which averaged out to 6:54 minute miles. My run split was 28th fastest on the day. I don’t think I had much left to go at it any faster.

Almost home!!

Overall, I was thrilled with the 2:35:20 time. It was good for 50th place overall (out of 306 finishers) and 6th in my age group (out of 32) amongst a very strong field. The whole race was a good one for me – right down to the end. I’m glad that this turned into my “A” race of the season. It was a nice way to cap off a very successful season. I loved the area. I loved racing where I train – allowing other triathletes to come play in my house. When it was all over, though, I sure was happy to see a friendly, smiling face.

Thanks for coming!!!

For this race, I used the Valdora PHX with a rented set of Zipp 808 Firecrest wheels, Mizuno Ronin 2′s, a Rocket Science Sports Elite wetsuit, and a whole host of Fuel from Hammer Nutrition.

This race was not one that I needed, and, in hindsight, I would have been better off passing on. It is a difficult course. It’s hilly. Good times are hard to be had. I ran this race in 2008, and the summary in my training log simply said “Never again”. I ran the Spring Forward 15k over a similar course in April, 2011 and had a similar take. I thought that sooner or later I’d get over it and have a good race on this course. After all, I ran the Freezeroo on some of this course on New Years Day, 2011 and had a great race… Maybe the curse was off this course for me.

My mission was to run a strong race in preparation for the Rochester Half Marathon, which is three weeks away. I’d treat it like a half, except I was going to train through it. As a side benefit, this race was a part of the Rochester Runner of the Year series, so the field should be a strong one. We moved on from the rain during the early part of the week into HOT temperatures at the end of the week. Highs were in the 90′s – rare for September. Worse yet, the humidity was high. It was downright uncomfortable out.

I woke up early on race day and looked at the weather channel. At 6:00 am, the temperature was 71 degrees with a dew point of 69 degrees. YUCK!!! This was going to be miserable. At race time, it was going to be about 80 degrees with 90%+ humidity. What a treat…

I got to the race site about 45 minutes early. I walked around and was sweating just doing that. I decided to warm up. After a slow trot, sweat was pouring off of me. Enough of that. Fortunately, the race was almost ready to start. I tried to line up a few rows back so I could ease into this race. As the gun sounded, I tried to simply settle into a nice pace. A half mile in I was running a sub 6:00 min/ mile pace. What a dummy… I didn’t mean to do it – honest. As I approached the one mile marker, I could hear the bearer of bad news – the “uh-oh” guy who always tells me I’m going too fast. The first time I hear him, he is saying 5:25… 5:28… 5:30. I think to myself, “This is gonna stink in about 15 minutes”. I passed him in 6:20. Good first mile for a 5K in a DU, not a good one in a 12K over a course that is too hilly to drive over. I had to slow – immediately. I did. My second mile was 7:00 min/ mile, but… It’s mostly up hill, so the effort was pretty high. My legs were feeling it already. I was drenched with sweat, so I decided to walk the water station to let my legs straighten out and get plenty to drink. After a brief reprieve, I started running again. It felt a little better. Mile 3 was 7:03. That is a pretty easy pace for me, but it didn’t feel that easy. Mile 4 was 7:05. That didn’t feel easy either. My clothes were soaked and sticking too me. I started seeing shirts on the side of the road. Even as my pace was slowing, I still wasn’t getting passed – surprising because there were 400+ runners in this race, and the field was pretty strong. All I knew was I was tiring in a hurry. I came up to another water stop and I walked that one too. One runner passed me as I walked. Where is everyone???

Mile 5 heads back up hill, and it was tough. My 7:48 pace included walking through the water stop, but I also had trouble getting started after the stop. Am I really in this bad shape??? Mile 6 is a doosie… The first part is downhill, but then it’s a run up a gradual hill that gets steeper and steeper and seems like it never ends. 8:21. ugh. It was the slowest mile I ran in a race as far back as 2008 (I didn’t go back any further). The funny thing was that people were walking all around me. Good runners, strong runners – walking. This is bizarre. I’m soaked and it feels like my feet are stuck to the asphalt. I tell myself that it’ll all be over in less than 10 minutes – I hope. at about 6.2 miles I pick up the pace. I feel like I’m flying. I’m passing runners and feeling better – or at least I’m able to convince myself that I am. Funny how running at an average pace of 7:45 felt like I was “flying”. Relative to everyone around me – I was. From the 7 Mile marker to the finish is sort of downhill then back up again and down to the finish line. I put my head down and literally raced to the finish line. The last half mile I was able to hold a 7:02 pace. I crossed in 55:07 – a 7:20 pace. Outside of a Half or Full Marathon – this pace was pathetic for me. I was soaked and exhausted.

