Sunrise over Lake Mead as I make my way toward the 2008 Rage in the Sage.

Note: I’ve gone back through to update my times and add a couple of race pics.

My recent success at stepping on the podium didn’t carry over this past Saturday. Partly because, unlike the Splash ‘n Dash, there was actually more than one competitor. And, my training leading up to this race may have set a PR in non-existence. I may have swam close to 2,000 meters since last October, although I think that’s being optimistic.

The Rage in the Sage, held at Lake Mead, is typically one of the best organized and classiest races I’ve done over the past two seasons. BBSC Endurance does a fine job of putting the event together. Yet for all of their great accomplishments, for some inexplicable reason, they didn’t use timing chips this year. They dropped back a decade and had an elderly woman holding some sort of timing device in her hand, calling out race numbers as people went through T1 and T2. Hence, no official results yet.

Anyway, I’ll keep this brief since I have no idea of how I fared except that I know I’m not last in my age group. Maybe second-to-last, but not last. Then again, that’s what is to be expected with 3.9 hours of CV training in the past month.

Exiting the longest swim of my life. Note to self: Get ass in the
pool more than four times before a race.

SWIM (750 m)
All sprint competitors, male and female, did a mass start. As I’ve written here in the past, swimming is my best event of the three and I typically have no qualms about swimming in the blender…until now.

I parked right in the middle of the pack, about four or five rows back from the lead swimmers. The water was 57 degrees, just perfect for my QR Farmer John-style wetsuit (circa 1993). Even though it was designed for a 155-pound me of yesteryear, the 178-pound me of today was able to squeeze in thanks to the help of a few strong triathletes who helped shove my fat ass in the suit. A few piddles later, I was warm and toasty for the swim.

Once the horn signaled the start of the race, I got mauled. I got kicked, clawed, and kept running into people for the next 500 meters. Rather than go with my usual 3-1 breathing ratio, I was sucking in air with every stroke and my wetsuit, of course, felt like it was choking me.

Before I go any farther, I want to apologize for any cockiness I may have displayed here, or in various forums, about my open water swimming skills. While I’ve never claimed to be fast, I have thumped my chest about my efficiency in the water and my lack of fear in open water swims. That was all shoved back in my face on this day.

Although I swam a relaxed 750 meters in the pool in 15-minutes a week before the race, I I barely survived this swim. I side-stroked, breast-stroked, even floated on my back a few times to try and catch my breath and get into a rhythm. I finally got clear and found an outside line after the last turn and was able to make up some time during the last 200 meters.

Time: 27:22.9 (best was in ‘06 at 19:00.0)
AG Winner: 18:01.5

T1
This is why I don’t like to wear wetsuits. Whatever time advantage I get from using them in the water, I lose in T1. For the life of me, I could not get the God-damned suit off of my feet. Even though I had liberally used BodyGlide, the suit was glued to me. I must have spent nearly two minutes trying to get free of that cursed monster.

I had been practicing a bike mount where I run with my shoes on, with my bike on my right. Once I cross the mount line, I would clip my left foot on the left pedal, push off and swing my right leg over, clip in, and ride off to glory.

No go on race day. During practice, I kept getting hung up on the first clip-in. The pedal would keep spinning around when I tried to step on it with my Speedplays. Doh!

So, I used my standard bike straddle and push-off. Not cool looking, but it works.

No T1 times provided.

Exiting the short climb out of T1.

BIKE (20 K)
For once, I may have had a decent time on the bike. Perhaps even a PR. Now, I still got passed left and right, but I may have done quite well relative to my past performances on this course.

Using my Garmin Forerunner 305, I tracked my HR and distance to the first turnaround. At that point, I had a Raspberry Hammer Gel (best tasting hands down) that was pre-mixed in a hydration bottle mounted to my bike stem. This is the way to deal with gels on the bike. Much better than trying to screw around and tear a packet with my teeth and squirting overpriced liquid candy on my top tube.

I was passed by one dude in my age group (see run commentary below for redemption), but I was able to pass a couple of folks near the big-ass hill at the second turn-around. I noticed quite a few people were just grinding big gears with an approximate cadence between 50-60. I kept to my plan of keeping my HR capped at 180 and a cadence of 85-95 and hoped that restraint would pay off on the run.

Time: 53:35.0 (PR by 8:20!)
AG Winner: 39:56.0

T2
Now, bike dismounts, I’ve been practicing those as well. As we rocketed down the hill and were about a quarter-mile from the line, I took my feet out of the shoes and pedaled away. About 50 feet from the line, I swung my right leg behind me (I was amazed to later see people swing their right legs in front of them over the top tube…will have to try that) and did a running dismount while simultaneously ejecting my left shoe from the pedal.

Behind me, I hear people yelling “Shoe! Shoe! He lost his shoe!”

A bike mechanic who looked like Doc Brown with the crazy hair from “Back to the Future,” was managing the dismount line and started yelling at me. “Run! Run!”

I’m thinking, “Dude, that’s a $75 piece of leather and plastic back there. I’m not leaving here without it.”

He grabbed the shoe and was frantically gesturing for me to move while continuing his mantra “Run! Run!”

I ran and he caught up to me and shoved the shoe in my jersey pocket.

Very cool.

Another first, I decided to go without socks for this race so T2 went by fairly quickly.

No T2 times provided.

I’m heading home while some of the half-course athletes (in the red dot) are
still grinding up hills as part of their 56-mile cycling adventure.

RUN (5 K)
My goal was to start out at a 10-min/mile (easily done during practice) and drop it by a minute each mile, ending up with an 8-min/mile for the last mile of the run.

As usual for me, no matter what piece of self-monitoring hardware I have, I had a hell of a time trying to get the Garmin switched over to run mode. After a few starts, stops, resets, anything…I finally got the unit switched over to run mode. (Note: Once I downloaded the data upon my return to Hak Manor, the Forerunner showed I had run 2,300 miles instead of three. WTF?)

On the first little hill where I’ve walked in the past, I ran.

I saw the age group dude who passed me on the bike, and gradually reeled him in. Bye-bye.

