For some reason there can never be peace and quiet for me before big races. Something always needs to happen to shake things up, usually some freak sickness that goes away a day before the race, leaving me healthy but worried of lingering performance-draining effects. Well, this race was no different.
First, I expected my run to be a total write-off thanks to a bummed knee, so that was hanging over my head right up until the end of the 80km bike leg (yeah, it was only 80km, so not a “real” half iron race). The real problem this time, however, centered around my girlfriend Robin, who was also doing the race with me.
The day before the race we were at the start line for a mandatory meeting and bike check. After getting our bikes from the car and bringing them to the bike check tent, we realized that somewhere between car and bike check dude, one of the pedals from Robin’s bike had magically fallen off. It fell off in a crowd of 600 people all listening intently to this important meeting, so finding it was nigh impossible. So, 15 minutes before the bike store’s closing time and at least 15 minutes of driving away from the bike store, we were off, in an unfamiliar city, racing through the streets trying to make it to a store on time so we could buy a new set of pedals for a race that was 13 hours away.
We made it with about a minute to spare and saved what could have been a very tragic situation, as this race is a)expensive like all long course races and b)a necessary test of our racing skills before Ironman in August. Being unable to compete in this race would have been a pretty harsh blow to Robin so close to the big kahuna.
After that little shakeup, we spent a couple hours driving around Victoria trying to find a restaurant that wasn’t completely full and ended up at a great pasta place close to our hotel, starving, starving so bad. I ate enough for three people. It was great! After a quick car tour of the bike course we got to our hotel and fell asleep, mostly ready for the day ahead.
The weatherman had predicted rain, but race day was just perfect, with ok temperatures and clouds with some sunny breaks. It was a day for PBs.
I got down to the late a few minutes before my wave was set to go and realized that 2km is actually a pretty damn long distance. The large orange balls they use to mark the course went off so far into the distance that I was having trouble seeing them. This was a little disconcerting, but I had faith in my skills and knew it would just take a little time to get through my worst of the three sports.
About 700m into the swim I pulled something in my shoulder, not because I was pulling too hard, but because I had only been in my wetsuit once before this and I wasn’t fully comfortable swimming in it yet and it threw my form off. So the rest of the swim leg was a little painful. I made it out in exactly 40 minutes, not bad for me, but pretty slow compared to everyone else. I had to pee in transition and wasn’t in a really big rush for some reason so I was pretty slow getting on to the bike. After about 30 feet into the bike leg my legs were burning and I realized I had pretty much ZERO power. Score!
I rode along, suffering, and after a few minutes ate a Clif bar I brought with me. After about 20 minutes and some Gatorade I was in business: my legs regained some life and my drive turned on. From this point it was 2.5 hours of passing people and going fast. I estimate that I must have passed about 200 competitors throughout the day, but it was probably more than that based on my swim start time and how I finished compared to everyone else. It might have been more like 300. In any case, I pedaled steady and kept thinking to myself “just reel them in one by one,” and so I did. One or two others passed me on the bike, either slower swimmers and better cyclists than me, or people in the relay teams that started after I did. Passing people is just great for the confidence and I used each person I passed as a slingshot to the next.
As I approached the end of the bike my legs were getting pretty tired. I averaged about 150bpm on the bike which is 5 beats below my aerobic max (calculated using Mark Allen’s method) and a little harder than I probably should have gone. I was still expecting my knee to give out at the start of the run and figured I’d be walking it anyways so I didn’t care too much if I blew myself on the bike.
After a quick shoe change and another pee in transition, I was off on my run. This is where a miracle happened. I hit my perfect form instantly. In every other triathlon I’ve ever done, the run is usually a thing of pain and suffering (both a path to the dark side, as everyone knows), but this time I felt amazing. I hovered at my perfect HR of 155bpm and just cruised along, still passing people, occasionally being passed by the super fast competitors finishing their second lap of the course. At about 13km into the run my knee gave a little twinge that I expected to end my day, but I kept on running and kept it at bay. A Japanese man that I had been keeping pace with for most of the race was in front of me as we neared the end of 20k and I decided to give a final push, crossing the line feeling great and strong at 5 hours 9 minutes.
I couldn’t have been happier with my performance. Well, I would have liked a faster time, say in the 4-hour mark, but as far as body-feel went, it was perfect. If I can have a race like that in August, I will be a happy, happy man. If I don’t have a race like that…well, I can hopefully smile and at least remember what got me there.
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