Today was my first race since Ironman - the Cape Henlopen Duathlon.
The day started out cold, with me catching the alarm 2 minutes before it was to go off: 5:45am. Meyer went with me and we got to the site around 6:45 which meant I had plenty of time to rack my bike and warm up. There wasn't really any transition to set up since all I needed to do was throw off my running shoes and put my helmet on for T1 and just do the reverse for T2.
By the time the race started - 7:45 - the sun was starting to shine and it began to warm up. My pace on the first run was slower than I'd expected. I held back a bit, not wanting to burn up too early, but in retrospect I could have gone a little faster. First run leg: 1.5 miles, 11:16, 7:31 average pace.
T1 went well. I got through in 37 seconds, which was the second fastest individual T1. 2 relay teams were faster by a couple seconds, but since that's just a hand-off of the timing chip, I don't count it.
The bike started out bad. Before I even mounted, I had problems with one of my water bottle cages and dropped a bottle - twice! I finally took off, and settled into a good but challenging pace. At about mile 4 there were 3 speed bumps. Speed bumps?!?!? Well, I took the first one too fast and lost my water bottle, so no more water for the rest of the bike leg. The rest of the bike went well. Thank you to the state trooper who yelled at a car to get it to go (don't know what the driver was thinking) so I could miss hitting it by a couple feet instead of a couple inches. Bike leg: 14 miles, 41:26, 20.3 mph.
T2 went well too. I had a great dismount and only lost a second or two by a guy taking his time getting past my bike rack spot. I got the shoes on quickly and was off in 42 seconds - again, one of the fastest T2 times of the day.
The second run leg was tough at first. I didn't have the jelly legs that so many people get after the bike. I simply had tired legs. I was able to keep a decent pace, however, and actually pick it up for the last mile. I was definitely feeling the effects of not having that water on the bike. Second run leg: 3.1 miles, 22:12, 7:10 average pace.
My overall time was 1:16:11 which was good enough for 5th in my age group and 25th overall.
And as I always do, I came home after the race and took a nap.
Showing posts with label race day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race day. Show all posts
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Ironman Race Report
The alarm was set for 4:00am. But like most days lately, I got up about 15 minutes before the alarm. Actually, I hadn't slept much anyway. The combination of the Badger football win, drunk college kids, and the close proximity of our hotel room window to the street created a less-than-ideal atmosphere for sleep.
With special needs bags, wetsuit, and tire pump in hand, Meyer and I made our way up State Street to the transition area. How quiet the city seemed. The proverbial calm before the storm?
I got all of my pre-race stuff done (gear bags dropped, bottles/nutrition set on bike, tires pumped, body marked, porta-john visited) and hung out with the other athletes in the convention center for a while. Then it was time for a few encouraging words from Meyer and the walk down the helix to the swim start. The helix is actually the circular ramp that goes up the four stories of the parking structure for the convention center. It's a big focus of the Ironman Wisconsin transition.
I got into the water about 15 minutes before the start and just hung out in the water as the pros took off (10 minutes before we age groupers). And for those "in the know," yes, for a moment I was smiling. I watched the clock tick closer to 7:00 and got myself into position. Since I'm not a strong swimmer - and also very slow - I put myself towards the back of the pack right in the middle. This was perfect positioning because when the gun went off at 7:00 on the dot, I avoided the chaos towards the front as 2,406 of us began the swim.
My swim did not start very well. While I avoided the kicking and hitting that (mostly) is unintentional for a mass start, I had some of my usual problem of maintaining a steady breathing rhythm. Once I got to the first turn buoy, around the 1/3-mile point, I started thinking "just get 10 good strokes in." When I did that I thought "ok, now get 12 good ones." Then it was 15. This continued for the remainder of the first lap. I looked at my watch as I started the second lap and realized that I could finish the swim in the time I'd wanted if I kept the same pace. And now that there weren't that many other swimmers around me, I felt more comfortable. The 15 good strokes at a time turned into 30, then 40, then 50. Then I got sick of counting. And that's when I realized I was passing other swimmers. Wow! I'd never done that before.
The announcer's voice got louder. There was the last turn. I kept my pace and headed for the shore. My body was telling me that I was doing well, feeling good. But once I got to the shore, the sudden change of movement (standing upright) surprised me. Luckily there were volunteers there who were grabbing everyone and helping them out of the water.
Official swim time: 1 hour, 54 minutes, 20 seconds. Placing: 2,351 (only 53 people behind me)
I immediately got my wetsuit down to my hips, ran over to the waiting group of volunteers and threw myself on the ground. Two volunteers grabbed the wetsuit and pulled it off my legs in one fluid motion. Back on my feet, the volunteers handed my wetsuit back to me and yelled, "Now go!" I caught sight of Meyer as I headed up (yes, up!) the helix to the transition area. I can imagine the race directors as they were designing the course thinking, "Let's make these people swim 2.4 miles then run UP a giant ramp, four stories before they get to their bikes."
I got to the top, ran into the convention center towards the room with my T1 gear bag. A volunteer in the hallway asked for my race number. I told her, "1227." Then I heard "1227!" being shouted down the hallway several times. When I got to the bag room, a volunteer was right there with my gear bag in hand. And - my first "unexpected goose bump moment" - about 30 volunteers who weren't holding bags for other racers were applauding and cheering. It was incredible.
The volunteer, David, with my bag led me into the changing room, where he dumped the contents of my bag and helped me get ready for the bike leg. It was a good thing he was there because I started having bad stomach cramps and had difficulty bending to fasten the velcro on my shoes. David got me ready, fetched a cup of water for me and sent me on my way. After a quick stop outside of the convention center to have more volunteers slather my arms and neck with sunscreen I ran to the bikes. The "1227" shouts happened again and by the time I got to my bike rack, a volunteer was waiting with my bike, all set to go.
As I headed to the end of the bike lot, a volunteer behind me called my name and told me to look up. There were Mary Beth and Kathy - part of "Team Meloy" - shouting and cheering.
I was still cramping pretty badly when I got on the bike and rode down the helix on the other side of the parking ramp. Within the first mile I started passing other riders. Getting beyond the swim was my big mental hurdle. I knew I could do well on the bike. The cramps continued for the first five miles or so, and they weren't helped by the poor condition of the roads. My first high point of the bike leg was seeing my parents around mile 6.5. My uncle's house is right on the route, so Mom and Dad were there with him and his wife. I think I saw them first. I waved. They cheered. It was the first time I'd seen Mom and Dad on the course. What a thrill.
I got to Mile 14, which is the end of the "stick" that goes into the "lollipop" part of the bike course - the loop that we do twice before heading back to Madison on the stick. This was also where I started my ride on Friday. With increased confidence, I rode well and passed more riders. I was now passing several per mile, which concerned me that I was going to fast, but a look at my bike computer told me that I was going just fine - fast enough but not too fast to worry about conserving energy.
I was now able to start eating since the cramps had partly subsided. I downed a PowerBar Nut Naturals bar, a staple of my diet for the past few months. I also decided to rely on liquid nutrition for a while too. I had two bottles of Accelerade and would be able to get Gatorade at each aid station.
When I did the Eagleman 70.3 back in June I mentioned to a friend something about the high-priced disc wheels that many of the participants had. His reply was, "Doesn't it feel good to pass people who have them?" I couldn't say "yes" because I hadn't passed any of them. Until today. But I soon saw several pass by me.
At about Mile 25 (Mile 67 on the second loop) I saw a motorcycle fly by. I knew what that meant. And soon after I heard the familiar "whoomp, whoomp, whoomp" of a disc wheel as the first-place professional passed by. A few minutes later came the second, then the third, and fourth. They were flying!