I was actually passing some people on the run. A miracle!

I tried to crack the 10-minute pace and couldn’t. I wasn’t exhausted, but the legs just didn’t want to go.

The last mile or so, a young man by the name of Cameron from St. George caught up to me and said I looked like I had some more “go” in me. He paced me to the finish line and held me to a sub-10 pace. He was a Godsend. I was holding a steady 199 HR and didn’t want to push the pace any faster for fear of blowing up too early and doing my traditional lame-ass shuffle. I can hold 199 for about a quarter mile, but not a full mile.

As we saw the finish line, we picked a landmark about 100 meters out and agreed to give it our all from that point forward. Once we crossed that spot, we turned on the afterburners (mine was more like a bottle rocket fizz at that point) and went for it.

Unfortunately, two young kids darted out from the spectators to run with their mom who was in front of us. They blocked most of the chute. Cameron, who must have done the math as I did, figured out we’d be passing her about 10 feet from the finish line. Poor form, ol’ chap. Poor form.

So, we slowed to a jog, and let her and the kids have their moment of glory across the finish line. I have not issues with being polite, unless I find out that I was moved back in the rankings by five seconds. Then, I’ll make sure to carry a crowbar with me at the next race.

Time: 34:44.1 (much to my surprise, my I had 33:22 in 2006 [2007 was a duathlon due to weather])
AG Winner: 22:49.7

Conclusion
Overall time: 1:55:42.1
AG Winner: 1:20:47.3
Overall Male Winner: 1:10:49.7

Overall, I got what I deserved for this one, but came away with the following lessons:

• Even though my CV was non-existent, I was shifting my focus from aerobic-building to anerobic-building work. My two sessions of track work were paying off on the run.
• Going without socks is the way to go. The bike was fine and I only ended up with one blister on my Achille’s tendon. Using the right shoes makes all of the difference. And, making sure they’re snugged up tight.
• I still need to drop about 15-20 pounds of flubber. I appreciated this during the run imagining how much harder it would be if I were to strap on a 20-lb weight vest.
• I need to get my ass in my wetsuit and get some open water swims in this summer. The pool is great for conditioning, but that’s it. Open water swimming with a wetsuit is another beast…and I keep forgetting that.
• I was not nervous at all. No pre-race jitters. No repeated visits to the bathroom. However, once I got in the water, I was looking for any excuse to quit and turn around. If a kayak had been near me, I would have bailed from the race. Honest. Fortunately, one was not there and my Inner Quitter finally decided to give it up and go home the last 200 meters of the swim.
• All HRMs suck when it comes to triathlons. Trying to switch modes between bike and run is a nightmare on game day. Luckily, I didn’t even have to deal with switching between swim and bike because hardly anyone trusts the Garmin to not leak. Sure, it’s OK to 3 meters, but who wants to trust that figure on your $300 piece of hardware? Not me.

Share on Facebook

Amanda and I were ready to go. Max, well…let’s just say our dog
knows how to power lounge.

Amanda and I first tackled the Mutts ‘n Masters 5K by accident two years ago. We were aiming for the 1 mile fun run, but since the turn-around point was not marked, nor were there any volunteers placed there, we kept going and ended up doing the 5K. At the time, I was dancing with an ongoing issue with my left Soleus repeatedly tearing (now fixed thanks to A.R.T. and daily stretching), so we were doing more walking than running. In fact, we were so slow that my wife was getting ready to send someone out to look for us…an indicator as to how the rest of my first season of racing would turn out.

We missed the race last year and came back fitter and stronger this year. Well, two of us at least, but more on that later.

They had a nice turn-out this time, but horrible organization. Honest to shit, there were only a half dozen people at the registration table and it took me 15 minutes to get my race number. I had to go to the opposite end of the table to pick up our timing chips, then go back again to the first lady and give her our race numbers. Very inefficient set up.

The race started late because people were still trying to get through the registration fiasco. Amanda, Max (the dog), and I were seeded in the second row at the starting line. Once the horn blew, we took off at a comfortable 9:00-ish pace. While we were treating this as a fun training run for her upcoming junior triathlon (held by race director extraordinaire Frank Lowery of Silverman fame), we still wanted to put in a respectable time.

Sacred pre-race tradition being handed down from the WF Tribe.

Once you get a bunch of people running with dogs in a group. You’re bound to have some entertainment. Within the first 30 seconds, a woman and her dog decided to part ways. She stayed on the road while the dog decided to go off course and whiz on a tree…ending up with both of them wrapped around a pole. About two minutes later, this asswipe who had two Miniature Schnauzers on retractable leashes let all of the way out, almost got the left toe of my Brooks stomped on his dog’s neck and the toe of my right Brooks planted squarely in his nut sack. His dogs were a good 10 feet in front of him running zig-zags. One made a beeline for Max and started nipping at him. During the ensuing melee between Max and Little Turd, Little Turd’s thin nylon leash got wrapped around Amanda’s ankle leaving her a nice burn mark.

Lesson: If you can’t keep your dogs under control and at heel, get off the fucking course.

Our strategy was to take a 30-second walk break every five minutes until we got to the turn-around. After that, we would push it straight through to the finish. However, I wanted to put some distance between us and Asswipe and the Little Turds, so we kept going.

Max is only in it for the race swag: a baggy
of dog biscuits.

The rest of the run was uneventful until we made the turn-around. At that point, we were still holding a 8:45-9:00/mile pace and feeling good. I noticed the leash was getting slacker and slacker and Max was falling behind. My four-year-old lab was feeling the effects of his life as a lounge lizard. We started to slow down a bit to an 11:00/mile pace and then, threw in a couple of one minute walk breaks to let Max catch his breath. My plan of breaking the tape in 30-minutes was gone.

Such is life.

What blew me away, however, was that we saw two people cheat on the course and take shortcuts. They weren’t even in contention for anything and they had the gall to cheat. Of course, being a dad, this was a great opportunity for me to talk to Amanda about integrity.