Outside the finishing corral, I started talking to other runners and the consensus was unanimous – “Am I glad that’s over”. Everyone was just happy to be off that race course. I saw the results were being posted. I didn’t even want to bother going to look. I waited until 3 pages were up (about 150 finishers) before I went over there. Third page, I was ahead of them. Second page, I was ahead of all of them too. Are you kidding me?? First page. I found my name. 30th place overall. I laughed out loud and then said “how pathetic”. Then I started looking for the Male 40-44 age group competitors – only 2 names ahead of me – another chuckle and another “pathetic”. So, 30th overall and 3rd in my age group. Great results on a tough day. I know the time wasn’t good, and I really beat up my body to get that sub-standard result, but… it was a good finish. So, how humid was it? Afterwards, I waited for the awards ceremony. It was about 75 minutes after I finished racing. I STILL had sweat dripping off of me. My clothes were still soaked. After the awards, I changed and took a 1 mile swim then a 25 mile bike ride. At 4:00, my race clothes were still dripping. I hung them to dry and at 9:00 PM, they were still wet (not damp, wet). Too humid to race, and I’m sure that explains a great deal about my slow time. Even still, the course won on this day.

In 2008, I wrote “Never Again” in my training log after this race. In 2011, I wrote “Should have listened to 2008 – Never Again”. I know that I don’t have it in me to walk away from a challenge like this, so I’m already looking forward to the New Years Day race here, and the Spring Forward run (which should be about 3 weeks before the Boston Marathon). I’ll have to see about Summerfest in 2012 – although I would like a another chance at redemption.

For this race, I used the Mizuno Ronin 2 and a Hammer Gel.

When I signed up for this race, I was really just looking for another race. I entered the Olympic Distance Tri, figuring I’d be in the middle of the Triathlon season. I’m already registered for the Finger Lakes Olympic Distance Triathlon in a few weeks, so this figured to be a great tune up for that race. Things changed as the season progressed for me. My first scheduled triathlon was the Music City Tri in Nashville. That changed to the Shoreline Tri in Hamlin, and that became a Duathlon. Suddenly, I was competing in Duathlons, and doing well in them – better, in fact, than in Triathlons, I was enjoying them more, and, without having to train in all three disciplines, I was becoming better on the bike and the run. So, Tri Dunkirk offered a Duathlon race, and I was able to switch my entry to that race instead.

Leading up to this race, my training was in a weird place. In the absence of a Half Ironman this fall, I had three different races that all became “A” races for me – The Tri Dunkirk DU (because I need a good score for my National USAT DU Ranking), The Finger lakes Tri (because I train there), and the Rochester Half Marathon (because I really want a good time there). So, how does this make my training “Weird”? All three races are spread out over four weeks, and the training for each is very different, and the likelihood of being successful in all three is not good. Up first is the DU, which required a lot of hard, fast running and riding. That’s for me.

Day before the race. I begin my final preparations. I take my Valdora PHX out for a test ride. Race wheels are on. I have some very fond memories of this bike, and I have had some exceptional results on it. This season, though, things have been somewhat different. At the second race of the season, the bike shimmied and shook on a high speed descent. The same at the next three races. Up to about 35 MPH, the bike felt “slippery” and tough to control, but it felt on the edge of out of control at speeds above that. That had me concerned. A few weeks ago, I broke a spoke in a training ride, so I started riding my other tri bike (also a Valdora PHX) in training. It felt MUCH more stable, and gave me some confidence back in my bike handling skills. I decided to take the Race bike out for a test ride last night, just to be sure it was OK. It wasn’t. I rode 10 miles and it was uncomfortably on the edge – even on the flats. It wasn’t working for me. I came home and looked at the two bikes side by side, and while their set up was the same, the trainer’s cock pit was further back – like 3″ further back. Certainly this was making this bike more stable. Too late to do anything about it now, though, so I put the race wheels on the trainer and switched out the brake pads. This was gonna be my “gamer” tomorrow!!