Eventually, I got to Old Sauk Road and the hill. The hill that everyone talks about. This is a tough one. It isn't ridiculously steep but it is long. I'd been told to expect a Tour de France-like atmosphere and those reports didn't disappoint. There were names and numbers all over the road in chalk and a bunch of spectators lining each side of the road. Some ran along with our bikes while others had cowbells and noisemakers. One guy was wearing a woman's cheerleader outfit, but he was outdone by the woman next to him wearing a banana costume. I could hear one man cheering for the woman in front of me, and as I passed him he said, "now go get her!"
I wasn't liking the hills too much, having trained on nothing but flat roads in Delaware, but I found that I did most of my passing of other participants on the hills. The spectators helped tremendously, and what surprised me was which cheers really got me going. Heading up another particularly challenging hill, one spectator yelled, "Great cadence, 1227!" followed by another who yelled, "Nice arms, 1227!" (The latter gave me the bigger charge.)
We headed into Verona, which was the most spectator-heavy portion of the bike leg. There was Mom and Dad with Meyer, taking photos and cheering. It was so good to see them. I wondered where the rest of the Team was. I didn't have to wonder very long. A few blocks later I saw the red shirts and hand-lettered signs. I I'd have to have been deaf to not hear their shouts of the Team motto: "No speed limit!!!"
Just before the turn onto the second loop (Mile 56) the first age grouper passed by heading back to Madison. I was envious because he was at Mile 98, but a sense of pride swelled in me because I had not gotten lapped by any of the pro women. (Sexist, I know, but it was still a small victory for me.)
The second loop was a little tougher than the first. I'd now been on my bike for several hours and keeping the mind focused was just as difficult as keeping the body going. I was going up hills slower - still passing some people - but slower than I'd done on the first loop. My nutrition was getting a bit better but was still not where I wanted it to be. (I was trying to take in at least 275 calories per hour.)
I hit Old Sauk Road and the hill again. There weren't as many spectators this time, but now two guys at the base of the hill were shouting, "Welcome back! We missed you!" I smiled back but secretly thought, "thanks, but seeing you once was enough today." The male/female cheerleader was still there, and so was the banana woman.
Suddenly being hungry for a banana, I stopped at the 83-mile aid station for a quick trip to the port-a-john, a water bottle exchange, and a banana. It felt good to be off the saddle a for a couple minutes.
Heading out of the aid station, I did a body check. I was still doing alright. Stomach cramps? Totally gone. Legs? OK. Arms and shoulders? A little fatigued, but still ok. Mind? Hangin' in there. Only a few miles to Verona. That'll give me a boost.
I heard another spectator yell, "Nice muscles!" I looked around to see who she was directing that comment, thinking "maybe I'll just follow those nice muscles for a few miles." But there wasn't anyone else around me. I smiled and passed three more people on the next hill.
Verona, part 2. Mom and Dad weren't where they were before. They'd joined the others and their shouts were even louder. I was feeling great. Only 16 miles to go before on the bike.
The ride back toward Madison was pretty uneventful. Most everyone had settled in by this time so passing or being passed wasn't happening much at all. It seemed like such a short ride back to John Nolan Drive with the convention center drawing near. I could hear more crowds cheering as I headed up the helix (yes, up!) to the transition. I brought my bike to a stop as a volunteer grabbed it, held it steady while I dismounted, and took it away to be racked and I ran into the convention center to change shoes for the run.
Official bike time: 6 hours, 59 minutes, 36 seconds. Bike Place: 1,709
The run started out great! Actually too great. I couldn't slow down to the pace I wanted to start out with. My legs were going a bit too fast. As I ran around the capital square and turned onto State Street, I got my second big unexpected goose bump moment of the day. I knew there'd be crowds on State Street but I was completely unprepared for the thousands of spectators and the deafening volume of their cheers. It was astounding!
The first couple miles felt good. I was looking forward to Mile 3. My pace quickened a bit as I saw it. Right in front of me was Camp Randall. I turned to the right and headed into the stadium where my beloved Badgers play. But wait! Where is everyone?!? The stadium was empty. Running around the field was kind of cool, but now seemed anti-climatic.
As I headed towards the Lakeshore Path I was still feeling great. I walked through the aid stations, which had water, Gatorade, cola, pretzels, Power Bars, gels, you name it! But right after Mile 5 cam the hill on Observatory Drive. Wow! I decided it would be best to conserve my energy and walk up it. I looked around and most people were walking. I looked at calves, where everyone had their age written. Good! There's a 23-year-old walking. This 40-year-old will keep up with him!
We headed around past the Helen White Library - a good social spot during college days - and onto Park Street. Library Mall and State Street is just up ahead. The crowds on this end of State Street were just as big and perhaps even louder than at the other end. And there was the team. Mom, Meyer and Julie were all leaning out to get photos. The others were going nuts!
I hit the first turn-around (Mile 6.5) on a high.
Heading out Lakeshore Path in the other direction, I came up on a woman in a blue shirt. It had "American Cancer Society" printed on it, and she had pinned several ribbons on it, obviously representing loved ones in whose honor or memory she was competing. The best part was that she had also written on it in big letters, "Suck it, cancer." It was the best shirt of the day.
Throughout the day, I'd been looking for the "Janus signs." Janus, the investment company, had set up the Janus Inspiration Tent for several days before the race. They provided supplies for anyone to make a sign for any competitor and the Janus folks would place it on the route. I was already past Mile 8 on the run and hadn't seen any. Then, just up ahead, I saw one, and another one right next to it, and a third and fourth. For two solid miles, these incredible signs lined the course. It brought tears to my eyes (and as I write this, I find myself feeling the same emotions all over again.)
Right in the middle of all of these signs, we crossed what looked like a timing pad, but instead it was connected to a huge electronic sign. I looked up and saw on the sign, "D. Meloy #1227 Go Schmoopie" (Don't ask. It's an old Seinfeld thing.) Near to the Janus Inspiration Tent was another tent with kiosks for people to enter their good wishes - or lines from old TV shows - to provide an extra jolt of energy. It worked. Thanks, Meyer!
Now I'm headed back the way I came and still feeling pretty good although I've slowed down a bit. I round the corner on Henry Street and hear the crowds again on State. It is still an amazing sight. As I head around the capital square again, the guy running next to me speeds up and heads toward the right side chute. That's the finish line chute. I head to the left - the one where you turn around and do those 13.1 miles all over again.
The second loop is more of the same, only slower. At mile 15 my body starts to rebel. My feet are starting to burn. My calves, knees, quads, hamstrings, glutes, low back, neck and shoulders are all starting to hurt. My stomach is giving me problems. the only real food I've had is a banana. Everything else has been energy bars, energy drinks, and energy gels - all of which aren't helping much with my energy now.
This is when I start to walk. It's the only way to get through the hurt. I tried to keep my speed up by walking to the next cone, then jogging for two cones, walking for one, jogging for two.
The hill again. This time everyone is walking. The sun is starting to set, but there's State Street again. And there's the Team again. This time they hold out their hands for a high five. It really lifts my spirits. As I hit Dad's hand he says, "One more hour 'til you're an Ironman!" For the second time on the run my eyes teared up.
Six miles to go. I'm walking in the dark and my walk one, jog two (lampposts now) has turned into walk 2, jog one. There's the electronic message board again, and even though I know it's coming, I still smile (and blush a little).
Now I just want the race to be done. I make it past Camp Randall for the last time, past the last few aid stations, and around the corner of Henry Street. Nearing State Street I start to get chills - not because of my body shutting down, but rather from the excitement. The crowds are still there just as animated as ever. There's a guy walking next to me. He's done several Ironmans and tells me to enjoy every minute. Even though my entire body hurts, I am enjoying it. Every minute.