“Amanda…that guy that ran up the side hill and knocked off 300 meters from the course…he cheated, right?”

“Yes,” she huffed.

“He has no integrity. If he cheats at this, what else is he dishonest about? Would you give him your wallet to hold while you’re out running?”

“Heck no!”

“The only thing you truly have in life is your integrity and you’d better protect with everything you’ve got. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

As we neared the finish line, we had the other cheater in our sights. Even with cramps on both sides at this point, Amanda dug deep and wanted to make sure that integrity won the day. We sped up, passed her and kept going, crossing the finish line in a smidge over 35 minutes.

It never ceases to amaze what lesssons life can teach you. Even during a low key local 5K.

Share on Facebook

Looking down the bunny hill from the top of the kids’ snowshoe course at the 1st Annual Kahtoola
Uphill Challenge at the Arizona Snow Bowl.

As a fairly last minute idea, I decided to interject the 1st Annual Kahtoola Agassiz Uphill into my very light 2008 season. The mysterious (to a non-local like me) course covered two miles and 2,000 feet with the winner expected to complete the distance in 45 minutes. Since there was a kid’s 1K fun race, the entire family decided to go and with that, we were off to our first family-centered race with all four members donning a pair of snowshoes.

I won’t get into all of the details except to say that only two out of our four ended up with our snowshoes touching snow yesterday morning. Racing as a family,as I learned, is far different than have one racer and three fan club members.

Amanda geared up for her first snowshoe adventure.

Here are some important take-aways from the past 72 hours.

1. My plans were flawless, my execution was flawed.
   Unfortunately, Las Vegas’ multisport community is fairly non-existent so we often have to travel to more enlightened communities like Los Angeles, San Diego or Flagstaff if we want to race. Unlike more populated areas of the country, each of these venues is at least a four-hour drive. Because my wife and I have to work for a living, that means we don’t end up getting everything packed up, the dogs to the kennel, and our familial unit asses out the door until 7 p.m. on a Friday night. This makes Saturday races particularly challenging. In this particular instance, compounded by the hour time difference between Nevada and Arizona, we didn’t arrive in Flagstaff until 1:30 a.m.
2. Don’t stay in town for less than 24 hours.
   As a family competing together, staying 24 hours in the race venue town doesn’t cut the mustard. After four hours of sleep, getting the gang up, dressed for snowshoeing and out the door was a challenge. My oldest daughter was eventually kicked out of bed, excited to try snowshoes for the first time in her life (generously loaned to the family by Coach Steve Ilg). My youngest was essentially comatose and seeing that we weren’t going to make it in time, my wife opted to stay with her and sacrifice her first time dancing on the snow. She was not (quite that) pissed at the situation, but she was not definitely not happy about driving four hours, spending tons on gas and lodging to miss out on the fun.What’s the hang-up? One of us needed to be conscious for the four-hour drive back to Vegas after the race (see #3 below).
3. Know the check-out time of your hotel/motel/lodge.
   Why did we have to leave so early? Well, the Ski Lift Lodge had a check-out time of 10 a.m. Since the race didn’t start until 8:00 and I wasn’t expecting to finish before 9:30, we had zero time to get down the mountain, cleaned-up and out the door before we got kicked out. Calls to the lodge staff to request an extended check-out were never returned. With no where to crash after the race, we were essentially homeless.
4. Know the weather.
   I mean, really know the weather. I had miscalculated the morning temperatures at 8,000 feet and had everyone in my family showed up, they would have frozen their asses off…possibly ruining their first experience to the point of never returning.
5. Know something about the course.
   The course directions on the entry form and Kahtoola web site were non-existent. During the pre-race meeting, the race coordinator described the non-marked course to the gang…most of whom seemed to be Flagstaff locals. They knew what she was talking about. I hadn’t a friggin’ clue as to where I would have gone if I were racing. Most likely, I would have gone off course and ended up being found by search and rescue in the spring. A course map would be helpful for next year.
6. Know something about race-day conditions.
   Competing in snow events requires a bit more knowledge of the quality of the snow conditions. Looking at the athletes at the start line, I would have been one of two, out of 30-plus racers in snowshoes. Snowshoes would have been perfect in powder. Due to some spring-like temperatures in Flagstaff, the snow was wet in the afternoons and froze hard overnight when the temps dipped into the high 20s. This hard-packed snow was perfect for micro-spikes, which everyone was wearing.
7. Honor thy locals.
   The Flagstaffians milling around the ski lodge prior to the start race must have been descendants of the Scandinavian gods. I swear, not one, male or female, must have weighed more than 150 pounds. Plus, just about every one of these people were damn good looking folks.Unfortunately, I forget the name of the guy who won the race. I later learned that he ran up the mountain from the highway as his warm-up. By my calculations, that’s 6-1/2 miles starting at an elevation of 7,300 feet and ending at 9,500 feet.I’m not sure what my coach Steve Ilg did as a warm-up, but I saw him running down a steep ski run and heard the other locals talk in hushed tones about him.“Who’s that crazy guy running down the mountain.”“Dude, that’s Steve Ilg.”After the race where he thinks he finished 10th (no official race results as of today), he went telemark skiing. When we caught up with him a couple hours later, guess what his post race & ski nutrition was? Some BCAA and what looked like a bottle of Fortune Delight tea.That’s it.
8. Just have fun, no matter what.
   Although I could have raced, I opted to pull out and join my daughter for the 1K fun run. After all, that’s why we were there in the first place. To do this as a family. What fun would it be for Amanda to sit all by herself in the ski lodge?For the fun run, Amanda ran with two other kids a half kilometer up the bunny hill and then ran down. Before the race coordinator Hilary would let them cross the finish line, they had to pick up three plastic carrots with chocolate candy scattered nearby. Since I was all dressed up to race, I decided to take a run up the kids’ course and damn near had a stroke about 3/4 of the way up. The altitude and minor climb made my heart jump to 200 bpm and feel like it was going to explode out my ears. Oooof.Nonetheless, we had a great time and Amanda couldn’t wait to get back to Las Vegas to tell her P.E. teacher and friends that she ran a snowshoe race. Plus, Hilary gave her a pair of Kahtoola MICROSpikes just for showing up. Hey, where’s the love for the guy that drove her there? ;)

The key take-away from this is that life is life. Sometimes it works out as planned, sometimes it doesn’t. Just learn to play the hand you’re dealt. Learn from the experience. Enjoy the experience.