I went to bed early – 9:00. I couldn’t sleep. 10:00. 11:00. Still awake. I have to leave at 3:15. I finally fell asleep, but I woke up to people walking outside at 1:00 and didn’t really get back to sleep. I guess a good night’s sleep is out. Up before the alarm, and out the door at 3:15, i was on my way. I chuckled as I saw three you guys walking home and whooping it up at 3:15AM. That was me 25 years ago, and I wonder if they looked at me driving by and wondered where I went out earlier that night. Nope. I’m already on tomorrow and it’s race day!! I picked up Barry at 3:30 AM (sharp), and off we went for the two hour drive to Dunkirk.

Race Day. We got to the race site while it was still dark – at 5:45 AM. The early start gave the race the atmosphere of a much bigger race. Setting up transition and chatting with other athletes in the pre dawn hours is a neat feeling. Pre race is uneventful, and I get plenty of warm up and some idle chit chat with some other Duathletes. Jim Roche was there. He thanked me for the kind words that I wrote about him in my blog post after the Keuka DU – I was just happy that someone else read it!! Seeing him reminded me that I’d need my “A” game again today. He and I and Barry had a few laughs, then I headed out to warm up – just a few quick strides. It was inspiring watching the swimmers warm up as the sun was rising. It was also somewhat of a relief knowing that I wasn’t in there with them. T minus 3 minutes until we start.

All lined up, this field was pretty small – maybe 25 of us. The size of the field didn’t matter. I was looking to turn in a good performance – a high finish (either overall or in my age group) would be a bonus. 10 seconds to go. 5…4…3…2…1… The horn goes and we’re off! I notice out of my peripheral vision a Black and Lime Green jersey. I think “Barry?” I forgot Jim Roche had the same jersey as Barry. Jim and I run shoulder to shoulder for the first mile. I felt good, so I pulled away. He hung with me, and, as we entered a pier (to run out and back), I was able to see the rest of the field. I was somewhat surprised to see so many still hanging in there despite the 6:15 pace we were running. As we approached the 2 mile mark, I knew I needed to slow down a little – I have over an hour to go, and it’ll be beyond me to hold this effort for that whole time. Jim pulls away. 10 feet turns into 10 yards. We run back along the pier. They are STILL there… WOW. Tough crowd. Jim is 50 yards ahead of me – and he looks strong. We approach the transition area. Jim is 18 seconds ahead of me. The next runner behind me was in 34 seconds after me – a very good run. I was out of transition in 51 seconds. I took my time on purpose to try to recover a little before a hard bike effort. Jim was out in 35 seconds, so he was over 30 seconds ahead of me now. He is also a strong cyclist – reality hit that he would be tough to track down.

There was a long run (maybe 50 yards) to the bike mount line. I had a tough time getting started on the bike. As I ran with the bike to the line, I had visions of stepping on my pre mounted bike shoe, swinging my leg over, pedaling, then getting my feet in without missing a beat. What really happened was my shoes didn’t line up and I had trouble flipping them over. Lost time fiddling with that. I stopped and put my leg over. More lost time. I get the shoe in the right spot and start pedaling. I’m going 13 MPH as I get my feet in. More lost time. For a race that started well, and a game plan that was easy to execute (since I’d practiced it many times), I wasn’t doing so well. A half mile in and I’m still struggling to get started. OK. Now I’m ready. I pedal hard. My speed goes up – instantly. Since the Sprint Tri riders were on the bike course while we were, I had to weave in and out of slower riders. While this didn’t slow me down, it was inconvenient since these riders were all over the road, and the road was not closed to traffic. As we neared the halfway point, I hear someone say “I thought this course was a 20K”. I look and it’s Warren, the athlete who I outran to take third at Keuka. He blew by me on the bike at Keuka, and he was about to do it again. We turn around at a touch over 6.5 miles (a 20K bike should be 12.4 miles). Warren is out like a flash, and I resign to just trying to keep him in sight. By the 9 mile mark, I can no longer see him. I now know that I’m going to have to step it up these last 4 miles AND run hard if I want to catch him. I hammer the last 4 miles. My 38:08 bike split is the 3rd fastest in our race, but almost three full minutes slower than Jim and Warren. It’s pretty clear where I need to focus. I take a quick drink of HEED and a swig of a gel and I head towards transition. Out of the shoes, leg over, to the line, step down and don’t break stride. That’s how it’s done!! I pass 3 riders between the mount line and the entrance to transition.