I can hear the crowds at the finish line. It's like nothing I've ever heard before.
I turn a corner and hear, "You're almost there!"
I turn another corner and get a burst of energy. The crowds have induced an adrenaline rush like I've never felt. I'm no longer walking, no longer jogging. I'm in a full-out run. The pain is completely gone. And I know I'm grinning ear to ear.
The cheers are thunderous and I can't understand a thing. I turn the final corner and see the finish. I'm savoring every moment. I run to the right side of the chute and high five half a dozen spectators. Then to the left for half a dozen more. Then back to the right. I'm told later that over the speakers was heard, "Daniel Meloy, you are an IRONMAN!" I never heard it, but I didn't need to. I'd crossed the finish line.
Official run time: 5 hours, 22 minutes, 17 seconds. Run place: 1,300.
A volunteer named Rebecca put her arm around me and guided me, making sure I was ok. OK? I'm flying high! I got my finisher medal as a volunteer smiled and said, "congratulations." I got my finisher hat as another volunteer smiled and said, "congratulations." I got my finisher t-shirt. That's right, another smile and another congrats. Finally, Rebecca walked me to get my official finisher photo. Before she left me to go help another finisher she said, "You're awesome. You're an Ironman." They were the sweetest words I heard all day.
I turned around and saw the Team - Mom, Dad, Meyer, Julie and Lisa were able to stick it out until the end. I was so happy to share this moment with them. Wow! What a day they'd had too.
Meyer had picked up my bike and gear bags while I was out on the run so all we had to do was go back to the hotel (thankfully a short walk) where Meyer, Julie, Lisa and I shared some celebratory champagne. A shower and a quick trip across the street to the Brathaus for a much-anticipated beer preceded bedtime.
My official time was 14 hours, 34 minutes and 41 seconds. My place was 1,667 (which means I passed 684 people on the bike and run.)
It is hard to put into words the emotions I felt throughout the day. Perhaps it is because it was a day filled with nearly every emotion known. While someday I may replicate the feat of completing an Ironman race, I won't ever be able to replicate the feeling of crossing that finish line for the first time. It is a moment I will never forget.
My support team - Mom, Dad, Meyer, Julie, Lisa, Mary Beth and Kathy - was simply amazing. I couldn't ask for better family and friends.
What's next? I'm enjoying some much-needed rest, but will continue training for a marathon in November. After that, I'll re-evaluate my plans for next year but I know 2010 will have a few good racing challenges.
I'm looking forward to them!
With special needs bags, wetsuit, and tire pump in hand, Meyer and I made our way up State Street to the transition area. How quiet the city seemed. The proverbial calm before the storm?
I got all of my pre-race stuff done (gear bags dropped, bottles/nutrition set on bike, tires pumped, body marked, porta-john visited) and hung out with the other athletes in the convention center for a while. Then it was time for a few encouraging words from Meyer and the walk down the helix to the swim start. The helix is actually the circular ramp that goes up the four stories of the parking structure for the convention center. It's a big focus of the Ironman Wisconsin transition.
I got into the water about 15 minutes before the start and just hung out in the water as the pros took off (10 minutes before we age groupers). And for those "in the know," yes, for a moment I was smiling. I watched the clock tick closer to 7:00 and got myself into position. Since I'm not a strong swimmer - and also very slow - I put myself towards the back of the pack right in the middle. This was perfect positioning because when the gun went off at 7:00 on the dot, I avoided the chaos towards the front as 2,406 of us began the swim.
My swim did not start very well. While I avoided the kicking and hitting that (mostly) is unintentional for a mass start, I had some of my usual problem of maintaining a steady breathing rhythm. Once I got to the first turn buoy, around the 1/3-mile point, I started thinking "just get 10 good strokes in." When I did that I thought "ok, now get 12 good ones." Then it was 15. This continued for the remainder of the first lap. I looked at my watch as I started the second lap and realized that I could finish the swim in the time I'd wanted if I kept the same pace. And now that there weren't that many other swimmers around me, I felt more comfortable. The 15 good strokes at a time turned into 30, then 40, then 50. Then I got sick of counting. And that's when I realized I was passing other swimmers. Wow! I'd never done that before.
The announcer's voice got louder. There was the last turn. I kept my pace and headed for the shore. My body was telling me that I was doing well, feeling good. But once I got to the shore, the sudden change of movement (standing upright) surprised me. Luckily there were volunteers there who were grabbing everyone and helping them out of the water.
Official swim time: 1 hour, 54 minutes, 20 seconds. Placing: 2,351 (only 53 people behind me)
I immediately got my wetsuit down to my hips, ran over to the waiting group of volunteers and threw myself on the ground. Two volunteers grabbed the wetsuit and pulled it off my legs in one fluid motion. Back on my feet, the volunteers handed my wetsuit back to me and yelled, "Now go!" I caught sight of Meyer as I headed up (yes, up!) the helix to the transition area. I can imagine the race directors as they were designing the course thinking, "Let's make these people swim 2.4 miles then run UP a giant ramp, four stories before they get to their bikes."
I got to the top, ran into the convention center towards the room with my T1 gear bag. A volunteer in the hallway asked for my race number. I told her, "1227." Then I heard "1227!" being shouted down the hallway several times. When I got to the bag room, a volunteer was right there with my gear bag in hand. And - my first "unexpected goose bump moment" - about 30 volunteers who weren't holding bags for other racers were applauding and cheering. It was incredible.
The volunteer, David, with my bag led me into the changing room, where he dumped the contents of my bag and helped me get ready for the bike leg. It was a good thing he was there because I started having bad stomach cramps and had difficulty bending to fasten the velcro on my shoes. David got me ready, fetched a cup of water for me and sent me on my way. After a quick stop outside of the convention center to have more volunteers slather my arms and neck with sunscreen I ran to the bikes. The "1227" shouts happened again and by the time I got to my bike rack, a volunteer was waiting with my bike, all set to go.
As I headed to the end of the bike lot, a volunteer behind me called my name and told me to look up. There were Mary Beth and Kathy - part of "Team Meloy" - shouting and cheering.
I was still cramping pretty badly when I got on the bike and rode down the helix on the other side of the parking ramp. Within the first mile I started passing other riders. Getting beyond the swim was my big mental hurdle. I knew I could do well on the bike. The cramps continued for the first five miles or so, and they weren't helped by the poor condition of the roads. My first high point of the bike leg was seeing my parents around mile 6.5. My uncle's house is right on the route, so Mom and Dad were there with him and his wife. I think I saw them first. I waved. They cheered. It was the first time I'd seen Mom and Dad on the course. What a thrill.
I got to Mile 14, which is the end of the "stick" that goes into the "lollipop" part of the bike course - the loop that we do twice before heading back to Madison on the stick. This was also where I started my ride on Friday. With increased confidence, I rode well and passed more riders. I was now passing several per mile, which concerned me that I was going to fast, but a look at my bike computer told me that I was going just fine - fast enough but not too fast to worry about conserving energy.
I was now able to start eating since the cramps had partly subsided. I downed a PowerBar Nut Naturals bar, a staple of my diet for the past few months. I also decided to rely on liquid nutrition for a while too. I had two bottles of Accelerade and would be able to get Gatorade at each aid station.
When I did the Eagleman 70.3 back in June I mentioned to a friend something about the high-priced disc wheels that many of the participants had. His reply was, "Doesn't it feel good to pass people who have them?" I couldn't say "yes" because I hadn't passed any of them. Until today. But I soon saw several pass by me.