Share on Facebook

Shortly after the race, I came across a car accident that involved a fully engulfed charter bus filled with nuns and orphans. Apparently they were on their way to help rescue some puppies at the local animal shelter. Being the noble individual I am, I stopped, asked if they could kindly get their burning asses out of my way because I had a pressing date with a bath tub and a few bags of ice.

Ever since then, I’ve been plagued by mysterious illnesses and locust infestations that have kept me occupied and made getting this wrap-up, well, wrapped up. Also figure in that there’s not much to report on a running race. Not very exciting stuff, but here goes:

The race that was not a race
I don’t particularly care for marathons and have no burning desire to do one as part of my “List of 100 Things I Want to Do Before I Croak.” However, since I was training for the Mt. Taylor Winter Quadrathlon at the time, I decided having a half marathon on my dance card midway between my last triathlon and the Quad would be a good event to keep me honest in my training efforts. For those of you unfamiliar with the Quad, 16 of the 42 miles are done as a run, nordic ski and snowshoe, so running fitness is a key component.

I signed up for the half marathon and wasn’t the least bit concerned about a finishing time. I just planned to stay in Zone 2 or below and use the race as a training day. To achieve that, I would run four minutes then walk one minute and repeat throughout the race.

That plan was thrown out the door the moment I arrived just in time for the fireworks display and starting gun. (Note to those of you wanting to enter this race: Parking is fucked. The freeway offramps are blocked and access to Las Vegas Boulevard, where the majority of the race is held, is non-existent. I saw people bailing out of cars on the offramp and hopping chain link fences a mile from the race.)

As I’m sure is the case with most marathons, it took several minutes for the back of the pack to move en masse to the finish line. However, all was cool as they had an Elvis impersonator belting out some classics to keep us all entertained.

Once I crossed the start line and started running, I noticed a young gal moving up from behind and keeping pace with me. She kept looking over and finally ran up alongside me.

“Are you doing the full or the half?”

“Just the half,” I replied.

“So am I. How long do you think you’ll take to finish.”

I paused. “You know, I haven’t a clue.”

“C’mon! How long do you think?”

“Well, I’m figuring somewhere between three to three-and-a-half hours.”

I can’t even figure out how to type the sound she made when she rolled her eyes. It was something like a guffaw. She went from the polite “can we be best friends?” to instant she-bitch and ran off.

Runners are a weird bunch.

Remember I said that I was going to run/walk? To make a long story short, I blew that off in short order. I was feeling so good, I just kept running…and running. I told myself I would take my first one minute walk break at the 20-minute mark…then 30-minute. Finally, I forced myself to walk for two minutes at the one hour mark.

From that point forward, I would keep running at an easy pace and then treat the last three miles of the race as an all-out 5K effort. Just to see how I would respond.

Here’s where it gets interesting
Leading up to the race, my longest distance was eight miles. Once. The rest of my infrequent runs were of the 30-45-minute variety where I would cover only two-three miles because I was “building my base.” In other words, turtle slow.

Even though I ran the race with only two, two-minute walk breaks, I kept pace with a Dr. Seuss and her Elvi Clan the entire flipping race. Dr. Seuss was the head cheerleader and coach for a half dozen young women who were in their first half marathon. She had them on a strict run-walk break schedule of about six minutes running, one minute walking.

Note the key difference: I ran, they ran/walked. We crossed the finish line together. That should tell you something about the benefits of the run/walk methodology.

Once I hit the 10-mile marker, I decided to put on the burners and see what I could do the last three miles.

Look at the HR data below to see what happened starting at mile 10.

Abso-friggin-lutely nothing in terms of speed. I felt like I was moving faster, yet the blue line (speed) tells all. My heart rate (the red line), however, went through the roof. I stayed in the 190s for the last three miles. For the increased stress on my body, I gained nada.

To me, that is quite a fascinating little bit of scientific research. What it means in the big picture to me, other than I need to run more, remains a mystery.

Share on Facebook

1. Cannondale: 39
2. Cervelo: 36
3. Trek: 35
4. Specialized: 24
5. Felt: 19
6. Giant: 11
7. Kestrel: 10
8. Scott: 9
9. Guru: 8
10. Quintana Roo: 8
11. Kuota: 7
12. Lightspeed:6
13. Bianchi: 5
14. Orbea: 4
15. Schwinn: 4
16. Vandess: 3
17. Aegis: 2
18. Fuji: 2
19. LeMond: 2
20. Look: 2
21. Marin: 2
22. Pinarelli: 2
23. Principia:2
24. Serotta: 2
25. Simonetti: 2
26. Colnago: 1
27. Griffen: 2 (including Dave Scott)
28. Javelin: 1
29. Jamis: 1
30. Motobecane: 1
31. Rocky Mountain: 1
32. Teschner: 1
33. Valdora: 1
34. X-Lab: 1

Share on Facebook

As luck would have it, we got posted about six miles from T2, near the last of the big-ass hills that the cyclists had to face (there was nearly 10,000 feet of climbing). Forty minutes into our shift, we saw the armada of support vehicles round the bend and lo and behold, it was Macca barreling toward us at a steady clip.

Ten minutes later, was number two, then three and four…all pretty well spread out. In the distance, I saw a bigger rider on a bike coming along a decent clip. As he drew closer, it could only be one man: Dave Scott.

As I later discovered, Scott was only four seconds back from Macca coming out of the water. Macca’s lead grew to 24 minutes by the time Scott passed us on the bike.

In the end, Macca finished in 4:22:50 and a smoking 25:52 swim. As I’m writing this, his other split times are not available.

Scott finished in 4:52:05.

Amanda and I also took an unofficial count of what bikes were being used in this year’s race. Very interesting results. More on that tomorrow.