This is how to dismount!!!

Into transition, there is a guy wandering about with his bike. He’s lost – can’t find his spot. He stops to look around – right in front of my spot. I ask him to move. He doesn’t. I yell. He does. (Sorry for yelling at you, man). Helmet gets unbuckled as I run into transition. Shoes on, grab the visor and shades, and I’m out in 37 seconds.

I didn’t know this at the time, but… Warren was 2:45 faster than me on the bike, 30 seconds faster in transition, but 1:30 ish slower on the first run. All this meant he was about 1:40 ahead of me. I did know that I lost sight of him on the bike, and I could not see him on the run. I picked up my pace. I was able to use the runners from the sprint Triathlon to pull me through the second run. I picked them off one at a time. One mile in, no sign of Warren. As I approached the Pier, I saw him running off the other end. Too much ground to make up in not a far enough distance. Off the pier, and towards the two mile mark, I see Jim Roche coming the other way. I clap for him and urge him on – what a strong race. I look ahead, and unbelievably, I’m gaining on Warren. Perhaps a mile to go and he’s a tenth of a mile ahead of me. It’s still a lot of ground to make up, but I start running hard. Half a mile to go. I’m gaining… quickly. Then, he stops. He what?? He stops with 150 yards to go, grabs his side and turns around. He sees me coming hard, shrugs his shoulders and starts running hard towards the finish line. As I pull into the finishers chute, I see him cross the line eight seconds ahead of me.

Warren came up to me after and told me he wasn’t going to get run down twice by the same guy in the same season. I laughed and told him I sure was trying my hardest to catch him. He laughed too and said if the race was a half mile longer I would have gotten him. I don’t think I needed that much more to reel him in. I was tired, and I started to reflect on my race. I was happy with everything except the first half mile or so of my bike leg. I might have lost 30 seconds or more here. Otherwise, I was passed by one rider, Warren, and I could not catch him. I did not get passed by a single runner after Jim passed me early in the first run. Both of my runs were the second fastest on the day (Jim was faster on both), and my bike split was the third fastest on the day. By my calculations (on my GPS Watch), the run course was 3.25 miles long, and the bike course was 13.1 miles long. My paces, based on these distances were 6:22 for the first run, 6:36 for the second run, and 20.7 MPH on the bike. My total time was 1:21:41, which was about 1:30 faster than I was over a similar distance in Keuka (although the distances were slightly different). Even still, I’ll call it a PR for this distance, and I’ll take the third place overall finish and the age group win.

For this race, I used the Valdora PHX, Mizuno Ronin 2′s, and fuel by Hammer.

This event is another one of my favorites. It was the second triathlon I ever competed in a few years ago, and I remember the town well from my younger days as a junior golfer – Mom and Dad were members at Sodus Bay Heights Golf Club when we were kids. The golf course looks over Sodus Bay and Lake Ontario, and the Triathlons bike course rides past the golf course – kind of like 2 parts of my life colliding at an instant. This event always sells out, and it’s a fairly small field, so I was sure to clear my calendar and register early to ensure a spot.