At about Mile 25 (Mile 67 on the second loop) I saw a motorcycle fly by. I knew what that meant. And soon after I heard the familiar "whoomp, whoomp, whoomp" of a disc wheel as the first-place professional passed by. A few minutes later came the second, then the third, and fourth. They were flying!
Eventually, I got to Old Sauk Road and the hill. The hill that everyone talks about. This is a tough one. It isn't ridiculously steep but it is long. I'd been told to expect a Tour de France-like atmosphere and those reports didn't disappoint. There were names and numbers all over the road in chalk and a bunch of spectators lining each side of the road. Some ran along with our bikes while others had cowbells and noisemakers. One guy was wearing a woman's cheerleader outfit, but he was outdone by the woman next to him wearing a banana costume. I could hear one man cheering for the woman in front of me, and as I passed him he said, "now go get her!"
I wasn't liking the hills too much, having trained on nothing but flat roads in Delaware, but I found that I did most of my passing of other participants on the hills. The spectators helped tremendously, and what surprised me was which cheers really got me going. Heading up another particularly challenging hill, one spectator yelled, "Great cadence, 1227!" followed by another who yelled, "Nice arms, 1227!" (The latter gave me the bigger charge.)
We headed into Verona, which was the most spectator-heavy portion of the bike leg. There was Mom and Dad with Meyer, taking photos and cheering. It was so good to see them. I wondered where the rest of the Team was. I didn't have to wonder very long. A few blocks later I saw the red shirts and hand-lettered signs. I I'd have to have been deaf to not hear their shouts of the Team motto: "No speed limit!!!"
Just before the turn onto the second loop (Mile 56) the first age grouper passed by heading back to Madison. I was envious because he was at Mile 98, but a sense of pride swelled in me because I had not gotten lapped by any of the pro women. (Sexist, I know, but it was still a small victory for me.)
The second loop was a little tougher than the first. I'd now been on my bike for several hours and keeping the mind focused was just as difficult as keeping the body going. I was going up hills slower - still passing some people - but slower than I'd done on the first loop. My nutrition was getting a bit better but was still not where I wanted it to be. (I was trying to take in at least 275 calories per hour.)
I hit Old Sauk Road and the hill again. There weren't as many spectators this time, but now two guys at the base of the hill were shouting, "Welcome back! We missed you!" I smiled back but secretly thought, "thanks, but seeing you once was enough today." The male/female cheerleader was still there, and so was the banana woman.
Suddenly being hungry for a banana, I stopped at the 83-mile aid station for a quick trip to the port-a-john, a water bottle exchange, and a banana. It felt good to be off the saddle a for a couple minutes.
Heading out of the aid station, I did a body check. I was still doing alright. Stomach cramps? Totally gone. Legs? OK. Arms and shoulders? A little fatigued, but still ok. Mind? Hangin' in there. Only a few miles to Verona. That'll give me a boost.
I heard another spectator yell, "Nice muscles!" I looked around to see who she was directing that comment, thinking "maybe I'll just follow those nice muscles for a few miles." But there wasn't anyone else around me. I smiled and passed three more people on the next hill.
Verona, part 2. Mom and Dad weren't where they were before. They'd joined the others and their shouts were even louder. I was feeling great. Only 16 miles to go before on the bike.
The ride back toward Madison was pretty uneventful. Most everyone had settled in by this time so passing or being passed wasn't happening much at all. It seemed like such a short ride back to John Nolan Drive with the convention center drawing near. I could hear more crowds cheering as I headed up the helix (yes, up!) to the transition. I brought my bike to a stop as a volunteer grabbed it, held it steady while I dismounted, and took it away to be racked and I ran into the convention center to change shoes for the run.
Official bike time: 6 hours, 59 minutes, 36 seconds. Bike Place: 1,709
The run started out great! Actually too great. I couldn't slow down to the pace I wanted to start out with. My legs were going a bit too fast. As I ran around the capital square and turned onto State Street, I got my second big unexpected goose bump moment of the day. I knew there'd be crowds on State Street but I was completely unprepared for the thousands of spectators and the deafening volume of their cheers. It was astounding!
The first couple miles felt good. I was looking forward to Mile 3. My pace quickened a bit as I saw it. Right in front of me was Camp Randall. I turned to the right and headed into the stadium where my beloved Badgers play. But wait! Where is everyone?!? The stadium was empty. Running around the field was kind of cool, but now seemed anti-climatic.
As I headed towards the Lakeshore Path I was still feeling great. I walked through the aid stations, which had water, Gatorade, cola, pretzels, Power Bars, gels, you name it! But right after Mile 5 cam the hill on Observatory Drive. Wow! I decided it would be best to conserve my energy and walk up it. I looked around and most people were walking. I looked at calves, where everyone had their age written. Good! There's a 23-year-old walking. This 40-year-old will keep up with him!
We headed around past the Helen White Library - a good social spot during college days - and onto Park Street. Library Mall and State Street is just up ahead. The crowds on this end of State Street were just as big and perhaps even louder than at the other end. And there was the team. Mom, Meyer and Julie were all leaning out to get photos. The others were going nuts!
I hit the first turn-around (Mile 6.5) on a high.
Heading out Lakeshore Path in the other direction, I came up on a woman in a blue shirt. It had "American Cancer Society" printed on it, and she had pinned several ribbons on it, obviously representing loved ones in whose honor or memory she was competing. The best part was that she had also written on it in big letters, "Suck it, cancer." It was the best shirt of the day.
Throughout the day, I'd been looking for the "Janus signs." Janus, the investment company, had set up the Janus Inspiration Tent for several days before the race. They provided supplies for anyone to make a sign for any competitor and the Janus folks would place it on the route. I was already past Mile 8 on the run and hadn't seen any. Then, just up ahead, I saw one, and another one right next to it, and a third and fourth. For two solid miles, these incredible signs lined the course. It brought tears to my eyes (and as I write this, I find myself feeling the same emotions all over again.)
Right in the middle of all of these signs, we crossed what looked like a timing pad, but instead it was connected to a huge electronic sign. I looked up and saw on the sign, "D. Meloy #1227 Go Schmoopie" (Don't ask. It's an old Seinfeld thing.) Near to the Janus Inspiration Tent was another tent with kiosks for people to enter their good wishes - or lines from old TV shows - to provide an extra jolt of energy. It worked. Thanks, Meyer!
Now I'm headed back the way I came and still feeling pretty good although I've slowed down a bit. I round the corner on Henry Street and hear the crowds again on State. It is still an amazing sight. As I head around the capital square again, the guy running next to me speeds up and heads toward the right side chute. That's the finish line chute. I head to the left - the one where you turn around and do those 13.1 miles all over again.
The second loop is more of the same, only slower. At mile 15 my body starts to rebel. My feet are starting to burn. My calves, knees, quads, hamstrings, glutes, low back, neck and shoulders are all starting to hurt. My stomach is giving me problems. the only real food I've had is a banana. Everything else has been energy bars, energy drinks, and energy gels - all of which aren't helping much with my energy now.
This is when I start to walk. It's the only way to get through the hurt. I tried to keep my speed up by walking to the next cone, then jogging for two cones, walking for one, jogging for two.
The hill again. This time everyone is walking. The sun is starting to set, but there's State Street again. And there's the Team again. This time they hold out their hands for a high five. It really lifts my spirits. As I hit Dad's hand he says, "One more hour 'til you're an Ironman!" For the second time on the run my eyes teared up.
Six miles to go. I'm walking in the dark and my walk one, jog two (lampposts now) has turned into walk 2, jog one. There's the electronic message board again, and even though I know it's coming, I still smile (and blush a little).