Share on Facebook

Amanda rarin’ to go moments before the start of her first official solo triathlon.

Las Vegas is starting to grow up and become more than a cultural mecca for those New Yorkers and Los Angelinos willing to part with a few hundred brain cells and a few thousand dollars in our multitude of casinos. We are slowly, but surely, beginning to add “real” culture to our community and yesterday marked another milestone in that advancement.

Saturday morning marked the return of the Clark County Junior Triathlon for kids between the ages of 6-13. Held at the Desert Breeze Aquatic Facility, the race was comprised of different distances for the age groups of 6-7, 8-9, 10-11, and 12-13. For Amanda’s group (10-13), the distance was 100 yards in the indoor pool, followed by a dash to T1, five laps around the parking lot for 1.75 miles and finishing it all off with 1-mile run.

Rather than a mass start, the race director held four different races, one for each age group. Once the last person from the previous age group crossed the finish line, the next group would head to the pool to get ready for their start.

This was Amanda’s first solo triathlon and it was neat to see the butterflies take residence in her stomach, instead of mine, as race time drew near. Unfortunately also like her father (and 100 percent his fault), Amanda had little training time under her belt. The night before, we sat down and talked and made sure her main goal was to cross the finish line…and if she had a chance to pass someone, do it! Other than that, just enjoy the sweat and the sound of her breath.

Swim (100 yards)
There were 16 kids in the 10-11 age group and we set up with two kids in each lane. When the whistle blew, Amanda took off in a nice freestyle. Most kids were using freestyle, with one or two breaststroking and an occasional backstroker . She kept a steady pace the first 50 yards and stayed up with the main pack. After that, she ran out of gas and slowed down to a heroic, but ineffective, crawl. As anyone who’s swam competitively knows, once your form goes, you’re working twice as hard to go half the speed. It just kills you.

At that point, she quickly went from middle of the pack to second-to-last.

T1
One parent was allowed to help the junior triathlete in transition and I helped Amanda get out of the pool, dry her feet get her socks and shoes on. We were a bit clumsy, but we got her going and out of T1.

Bike (1.75 miles)
Amanda was making up some ground here and held strong the first three laps. She lost a bit more energy on the fourth and fifth, but was hanging in with the main pack.

Now, here’s where things get fishy. Every age group had a different number of laps to complete. In Amanda’s case, it was five laps. As she came around on her fourth lap, her pack suddenly disintegrated. Although there were volunteers stationed on one corner to count laps for the kids, many of the parents were giving lap counts to their kids…and several were confused on how many laps their kids were supposed to do.

I’ll leave it at that. Amanda finished her five laps.

Run (1 mile)
The out-and-back course had a minor incline on the first half. Amanda started off at a decent pace and then I saw her stop to walk about a third of the way in. I took off after her to give some moral support. By the time I rounded the bend, however, she was running again and was quickly nearing the turnaround point. I held back and waited for her.

At that point, I saw two boys on the return leg battling it out for the lead. They were shoulder to shoulder and it looked like an epic race in the making. But, when one slipped ahead by more than a pace, he would look over his shoulder and veer over to cut off the other boy. One of the volunteers yelled at the kid to knock it off and “be a good sport!”

My wife later told me that this shenanigans continued as the boys neared the finish line, neck and neck. It finally ended when both boys tripped over each other and went sprawling, assholes over elbows, across the pavement. Hopefully a nice case of road rash will be a reminder to the lesson they hopefully learned about sportsmanship.

I kept Amanda company until the finish line was in sight. At that point, she said she wanted to walk for a bit and would run again when she got closer to the finish line. Absent throughout the entire race, my “Stage Dad” kicked in: “You will not walk with the finish line in sight. You have two minutes of suffering left and you can run for two minutes.”

She ran.

Fifty yards from the finish, that run turned into one hell of a sprint. Amazing how much energy we develop the closer we get to the finish line, isn’t it?

Amanda finished as the 7th place female in her age group and has been very proud of her accomplishment ever since. The lane number that is etched with red marker on her hand is not getting washed off and I’m sure will be proudly shown around the school tomorrow.

Asked if she would do it again, “Oh yes!” she exclaimed.

I’m turning the keyboard over to Amanda to sum up the experience in her own words: “It was exciting, interesting, hard, and some good exercise. My legs are sore today, but otherwise I feel great! I’m now a triathlete!”

Share on Facebook

The Lake Las Vegas Triathlon is held in the beautiful resort community of…you guessed it, Lake Las Vegas. The sprint course featured a short 400-meter swim, a 10.6-mile bike, and a 5K run. Although only a sprint, the course featured a couple steep climbs on the bike and the run.

I wasn’t planning on entering this race, but some calendar snafus on my part in trying to get Amanda into her first triathlon led me to this race. Even though this race had sold out, race director, Keith Hughes of Sunset Racing, let us enter as a sprint relay team. We were to be a category of one.

One of the cool things that Keith does to encourage family participation in triathlon is to have categories like the best husband/wife combined time and best parent/child combined time.

Amanda’s Training
Amanda was stoked about competing in her first triathlon, but unfortunately, with both of us in school during the week, we had little time to get her prepared. With only a handful of sporadic training sessions, we never had a chance to get her runs up to the 5K mark. The plan for race day was to just relax and have fun. Our only goal was to get her across that finish line…run, walk or crawl.

My Training
What can I say? My training leading up to this race was basically non-existent. My only time on the bike since the Mountain Man was a couple 3-mile easy rides with Amanda…and all of the runs were at a low aerobic pace (119-133 bpm) which averages out to about 15-min. miles for me to stay in that range. Actually, I have to alternate running and walking to stay in that zone.

Fortunately, I was able to get a few swims on my lunch hours.

That, however, did not make a dent in my overall lack of conditioning. Wow…a whopping average of 2.2 hours of training time PER WEEK from June through the race.

Not good.

Note that once my pre-med studies started in late May, my training volume went down the crapper. My biggest chunks of training time came in the form of the Mountain Man tri and the Lake Las Vegas tri. Not conducive to doing anything except surviving.