After the Shoreline Triathlon turned into a Duathlon a few weeks ago, it occurred to me that I had yet to compete in a Triathlon this season. My last Triathlon was 10 months ago in Augusta, Georgia. Worse yet, I have been in the water 8 times since that race. Not that I was apprehensive about the swim – I knew what to expect, and even without the pool time, I was sure I could complete the distance. I was wondering how much my swim performance would impact the rest of my race. Another variable in this equation was the swim conditions – 2009 was a seaweed fest, and 2010 had 55 degree water temperatures. As another variable, Lake Erie was 80 degrees on Friday… Not the same lake, but very similar. 80 degree water temps meant the swim would not be wetsuit legal – that could make the swim a real challenge for me. I had to wait until race day to find out. The last piece of the puzzle was the forecast – 80% chance of heavy rain and severe thunderstorms. Yuck…

Race Day. Fortunately, Mother Nature gave us a reprieve. Mid 60′s, overcast and no rain until later in the day. She also gave us a break on the water temperature – a perfect 72 degrees and hardly a ripple on it. Phew!! Race day started out just like any other day. Jackie and the kids came with me. Adam helped me in transition. I ran into Gibby and Barry in the transition area. The three of us had a hard, fast ride on Thursday evening and I really felt an edge from that workout. I had to hit the men’s room before setting up in transition and a brief warm up. A snag – one stall and no port-a-potties. I stand in line for 30 minutes. There goes my warm up. I grab my wetsuit, and, as I’m looking through my bag, I realize I left my watch at home. Looks like I’m racing this one the old school way – no information, just a good hard effort. Oh well. I head off to the lake.

Getting Body Marked

I get down there, and the first 15 feet of water are seaweed covered. By seaweed covered, I mean a thick, smelly mass of seaweed in varying points of decay spreading outward from the beach. From crunchy by the shoreline to just mushy by the time it was knee deep, this seaweed was pretty gross – I was really glad to have a wetsuit on. Beyond the seaweed, the water was beautiful – It was crystal clear. We could see the bottom, and I could see swimmers all around me. I decided on a different strategy for this swim. I was going to start further up front as opposed to my usual start at the back of the pack. I thought that I’d pass half of those people anyways, and if I start off to the side, by the time I got to the first buoy (about 1/3 of the way through the swim), I’d be with people who swam my speed. Good, plan, but like most of my race plans, I didn’t stick with it. I started quickly. Perhaps too quickly for my level of swim conditioning. Halfway to the first buoy I was out of breath and tired. I slowed my pace. down to breast stroke – already?? Really? Back to swimming. Remember the gameplan? Stay outside to the first buoy… Well, I looked and I was on the inner part of the swim course. No surprise… Right around the first buoy, one side of my goggles started to fill with water. I tried to fix it and swallowed a gallon of water in the process. The rest of the swim was uneventful, almost enjoyable. It was slow and steady with a bit of breast stroke mixed in. I certainly didn’t kill myself in the water. I knew my race was just starting. Running out of the water, I could hear Ellen say “Here is Jim Yeager exiting the water” (thankfully she didn’t add “with a crappy swim time” at the end). I ran through the seaweed, across the beach and into transition. Despite the slow swim, my time was still 75th fastest. I don’t know how, but it was in the top 40% on the day.

Inside the transition area, I pull down my wetsuit. I had a squirt bottle of water to spray off the sand and seaweed off my feet (not good to have that on my feet and then put them into my bike shoes, and, eventually, into my running shoes). As I put on my helmet and try to dry off my feet, I look around and notice that there are still a fair number of bikes still in transition. Maybe my swim wasn’t that slow afterall – uhhh, yeah it was. I chuckle, put my number belt on and I’m off. In and out in 1:14 – one of the fastest transition times of the day.

My race starts... NOW!!! Go get it.