Now I just want the race to be done. I make it past Camp Randall for the last time, past the last few aid stations, and around the corner of Henry Street. Nearing State Street I start to get chills - not because of my body shutting down, but rather from the excitement. The crowds are still there just as animated as ever. There's a guy walking next to me. He's done several Ironmans and tells me to enjoy every minute. Even though my entire body hurts, I am enjoying it. Every minute.
I can hear the crowds at the finish line. It's like nothing I've ever heard before.
I turn a corner and hear, "You're almost there!"
I turn another corner and get a burst of energy. The crowds have induced an adrenaline rush like I've never felt. I'm no longer walking, no longer jogging. I'm in a full-out run. The pain is completely gone. And I know I'm grinning ear to ear.
The cheers are thunderous and I can't understand a thing. I turn the final corner and see the finish. I'm savoring every moment. I run to the right side of the chute and high five half a dozen spectators. Then to the left for half a dozen more. Then back to the right. I'm told later that over the speakers was heard, "Daniel Meloy, you are an IRONMAN!" I never heard it, but I didn't need to. I'd crossed the finish line.
Official run time: 5 hours, 22 minutes, 17 seconds. Run place: 1,300.
A volunteer named Rebecca put her arm around me and guided me, making sure I was ok. OK? I'm flying high! I got my finisher medal as a volunteer smiled and said, "congratulations." I got my finisher hat as another volunteer smiled and said, "congratulations." I got my finisher t-shirt. That's right, another smile and another congrats. Finally, Rebecca walked me to get my official finisher photo. Before she left me to go help another finisher she said, "You're awesome. You're an Ironman." They were the sweetest words I heard all day.
I turned around and saw the Team - Mom, Dad, Meyer, Julie and Lisa were able to stick it out until the end. I was so happy to share this moment with them. Wow! What a day they'd had too.
Meyer had picked up my bike and gear bags while I was out on the run so all we had to do was go back to the hotel (thankfully a short walk) where Meyer, Julie, Lisa and I shared some celebratory champagne. A shower and a quick trip across the street to the Brathaus for a much-anticipated beer preceded bedtime.
My official time was 14 hours, 34 minutes and 41 seconds. My place was 1,667 (which means I passed 684 people on the bike and run.)
It is hard to put into words the emotions I felt throughout the day. Perhaps it is because it was a day filled with nearly every emotion known. While someday I may replicate the feat of completing an Ironman race, I won't ever be able to replicate the feeling of crossing that finish line for the first time. It is a moment I will never forget.
My support team - Mom, Dad, Meyer, Julie, Lisa, Mary Beth and Kathy - was simply amazing. I couldn't ask for better family and friends.
What's next? I'm enjoying some much-needed rest, but will continue training for a marathon in November. After that, I'll re-evaluate my plans for next year but I know 2010 will have a few good racing challenges.
I'm looking forward to them!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
I Won! (sorta...kinda)
This morning was the annual Jungle Jim's 5k Splash at Jungle Jim's Waterpark. It's a popular race because the water park opens for the runners after the race, so there's a lot of water sliding and lazy rivering.
I started out way too fast and had a 6:06 first mile, so I slowed it down a bit, knowing that I wouldn't be able to maintain that kind of pace. I gave it my all and ended up with a 19:55 finish - just 3 seconds off my PR from last Sunday.
When they posted the results, I found that I was 13th overall, and even though I had the second fastest time in my age group, the guy who was first received the Masters champion award which bumped me up to first. So I won....kinda.....sorta.
After lots of stretching I felt pretty good. And after a shower, an omelette, hash browns, bacon, and toast, I'm feeling much better!
I'm going to nap and prepare for a big training day tomorrow.
I started out way too fast and had a 6:06 first mile, so I slowed it down a bit, knowing that I wouldn't be able to maintain that kind of pace. I gave it my all and ended up with a 19:55 finish - just 3 seconds off my PR from last Sunday.
When they posted the results, I found that I was 13th overall, and even though I had the second fastest time in my age group, the guy who was first received the Masters champion award which bumped me up to first. So I won....kinda.....sorta.
After lots of stretching I felt pretty good. And after a shower, an omelette, hash browns, bacon, and toast, I'm feeling much better!
I'm going to nap and prepare for a big training day tomorrow.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
12 Weeks
Lately it seems like I've only been posting after races, and I guess today is no different.
Last week I felt pretty good after Eagleman. My training was a little sluggish, though, until Saturday when I went running with Meyer. Yes, Meyer. After seeing Eagleman, Meyer decided to start running, so Friday night we went to the Rehoboth Beach Running Company to get him shoes and Saturday morning we went for a run. I was supposed to do a 10 minute warm-up, 5-mile test set, and 10-minute cool-down. My Garmin's batteries were low, so I wasn't going to be able to do the test set and record my mile splits or heart rate, so I decided to do the warm-up with Meyer (who did very well and went 2 miles) and the stepped it up for the next 5 (in the rain) and then the cool down (also in the rain.)
Today I ran the Father's Day 5k. I was feeling a little tight (not enough stretching after yesterday's run) but surprised myself. I held a great pace and ended up with a Personal Record, going under 20 minutes for the first time. 19:53 was good enough for 3rd place in my age group (the trophy is on my desk) and 18th overall (out of I'm guessing about 270).
I wrote a couple emails tonight to start assembling my moral support team for Ironman which is only - holy s#%@ - 12 weeks away!
Time to get crackin'!
Last week I felt pretty good after Eagleman. My training was a little sluggish, though, until Saturday when I went running with Meyer. Yes, Meyer. After seeing Eagleman, Meyer decided to start running, so Friday night we went to the Rehoboth Beach Running Company to get him shoes and Saturday morning we went for a run. I was supposed to do a 10 minute warm-up, 5-mile test set, and 10-minute cool-down. My Garmin's batteries were low, so I wasn't going to be able to do the test set and record my mile splits or heart rate, so I decided to do the warm-up with Meyer (who did very well and went 2 miles) and the stepped it up for the next 5 (in the rain) and then the cool down (also in the rain.)
Today I ran the Father's Day 5k. I was feeling a little tight (not enough stretching after yesterday's run) but surprised myself. I held a great pace and ended up with a Personal Record, going under 20 minutes for the first time. 19:53 was good enough for 3rd place in my age group (the trophy is on my desk) and 18th overall (out of I'm guessing about 270).
I wrote a couple emails tonight to start assembling my moral support team for Ironman which is only - holy s#%@ - 12 weeks away!
Time to get crackin'!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Eagleman 70.3
PRE-RACE
All of the usual pre-race “administrative” stuff – packet pick-up, bike racking, scouting the course and transition entrances/exits, etc. was taken care of Saturday which made things much easier for Sunday morning. Meyer and I got to the race site around 5:30, and I got my transition area set up. I went for a short jog to wake up, warm-up, and clear my head. The clearing the head part didn’t work because it was then that my jitters started getting the best of me. My stomach was telling me it didn’t want to race.
SWIM
We had an in-water start, which I much prefer to a beach start. The pros went off at 6:40, followed by the 55+ men, 50+ women, and paratriathletes at 6:45. My wave was next at 7:00. My friend Russ was in the same wave, and just before we went into the water, I saw another old friend whom I hadn’t seen in about 5 years. There were about 200 or so men in my wave and I positioned myself so that I wouldn’t get caught up in the flailing arms and legs chaos that always goes on. But within the first 100 feet my stomach started screaming at me and I almost tossed it right in the water. Instead, I got psyched out and nearly hyperventilated. The only way to catch my breath was to roll over onto my back and backstroke. I never regained my composure in the water and spent nearly the entire 1.2 miles of the swim on my back. I slogged through it and finally reached T1.