On to the race…

Swim (400 meters)

Yes, once again, I’m the one in the green swim cap.

Our start was about 20 yards from shore in the private cove behind the breathtaking Loews Hotel. The sprint group was to swim out under a bridge, veer some direction that wasn’t clear to me, round a white buoy and then head back to shore…into oncoming swimmers.

Keith blew the air horn at 8:04 a.m., I counted to three and then started swimming. I kept it relaxed and easy and frequently sighted to make sure I was in the right group. During the pre-race chatter, I heard we had to veer right out of the cove to head for the turnaround buoy…and I also heard we had to veer left out of the cove.

Four hundred meters isn’t that far so I planned on figuring it out along the way. Once I got out of the cove, I kept going straight for another 50 meters, and popped up to discover that I was already off course. I made a hard left and caught up to the pack again, rounded the buoy and headed back into shore.

Once I hit the beach, the swim didn’t end until I ran about 200 meters uphill to the transition area. I had planned on walking the hill so my heart rate wouldn’t get jacked, but I couldn’t stop myself from running. Ingrained habit I suppose!

By the time I crossed the timing mat, the temps were already crawling into the high 90s.

Amazingly enough, I was third in my age group as I ran into T1. Third! I was only one second behind the guy in second place. There you have it, my brief flirtation with the podium.

Time: 12:24
AG (40-44): 3/9
Overall: 47/153
Fastest AG male: 12:05
Fastest Overall : 8:49

T1
Since I wasn’t “racing” and had no idea how well I had come out of the swim, I had a very relaxed T1. I just plopped on my ass, put my socks on, and trotted out of T1 with El Lobo Gris in tow. However, I used the dental floss trick to keep my shoes in position on the bike. Worked like a charm again.

Time: 2:25
AG (40-44): 5/9
Overall: 92/153
Fastest AG male: 0:58
Fastest Overall: 0:20

Bike (10.6 miles, 2 loops)
The first mile or so, straight out of the transition area, was pretty much uphill.

Ouch.

After the first climb, we had a nice downhill…the only time I passed anyone in the race, purely due to my confidence in going fast when others were tapping their brakes. After that, we had another climb that was a bit longer and zapped the life out of me.

During the Mountain Man, I was able to stick close to my HR plan of staying under 179, even though I was at 6,800 feet. At Lake las Vegas, I was at approximately 2,000 feet. In spite of the favorable altitude, the temps, my shitty state of condition, took it’s toll. I couldn’t get my HR below 187 and I was just crawling.

Crawling.

My training log above explains it all.

Time: 56:37
AG (40-44): 9/9
Overall: 121/153
Fastest AG male: 33:09
Fastest Overall: 29:23

T2
As I pedaled my sorry butt into T2, I noticed there were a lot of bikes there and not many people.

When I got over to my spot in the bike racks, I found Amanda anxiously waiting for me.

“What took you so long?” she demanded.

My wife later told me that she thought I had a flat or wiped out. Yes, I was that slow!

While I was getting my running shoes on, Amanda took the initiative and stripped the timing chip from my ankle and put it on her own. She was ready to go!

Time: 1:32
AG (40-44): 3/9
Overall: 72/153
Fastest AG male: 0:44
Fastest Overall: 0:18

Run
I decided to keep her company and we ran out of T2 and began the mile climb to the turnaround point. Our plan was to have Amanda run three minutes and walk two. I was pooped and had planned to walk the first mile and then pick up running once we started going downhill.

However, once Amanda started passing people, she just kept running. I watched in amazement, and a whole lot of pride, as she charged up a hill that nearly everyone was walking up just before the turnaround.

As you can see from this photo at the two-mile mark, the 99-degree heat and unusual humidity was catching up with her and she had to walk most of the last mile. In fact, I’ve never seen so many people walking a run course as I did during this triathlon.

I caught up with her and made our plans for the finish line. She would cross first as the team leader. We picked up our pace and it was just beautiful to watch my daughter cross the finish line of her first triathlon. The cheers of the crowd and having the race director there to shake her hand put a huge grin on her face.

Time: 1:32
AG (40-44): 3/9
Overall: 72/153
Fastest AG male: 0:44
Fastest Overall: 0:18

OVERALL
Time: 2:03:56
AG (40-44): 9/9
Fastest AG male: 1:14:31
Fastest Overall: 58:45

Lessons Learned
1) It helps to actually train before a race. Actually, if you’re training hours for the week are less than it takes to the race itself, don’t expect to do very well.

2) The results don’t mean crap in the end. This was meant to be a fun, father-daughter race and I had no expectations that I would do well. I just wasn’t expecting to suck that much!

3) The nuun Kona Kola I used on the bike and run tasted great and helped to keep me well hydrated throughout the race.

4) Sharing the race, and the camaraderie of triathlon, with my daughter was a great family moment.

5) Kudos for Keith Hughes again for letting us enter the race in our own unofficial category and for giving Amanda an age-group gold medal for completing the race. She brought that medal, as well as the finisher’s medal to school the next day to show everyone.

Find your edge and dance upon it.

hak

Share on Facebook

Here’s Part II of my Mountain Man Sprint Triathlon race report. You can read Part I here.

THE SWIM (750m)

My girls are giving me a last-minute piece of advice before I enter the blender.

This literally sucked.

I was hoping to have a nice, relaxed and smooth swim this year…unlike last year’s rude awakening. No deal.

The water temp was 71 and no wetsuit was necessary. I wore my old QR farmer john and instantly regretted it. I’m finding that wetsuits are just a pain in the ass to deal with and I never enjoy the choking sensation I get from the neck seal. If you want to know what it’s like to swim at altitude, try doubling your breathing pattern. For instance, I typically breath once for every three strokes. I tried this at the pool today by breathing once every six strokes. That was close to the same sensation I felt in my lungs while swimming at 6,800′.