My shoes are already clipped into the pedals. I run with my bike out of the transition area. I pass the mount line , flip my left shoe around, step on it, swing my right leg over, flip that shoe over and I’m riding. I slide my feet in and I’m up to speed in no time. I pass 2 riders in the first 200 yards. Another before the first corner. Three more on the slight uphill section. I’m cruising. The bike course is tough. It’s somewhat uphill in the first 4+ miles, with some sections being a small ring climb and even standing up while climbing. Fortunately, I did have my bike computer on my bike, so I wasn’t completely blind on the bike. Through 1 mile, I was at 20.4 MPH. Through 4 miles, I was at 18.2 MPH. WOW, that’s slow. I catch myself daydreaming about the golf course as I pass it – too many fond memories to recall as I’m gasping for air riding past it at 20+ MPH. Back to reality, I better hammer the rest of the bike. Still, I was passing riders in bunches, but I was more concerned with my performance – not my performance relative to the other racers. From Mile 4 to 6, there is a slight downhill grade, but a slight headwind. Through this section, I averaged 23 MPH. I made the turn at 19.6 MPH. I pass riders one at a time now without anyone passing me. I make the next turn heading back North to the lake – down hill and down wind. Whee!!! I drop to a lower gear. Then another and another. 25MPH, 26MPH, 28MPH. Riders are becoming tougher to pass. I must be moving up in the field. We make a turn to go to Lake road. I’m concerned. I know I’ll hit 30MPH + on this descent, and there is a sharp right turn at the bottom. I gain speed and my bike starts to shimmy and shake like it did in a race earlier this season – not good. Brakes. What a momentum killer. The pavement is wet on that corner. Safely around it and onto Lake Road, I start to ascend the climb that follows. Wait, what is that??? Another rider passed me – first one of the day (as it turned out, it was the only one of the day). Back to the task at hand, this climb and one more. I stand and pedal. After this, I know it’s all downhill for two miles into the transition area. I crest the hill and my average speed is 20.6 MPH. Time to drop the hammer. As I come back into town, I’m flying. Still passing riders as I near transition. I see Gibby starting the run. He looks great!! I holler for him, but he doesn’t hear me. I swing a leg over the saddle as I approach the dismount line. I hit the line, step off the bike and never break stride. I run with the bike into transition. Gibby and I were working on this this week – I wonder if he got it right. I take me feet out of my shoes and take one last look at the computer – 20.9 MPH. That’s a great ride for me. As it turned out, it was the 23rd fastest ride of the day. 37:25 and almost a minute faster than last year.

Feet out of the shoes - let's get ready to RUN!!!

Into T2, I take my helmet off while I’m running with my bike. I rack the bike, have a quick squirt of a gel flask (gel with water), visor and shades on, running shoes on. No watch to worry about, so I’m off. In and out in 52 seconds – a very good transition with a shoe change and a re-fuel. I’m really excited to run. My game plan for the run was the same as the bike – run hard and pick off racers one at a time. My first victim is the guy who passed me on the bike – somehow, that felt like redemption.

Starting the run - Just passing the "uber biker" who passed me on the ride

On the run, there is a short but steep-ish hill just after the first 1/4 mile or so. I slow to ascend it. I pass 5 runners on that climb. We round a corner and there’s a water stop. I don’t need it, so I run through it and take 2 more as I do. I come upon a woman with a hose spraying people down – that feels GREAT! Thank you!! I pass more people. I have no idea how fast I’m going, but I’m not sure if I can go any faster. I round the corner and begin my second loop on the run. Now there are a LOT of people on the run course. A runner passes me on that slight uphill section. I assume he’s on his first loop, but I try to run with him – no chance, but I pass a lot of runners trying to catch him. Finally, I near the start of the second loop, but this time I turn right and head towards the finishing chute. It is suddenly quiet – not many runners around any more. There is one runner a few hundred yards ahead of me, and one coming up on me from behind. I pick up my pace. I hear a woman say “Go get him, Paul”. I know I’m not Paul, so he must be close and gaining. I really pick up the pace. I can see the finish line. I am almost running full out. If he’s going to pass me, he’s going to have to pass my best effort. Into the finishing chute, he’s still behind me – gotcha!! I hear Ellen “welcoming” me to the finish line. The clock says 1:21:46. Minus 5 minutes for my wave- that’s 1:16:46. My run was 21:02 for the 5K. I was really hoping for a sub 21:00 5K, but this will definitely do. This run was the 16th fastest on the day.

Almost Home!!

just finishing with "Paul" in the wings

Wait, 1:16:46?? Holy cow!!! My time for this race last year was 1:16:46 too – exactly the same!! This race had a longer swim, and my ride and run were both faster. On this day, I finished in 27th place overall (out of about 200) and 5th in my age group. Somedays, I wish I could swim…

The best part of the day was here – post race:

All smiles.

For this race, I used my Valdora PHX, a Rocket Science Elite wetsuit, Mizuno Ronin 2′s, and fuel from Hammer.