BIKE
The bike started out completely opposite the swim. The sky was overcast and there was almost no wind, which made for a very good pace. Meyer and I had driven the course the day before so I knew what to expect. My only problem was that my stomach was still acting up and could only tolerate one bar and two gels during the entire 56 miles of cycling. I started passing a few of those people who’d passed me in the water, so I felt pretty good about that. I also started to learn to hate the “whooomp, whooomp, whooomp” sound of disc wheels coming from behind and passing me. (When I mentioned this to my friend Rick after the race, he said, “Yeah, but isn’t it great when you pass them?” Ummmmm yeah, Rick. Like that really happened to me.) About halfway through the bike, the wind decided to pick up and my speed dropped, but luckily so did everyone else’s. Right around mile 40 both of my knees and my right ankle began to hurt. With only 16 miles left, I figured I would just have to “get through it.” Which I did, finishing the bike in a respectable 3 hours (give or take a few minutes.)
RUN
The skies had cleared up and the sun was shining, so it was going to be a hot run. I started out fine, but the right knee pain flared up again – right away. So most of the run was done as a jog/walk – jog until the knees hurts too much, then walk until it doesn’t. It made for a much longer run time than I had planned on, but it was the best way to finish without causing serious damage. The run course was an out-and-back, so I was able to catch Rick, Patrick, and Russ on the way out and Jesse, Amy and Mary Beth on the way back. Somehow I missed Liz, Erik, and Tara. The highlight of the run was the front yard party (obviously the 20 or so spectators there had been partying since the race began) at mile 2 and 11. They had a big slip-n-slide that they were trying to get racer to do. And a few did, much to the drunken delight of the partiers. I passed on it, fearing that once I did it, I wouldn’t want to get back up. I kept up my jog/walk to the final turn and could hear the cheers of Meyer and all the other Tri-Delaware folks who’d finished before me. Crossing the finish line was a great feeling, even though I hadn’t finished in the time I’d wanted.
POST-RACE
My stomach slowly returned back to normal, and I was able to down some food. Surprisingly, the part of me that hurt the most was my sunburned skin (since my sunscreen was all either in the
This morning I woke up expecting to be sore and barely able to move. Much to my surprise, I wasn’t nearly as sore as I thought I’d be. Granted, I do feel a bit beat up, but not as much as I did the day after last November’s marathon. This time I can actually go down stairs facing forward!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Masser 5-Miler
Another Sunday in Rehoboth = another race.
Yesterday was the annual Masser 5-Miler, one of the more popular races in the Seashore Striders series because in order to complete the series, you have to run one of the two 5-mile races (in addition to running a number of their 5k's). Since the other 5-miler is always the last weekend in July - one of the hottest of the year - a lot of people do the Masser.
I felt ok before the race, although it seemed like the air was a little heavy. When everyone lined up to start I placed myself in the middle of the pack which was a mistake. When the gun went off I spent the first 1/8 of a mile or so trying to get around runners in front of me. I finally got free and settled into a pace, which was - as usual - too fast. My first mile was 6:35. I would have loved to keep that pace for the entire race, but my legs just wouldn't go. I kept it steady and finished in 34 minutes, 30 seconds - good enough for 33rd place overall (our of 224 runners) and 10th in my age group. And for the second week in a row, I achieved a personal best - beating my 5-miler time from last year by nearly 3 minutes.
Now the training push continues for Eagleman on June 14. No races between now and then, so all of my energy will be focused on that.
Yesterday was the annual Masser 5-Miler, one of the more popular races in the Seashore Striders series because in order to complete the series, you have to run one of the two 5-mile races (in addition to running a number of their 5k's). Since the other 5-miler is always the last weekend in July - one of the hottest of the year - a lot of people do the Masser.
I felt ok before the race, although it seemed like the air was a little heavy. When everyone lined up to start I placed myself in the middle of the pack which was a mistake. When the gun went off I spent the first 1/8 of a mile or so trying to get around runners in front of me. I finally got free and settled into a pace, which was - as usual - too fast. My first mile was 6:35. I would have loved to keep that pace for the entire race, but my legs just wouldn't go. I kept it steady and finished in 34 minutes, 30 seconds - good enough for 33rd place overall (our of 224 runners) and 10th in my age group. And for the second week in a row, I achieved a personal best - beating my 5-miler time from last year by nearly 3 minutes.
Now the training push continues for Eagleman on June 14. No races between now and then, so all of my energy will be focused on that.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sometimes Stupidity Pays Off
Today was the running of the Delaware Half-Marathon, and I was all set to compete in it until last Thursday. That's when I realized that I hadn't registered for it. I looked online and saw that the race was full and registration was closed. Ugh!
I figured I could just go out and run 13 miles at race pace, but after talking with my coach, I decided to run a 5k race, with a 1-mile warm up and 3-mile cool down as my Sunday workout.
So this morning, in a steady drizzle, I joined about 100 other runners and walkers in the first Diamondback Dash to help raise money and awareness to help protect the Diamondback Terrapin, which lives in the area and around this time of year tries to cross the very busy Route 1 to lay eggs.
I positioned myself right at the front for the start and after about the first quarter mile, I was surprised to find myself in 3rd place. I went out a little too fast on the first mile (6 minutes, 19 seconds) and as I slowed down a bit, a couple other runners caught me. I held my place through the rest of the race, covering each of the 2nd and 3rd miles in 6 minutes, 40 seconds. I poured it on at the end and finished with a time of 20:12 - 6th place overall and 3rd in my age group.
This is the first time I've placed in the top 3 in my age group and is a personal best time for me for a 5k (at least since high school, but who remembers back that far?).
My coach noted in my training program that the next 12 days are going to be very tough and I need to get all the sleep I can get. I think I'll start now with a well-earned nap.
I figured I could just go out and run 13 miles at race pace, but after talking with my coach, I decided to run a 5k race, with a 1-mile warm up and 3-mile cool down as my Sunday workout.
So this morning, in a steady drizzle, I joined about 100 other runners and walkers in the first Diamondback Dash to help raise money and awareness to help protect the Diamondback Terrapin, which lives in the area and around this time of year tries to cross the very busy Route 1 to lay eggs.
I positioned myself right at the front for the start and after about the first quarter mile, I was surprised to find myself in 3rd place. I went out a little too fast on the first mile (6 minutes, 19 seconds) and as I slowed down a bit, a couple other runners caught me. I held my place through the rest of the race, covering each of the 2nd and 3rd miles in 6 minutes, 40 seconds. I poured it on at the end and finished with a time of 20:12 - 6th place overall and 3rd in my age group.
This is the first time I've placed in the top 3 in my age group and is a personal best time for me for a 5k (at least since high school, but who remembers back that far?).
My coach noted in my training program that the next 12 days are going to be very tough and I need to get all the sleep I can get. I think I'll start now with a well-earned nap.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
USAT Dualthon National Championships Race Report
Race Report:
(Race results and times haven't been posted yet. I have a rough idea of my times, but I'm not going to put them here until I see the official times.)
FRIDAY
The plan was to drive into DC Friday night and stay at my friend Tracy's house so the drive down to Richmond wouldn't be too long on Saturday. I failed to plan, however, for all the last-minute things I needed to do (including installing the new computer, practicing transitions, etc.) so time got away Friday night and I decided to get up early Saturday morning and drive the entire distance.
SATURDAY
The alarm went off at 4:30 Saturday morning and I was in the car and on my way by 5:00. An uneventful and relatively quick drive got me to Richmond around 9:30. I got an early check-in to my hotel and unpacked my stuff. When I took my bike off my car I realized that somewhere between Rehoboth Beach and Richmond was an aero-bar pad (those pads where you rest your forearms when in the aero position). The glue holding the velcro attachment had come completely unglued.