Once again, I simply could not catch my breath after the first two minutes. It was at this point that several others came to the same conclusion, Just before the first buoy, I popped up into a breast stroke to catch my breath and saw a sea of green swim caps from my wave (men 49 and younger) doing the same. It was like a sea of green-tipped bobbers with big saucers for eyes. Everyone was gasping for air and I’m sure was thinking the same thing I was: “It cannot be this hard so early!”

That freakin’ altitude came to bite us all in the ass.

I’m the one in the green cap.

Exiting the swim.

And, just like last year, I was never able to get into a rhythm from that point forward. I have to be honest and say I was very tempted to bail out and quit. Very tempted. But, experience has taught me that defeat leaves a very bitter and very long-lasting taste in my mouth and at most, I had another 20 minutes of suffering.

Piece of cake.

As I watched one of my fellow triathletes signal for a rescue from the support crew, I struggled on. Rather than use my standard three strokes per breath pattern, I was once again reduced to a one stroke per breath and found some relief by accentuating the length of my pull so I could take a longer, deeper breath. Even then, I could only go for a minute before needing to pop up to catch my breath again.

Time: 18:00
AG (40-44): 16/28
Overall: 132/276
Fastest AG male swimmer: 12:21
Fastest Overall swimmer: 10:13

I was hoping to knock off a 15:00 swim but the altitude did me in.

TRANSITION 1
I had a great improvement over last year’s T1 debacle. Of course, this was mostly due to me not trying to roll out of the rack with a flat tire. Reading all of the transition tips submissions from the past week, inspired me to try a few out during this race. I had never practiced with these before so I did not have the most intelligent approach, but it worked out.

I made sure I got to the transition area about 5:30 a.m., which meant dragging my poor family out of the hotel bed at 4:30, and got to a nice open rack to set up my gear.

I put my bike shoes on the bike and tied a loop of dental floss from the shoe to the bike frame; one for each shoe. This held the shoes in the 3 o’clock and 9 o’clock positions and worked fine while I ran out of T1.

Once I passed the bike mount line, I got on the bike and started pedaling with my feet on top of the shoes. Once I crested the little hill and got on the main road, I started to put my feet in the shoes. That worked just fine and I only had a 30-second snag getting my left foot in. The velcro tab had re-stuck to the shoe so I couldn’t stick my foot in. Once I saw what the problem was, I fixed it and settled in for my ride.

Time: 3:37
AG: tied for 15/28
Overall: 164/276
Fastest AG T1: 1:34
Fastest Overall T1: 0:51

BIKE (18K)
The sprint course is designed for speed. It’s relatively flat and I didn’t notice the altitude as much once I was back on terra firma. Also, here’s where my aerobic training started to pay off.

Again, I did not monitor speed or cadence. I simply watched my HR and did my best to keep it at 179…and I did. Well, actually I kept it between 178-180, but we’re not going to get that anal about it, are we?

The ride was good and I passed a couple of people and was passed by several more, but not many. I think most of those were cyclists on the Olympic course. I typically don’t find myself being passed by too many studs and stud-ettes on $5,000 tri bikes when I’m on the bike course. Those folks are already ahead of me.

I planned on cranking up the throttle a little bit after the turnaround and needed some cyclists ahead of me to target. I did and passed a couple of riders and had a nice mini-battle with another cyclist that I won. A few minutes later, he came barreling by me as we were getting ready to enter T2.

Oh well.

What was surprising was the lack of officials on the course. There were a group of cyclists that blew my me in a nice little peloton of about six riders. People were drafting like crazy out there.

Overall, my bike went well. I could have opened it up a bit more but I felt like I was going at a hard, sustainable pace which averaged 17.5 mph. I think I could have shaved another minute if I had more rabbits in front of me to chase down on second half of the course. There just weren’t that many riders out there.

Time: 38:26 (17.5 mph)
AG: 21/28
Overall: 171/276
Fastest AG Bike: 30:08 (22.3 mph)
Fastest Overall Bike: 29:03 (23.1 mph)

TRANSITION 2

Whoah there Nellie! My running dismount as I head into T2.

There’s never much to report on T2’s is there?

About 100 meters from the dismount line, I got my feet out of my shoes and pedaled with them on top. About 15 meters out, I kicked my right leg over the seat and balanced on my left pedal as I coasted in for a stop. There was a bit of a traffic back-up at that point, and volunteers screaming “Slow down! Slow down!,” so I didn’t do any dramatic high-speed dismounts that I like to do at home. Those just make me feel way cool.

I ran in, racked my bike, put on my shoes and swapped my lid for a visor and started jogging out of transition.

Getting ready to head out for the run. Has anyone seen my oxygen tank?

At this point, I typically feel the efforts of the bike in my legs. It’s like wearing concrete shoes that are connected to my pelvis by a wet noodle.

Much to my surprise, my legs felt good.

Time: 1:58
AG: 18/28
Overall: 151/276
Fastest AG T2: 0:52
Fastest Overall T2: 0:51

THE RUN (5k)
My most challenging event of the three sports that are the hallmark of triathlon. Again, my “plan” called keeping my HR at 179 or below. I was curious to see how this would play out with the altitude. My guess was that I would be shuffling along equivalent to a walking pace.

Fortunately, that wasn’t so.

Unlike the start of other runs, I felt good at the beginning. I kept my pace nice and steady and was averaging about a 10:30/mile at 180 bpm according to my HR monitor. With the first half of the run at a slight incline, I was just playing it by ear…or by breath.

The turnaround seemed to come much faster this year and I still felt good, so I moved on to Plan 2: Screw the HR and start picking up the pace. I started to pace a couple of people and that just gave me more energy to keep going. Just like the bike, however, there weren’t too many rabbits to catch at this point.

Plan 3 was to drop down to an 8:30-ish pace for the last quarter mile, which is just about where you can see the lake again. I kept that pace going all the way to the finish line and was only able to pick up the pace a wee bit the last 50 meters. I had no more gas for the full-out sprint.

I was pleased with the run. My “wind” was strong and my legs were strong. To me, that showed that my tactical change in training was working. There were several key speed sessions I had missed and that was obviously an influence on race day. The turbo chargers that were present during the run at the Rage in the Sage were gone.