So I found the nearest bike shop, bought a couple new pads (even better than the ones I had been using) and spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon scoping out the transition area and parts of the route close to the transition area. I also got to see part of the Off-Road Championship race. Then I hopped in the car to drive the bike route. I'd heard it was hilly, but when driving it, it didn't seem nearly as bad as the Brandywine Valley Duathlon.
Saturday afternoon and evening were spent doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room. The temperature outside was in the 90s, so staying out of the heat and sun was the best thing to do. Plus I had to do my pre-race evening ritual of trimming the hair on my legs. (The real reason cyclists shave their legs is not for speed but for safety. If you were to crash, the hair on your legs would catch the pavement and rip your skin open much worse than with smooth legs. The risk of infection is also greater with hairy legs.) So I ordered room service, watched "Legally Blonde," and clipped my leg hair. And it occured to me that this was probably one of the gayer moments of my life.
SUNDAY
I was up before the 6:00 alarm to get ready for my wave start time. (The first wave of 60+ year-old men went at 7:30). Everything pre-race went according to plan and I was ready for my 9:30 gun.
10k
I went out way too fast on the first mile - a 6:31 - and slowed it down over the next couple miles. It was already getting hot and nearly the entire 10k was without shade. I was amazed at the caliber of runners. I picked one guy with an Ironman tattoo on his leg (meaning he's completed at least one Ironman race) and paced with him. But then I got a little burst of energy and left him behind. (felt good about that!) A lot of the men in my age group were ahead of me, but I noticed that a good number were behind me as well, and I had to remind myself to not worry about anyone else and just run my own race. I ran into the transition area feeling pretty good.
T1
My transition practice really helped (Thank you, Kevin!). I already had my gloves on and my hat off before I entered transition. I threw the hat down, threw my helmet on, whipped off my shoes, and ran through the transition area with my bike - my cycling shoes already being clipped onto the pedals. I mounted fine, and got my feet on top of my shoes right away, just like I practiced. But when I turned the corner and went to put my feet in the shoes, one of them came off (the shoes, not my feet.) So I had to stop, put the shoe on, remount, and regain my momentum.
38k Bike
Once I got past the shoe debacle I was alright. The bike course was 3 loops of about 7-8 miles each. Like I'd discovered in the car on Saturday, the hills really weren't that bad. There was one part of "rolling" hills but that was it. (Going down and up rolling hills makes your mind go, "This is awesome.....oh, shit.....this is awesome.....oh, shit....") We got to pass the main group of cheering spectators 6 times on the bike so that encouragement helped a lot. I was also much more conscious of my nutrition on the bike than I was the last race. I was able to down a Gu (although I should have done 2) and I finished nearly 2 bottles - one with water and one with Accelerade. My new bike computer has 2 features that I haven't had before. The first, cadence, definitely helped. I tried to keep my cadence up around 85-90. That didn't always happen, but I was there most of the time. Second, the computer also has a thermometer. When I started the bike leg, it was 86 degrees. By the time I finished, it was 93. Yikes!
T2
I was determined to not let a wardrobe malfuction hurt my second transition. I loosened the shoe straps early enough, coasted to the dismount line as I swung my leg over, and dismounted flawlessly (just like Mary Lou Retton) as I broke into a run with the bike toward the transition area. What made me feel really good was that I blew past a guy who'd reached the dismount line about 5 seconds before me, and I had my running shoes on and was headed toward the run exit by the time he was entering the transition area.
5k
I started out with those jelly legs most everyone gets after riding a bike, and after about a quarter mile my quadracep cramped - big time. I had to stop and walk, and then stop completely and stretch and rub it out. I walked about another quarter mile and decided I needed to start running again. But I couldn't. I simply couldn't make my legs go. I could do a little "jogging shuffle" but that was about it. The leg was still cramping a bit so the rest of the run was a walk/jog for me. It sucked. No, it really sucked. Making matters worse was the wave of 18-29 year-olds that had just started their 10k blowing by me as our routes shared part of the same streets. Damn kids. I finally got about a quarter mile away from the finish and decided I just needed to kick it in - and leave it all on the course. I reached the finish chute and that's when my leg decided to cramp up even worse than before. The rest of the way to the finish line was pretty agonizing, but I made it across and to the medical tent, where a very nice lady taped an ice-pack around my leg and told me I was awesome. She made my day.
Aftermath
I stuck around for a while, talked with some other racers, drank more Gatorade - now up to well over 100 ounces of fluids for the day - then finally grabbed my bike and things for the long drive home. It wasn't until I was about halfway home and thinking about my performance today - I was reasonably satisfied up until the 5k, but realized that shit happens - that I thought about how I did compared to other racers. Complete results haven't been posted yet, but I know I didn't do very well. But then it occured to me that I had just competed against some of the top duathletes in the country. This was the National Championships!
I'm definitely going back next year. I want to conquer that 5k, and I so need a re-do with that cycling shoe.
Now showered and sipping an ice-cold beer, I'm one happy, satisfied duathlete.
Yeah, I'm a duathlete.
(Race results and times haven't been posted yet. I have a rough idea of my times, but I'm not going to put them here until I see the official times.)
FRIDAY
The plan was to drive into DC Friday night and stay at my friend Tracy's house so the drive down to Richmond wouldn't be too long on Saturday. I failed to plan, however, for all the last-minute things I needed to do (including installing the new computer, practicing transitions, etc.) so time got away Friday night and I decided to get up early Saturday morning and drive the entire distance.
SATURDAY
The alarm went off at 4:30 Saturday morning and I was in the car and on my way by 5:00. An uneventful and relatively quick drive got me to Richmond around 9:30. I got an early check-in to my hotel and unpacked my stuff. When I took my bike off my car I realized that somewhere between Rehoboth Beach and Richmond was an aero-bar pad (those pads where you rest your forearms when in the aero position). The glue holding the velcro attachment had come completely unglued.
So I found the nearest bike shop, bought a couple new pads (even better than the ones I had been using) and spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon scoping out the transition area and parts of the route close to the transition area. I also got to see part of the Off-Road Championship race. Then I hopped in the car to drive the bike route. I'd heard it was hilly, but when driving it, it didn't seem nearly as bad as the Brandywine Valley Duathlon.
Saturday afternoon and evening were spent doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room. The temperature outside was in the 90s, so staying out of the heat and sun was the best thing to do. Plus I had to do my pre-race evening ritual of trimming the hair on my legs. (The real reason cyclists shave their legs is not for speed but for safety. If you were to crash, the hair on your legs would catch the pavement and rip your skin open much worse than with smooth legs. The risk of infection is also greater with hairy legs.) So I ordered room service, watched "Legally Blonde," and clipped my leg hair. And it occured to me that this was probably one of the gayer moments of my life.
SUNDAY
I was up before the 6:00 alarm to get ready for my wave start time. (The first wave of 60+ year-old men went at 7:30). Everything pre-race went according to plan and I was ready for my 9:30 gun.
10k
I went out way too fast on the first mile - a 6:31 - and slowed it down over the next couple miles. It was already getting hot and nearly the entire 10k was without shade. I was amazed at the caliber of runners. I picked one guy with an Ironman tattoo on his leg (meaning he's completed at least one Ironman race) and paced with him. But then I got a little burst of energy and left him behind. (felt good about that!) A lot of the men in my age group were ahead of me, but I noticed that a good number were behind me as well, and I had to remind myself to not worry about anyone else and just run my own race. I ran into the transition area feeling pretty good.
T1
My transition practice really helped (Thank you, Kevin!). I already had my gloves on and my hat off before I entered transition. I threw the hat down, threw my helmet on, whipped off my shoes, and ran through the transition area with my bike - my cycling shoes already being clipped onto the pedals. I mounted fine, and got my feet on top of my shoes right away, just like I practiced. But when I turned the corner and went to put my feet in the shoes, one of them came off (the shoes, not my feet.) So I had to stop, put the shoe on, remount, and regain my momentum.
38k Bike
Once I got past the shoe debacle I was alright. The bike course was 3 loops of about 7-8 miles each. Like I'd discovered in the car on Saturday, the hills really weren't that bad. There was one part of "rolling" hills but that was it. (Going down and up rolling hills makes your mind go, "This is awesome.....oh, shit.....this is awesome.....oh, shit....") We got to pass the main group of cheering spectators 6 times on the bike so that encouragement helped a lot. I was also much more conscious of my nutrition on the bike than I was the last race. I was able to down a Gu (although I should have done 2) and I finished nearly 2 bottles - one with water and one with Accelerade. My new bike computer has 2 features that I haven't had before. The first, cadence, definitely helped. I tried to keep my cadence up around 85-90. That didn't always happen, but I was there most of the time. Second, the computer also has a thermometer. When I started the bike leg, it was 86 degrees. By the time I finished, it was 93. Yikes!
T2
I was determined to not let a wardrobe malfuction hurt my second transition. I loosened the shoe straps early enough, coasted to the dismount line as I swung my leg over, and dismounted flawlessly (just like Mary Lou Retton) as I broke into a run with the bike toward the transition area. What made me feel really good was that I blew past a guy who'd reached the dismount line about 5 seconds before me, and I had my running shoes on and was headed toward the run exit by the time he was entering the transition area.
5k
I started out with those jelly legs most everyone gets after riding a bike, and after about a quarter mile my quadracep cramped - big time. I had to stop and walk, and then stop completely and stretch and rub it out. I walked about another quarter mile and decided I needed to start running again. But I couldn't. I simply couldn't make my legs go. I could do a little "jogging shuffle" but that was about it. The leg was still cramping a bit so the rest of the run was a walk/jog for me. It sucked. No, it really sucked. Making matters worse was the wave of 18-29 year-olds that had just started their 10k blowing by me as our routes shared part of the same streets. Damn kids. I finally got about a quarter mile away from the finish and decided I just needed to kick it in - and leave it all on the course. I reached the finish chute and that's when my leg decided to cramp up even worse than before. The rest of the way to the finish line was pretty agonizing, but I made it across and to the medical tent, where a very nice lady taped an ice-pack around my leg and told me I was awesome. She made my day.
Aftermath
I stuck around for a while, talked with some other racers, drank more Gatorade - now up to well over 100 ounces of fluids for the day - then finally grabbed my bike and things for the long drive home. It wasn't until I was about halfway home and thinking about my performance today - I was reasonably satisfied up until the 5k, but realized that shit happens - that I thought about how I did compared to other racers. Complete results haven't been posted yet, but I know I didn't do very well. But then it occured to me that I had just competed against some of the top duathletes in the country. This was the National Championships!
I'm definitely going back next year. I want to conquer that 5k, and I so need a re-do with that cycling shoe.
Now showered and sipping an ice-cold beer, I'm one happy, satisfied duathlete.
Yeah, I'm a duathlete.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Brandywine Valley Duathlon
The alarm was supposed to go off at 5:30 this morning, but I was up and wide awake before that. Pre-race preparations went well. I had no trouble finding Hibernia County Park in the middle of nowhere, PA and had about 45 minutes to get my transition area set up and get warmed up.
I was in the second of three waves, mine being "men 40 and over." I started out a little faster than I wanted to but quickly settled into a good pace. The run was in the park, which meant plenty of tress to block wind. It also meant half of the run was gravelly and I really had to watch my footing. I also found out what it's like to run hills. It's so flat in Rehoboth Beach and I'd forgotten that hills can kick you butt.
I finished the run, averaging 7:15 per mile - definitely not my best 5k, but decent for my first duathlon, for which I wasn't sure how fast to go for the first 5k.
Transition 1 went alright - 55 seconds - which helped me pick up a few seconds over a number of other participants.
The bike started out ok, but soon the hills were once again kicking my butt. The bike was outside of the park, which meant no break from the wind. The was one long stretch of slight incline and lots of headwind. I was so not ready for the hills. A GU at mile 10 gave me a bit of extra energy (I really need to work on my on-bike nutrition) and I made it back to the transition area averaging 15.5 mph. Somewhat disappointed with that, but again, I'm not used to the hills.
Another relatively good transition - 55 seconds again - had me back out on the run course. This run, while somewhat slower than the first, felt better. I started picking up several places. If I counted right, I moved up 8 places during the second 5k. I crossed the finish, averaging 7:54 per mile for the second 5k.
Final time: 1:39:58 - good enough for 88th place (out of 247) and 18th (out of 30) in my age group.
I've got a lot to work on before the next race, but overall I'm feeling alright about today's race.
Onward!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
3:42:51 !!!
Cold. Snow. Wind.
That's how the day started. It was less than 30 degrees at 7:00am when the marathon began. I was amazed at how "bundled up" many people were. I had my shorts, long-sleeved tech-top, a running baseball cap, and a fleece pullover that I planned to pull off at mile 4.5 when I'd see Meyer and Julie.
Everything went amazingly well. My first three miles were paced exactly where I wanted them to be. I started to speed up in mile four, dumped the pullover, and hit the trail strong. I was surprised that when I hit the halfway point, I was still feeling great. A couple miles were directly into the wind and were ridiculously tough, but once I got through that, I was ok again.
When I hit mile 18 in 2:30, I knew I was going to beat 4 hours. I got back on the trail and kept it steady on the last few miles. I crossed the finish line and looked at my Garmin. 3:42:51!
Julie had to wait forever for her relay partner to finish the first half, but once she did, Julie took off and had a great 13.1. She came through with a sub-two-hour half-marathon.
Meyer was awesome in his role as support crew. He took photos, handed me a bottle of Accelerade exactly when I needed it, and was waiting at the finish line.
I am ecstatic about this run. I'm still walking a little funny, but the legs should be back to normal soon.
Here are some photos:
Me at mile 4.5. (Notice my fleece pullover flying out of the way for Meyer to pick up.)
Just past the finish line.
Post-race with Julie at the beach.
The proof! (Somehow my Garmin tracked .16 additional miles.)
That's how the day started. It was less than 30 degrees at 7:00am when the marathon began. I was amazed at how "bundled up" many people were. I had my shorts, long-sleeved tech-top, a running baseball cap, and a fleece pullover that I planned to pull off at mile 4.5 when I'd see Meyer and Julie.
Everything went amazingly well. My first three miles were paced exactly where I wanted them to be. I started to speed up in mile four, dumped the pullover, and hit the trail strong. I was surprised that when I hit the halfway point, I was still feeling great. A couple miles were directly into the wind and were ridiculously tough, but once I got through that, I was ok again.
When I hit mile 18 in 2:30, I knew I was going to beat 4 hours. I got back on the trail and kept it steady on the last few miles. I crossed the finish line and looked at my Garmin. 3:42:51!
Julie had to wait forever for her relay partner to finish the first half, but once she did, Julie took off and had a great 13.1. She came through with a sub-two-hour half-marathon.
Meyer was awesome in his role as support crew. He took photos, handed me a bottle of Accelerade exactly when I needed it, and was waiting at the finish line.
I am ecstatic about this run. I'm still walking a little funny, but the legs should be back to normal soon.
Here are some photos:
Me at mile 4.5. (Notice my fleece pullover flying out of the way for Meyer to pick up.)
Just past the finish line.
Post-race with Julie at the beach.
The proof! (Somehow my Garmin tracked .16 additional miles.)
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