Time: 35:41 (11:29/mile)
AG: 24/28
Overall: 218/276
Fastest AG Run: 22:33 (7:15/mile)
Fastest Overall Run: 19:47 (6:22/mile)

CONCLUSION
Overall, I had a great time and did better than I thought considering the lack of training the past month.

2006 vs 2007

The swim, which is historically my best event, once again knocked me for a loop at Lake Mary. Going forward, I’m not sure how to fix that other than trying to build up my aerobic engine so I can better handle the altitude.

My HR averaged 181 for the race and maxed out at 204 during the last 50 meters of the run. From the training I did before the last four weeks of nothingness, I know that 180 was a good, sustainable cap for me. It worked. Now I just have to get faster.

The bike and run continue to be my biggest challenges and I’m anxious to see how they will improve for my “B” race in September and then my “A” race showdown at the Pumpkinman. All it takes is consistency, right?

LESSONS LEARNED

• Ditch the wetsuit when possible. Although I was able to strip the wetsuit fairly fast, it was a pain in the butt and I don’t particularly care for the constriction around my neck. The extra buoyancy is just not worth the hassle.
• No socks for sprints. I need to condition my feet to go without socks on the bike and the run. It took about 20-30 seconds just to get the socks on my wet feet. With the previous day’s rain storms, the transition area was wet and running in my socks just got them soaked…and dirty. They were brand new!
• Staying with the HR cap worked out pretty darn good. I felt like I was maintaining a good pace throughout the race. I just need to make sure I get in those speed sessions so I can bring the turbochargers back online when I need them.
• My pre-race meal was 1/2 of a ZoneBar and a half-bottle of Heed that I started sipping about 90 minutes before show time. The only other nutrition I had was a bottle of nuun (Kona Cola flavor) on the bike. At the last second, I grabbed that bottle and took it with me on the run. I had a third of the bottle remaining when I crossed the finish line. This worked just fine.
• Age does not matter. The overall winner of the sprint was Nick Martin from the 50-54 age group. He came in with a smokin’ 11:33 swim, 31:16 bike and a lightning fast run of 19:47 for an overall time of 1:05:38.

Find your edge and dance upon it.

hak

Share on Facebook

(Note: I just read GeekGirl’s race report and I missed her and her husband completely! Then again, I’m not sure I even know what she looks like other than the Valkyrie-like illustration of her from her blog. At least I didn’t see anyone with a sword on the course.)

The sprint course hugs Upper Lake Mary with a great view of the lake on one side and towering ponderosa pines on the other.

While the race director bills the event as the “toughest race you’ll ever love,” the sprint course is really not that challenging…geographically speaking. Everything is fairly flat. The real bear is the altitude. We’re talking about 6,800 feet of “Honey, have you seen my oxygen bottle?” jokes among athletes on the course.

Last year saw my most depressing personal results of the season. The swim, which is my strongest event, was crushed by the altitude. This year turned out to be no different.

THE BACKGROUND
Before I get to the nitty gritty of the race, perhaps it will help to put my results in context.

Allow me to describe the racing machine that is me. I have a fucked up aerobic engine. I can easily redline my heart rate at 190+ on a run…at an 8:30/mile pace. My regular 11:30/mile pace had me averaging around 180 bpm. There was no middle ground. Even a hint of a jog spiked me from 110 to 160 bpm in less than a minute.

I thought if I just kept training harder, I would eventually go faster and my HR would drop. After a year of training, nothing happened.

Then, I came across an article in the BioBuilde newsletter by Louis Vargas. Vargas, who is affiliated with six-time Ironman champ Mark Allen, also suffered from a high HR. His heart rate challenges hit me square between the eyes. Finally, someone who had the same issue as I do! That article, in turn, led me to Mark Allen where I read this prophetic statement: “You can either try to race with an engine the size of a lawnmower, or you can build your engine up with a good base so that you are racing with a huge-turbo charged jet engine.”

Looking back over my past season, I never stopped to build that base. I wasn’t even racing with a lawnmower engine. I had a model airplane engine under the hood.

I had overlooked all of that Zone 1 training that was given to me by Coach Steve Ilg. To stay in Zone 1, I would have to walk, not run. That just didn’t make sense at the time so I trained in Zone 1 based on perceived exertion…or 160 bpm. I was also trying to cram too many events in my schedule, going from sprint to Olympic to half-mary trail run to full-blown winter quadrathalon. I was so busy learning new skills that I had neglected my foundation.

After reaching this epiphany that I had to slow down…and I mean really, ego-killing slow down…I decided to let the chips fall where they may. If I had to walk to stay in my prescribed HR zone, so be it. And, a lot of walking I did over the past several weeks. My farthest run going into this race was 2.5 miles….and that took me 45 minutes to do so by keeping my HR under 138.

However, success was slowly coming my way. My HR began to drop. First, the swim just felt like it “opened up.” I don’t know how to describe it. Next came the bike HR. Where I had once redlined at 190, I was now achieving the same output and perceived effort at 180. The run was slowly coming along…slowly. More consistency in my training and speed work would have definitely improved those numbers as well.

THE PREP
Like I said, for the past 12 weeks I’ve been focusing on re-building my aerobic base. Well, make that eight weeks of training. The last four were lost due to school, vacation, work and general heat-related sloth. Are you ready for this sobering stat? Since May 25, I have put in a whopping total of 4.4 hours of cardiovascular training. That’s 4.4 hours comprised of swimming, biking and running. Well, scratch the bike. I didn’t get on El Lobo once.

I never realized my training volume was that pathetic until just now. Somehow I had deluded myself into thinking I only had two weeks of non-effort under my belt.

THE PLAN
OK…back to the plan for this race. With the average altitude of 6,800′ and my notoriously high HR, I was curious to see how this was going to play out. My race strategy was simple: There were no time goals. There were no pace goals. And there were no speed goals. My only objective was to stay under my aerobic cap of 179 bpm and see where that took me.

More this afternoon…

hak

Share on Facebook