Utah Half Iron
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Utah Half Iron Triathlon
August 15th, 2009
1.2 mile swim (some of it)..56 mile bike..13.1 mile run
The Lead Up
I had been looking forward to the Utah Half triathlon since I found it looking for races in the western states. It was advertised as a very flat/fast course, so I thought I might be able to PR the half-iron distance. Additionally my Dad's whole side of the family hails from and resides out there, so my hope was that I could bring my little family out to Utah, have my folks come out, and have my sister and her family come out and we would have a grandiose reunion of sorts with my Dad's side of the family. At one point or another, everyone thought it was a good idea, and looked into pulling the trigger on it, but much to my chagrin, folks started dropping off left and right and it ended up being only myself making the pilgrimage out to the promised land. I was excited to stay with my cousin Saundra and her family (as I hadn't seen her for any great length of time in 20+ years), and she arranged to have a little get together while I was out there. I lined up a rental car (Chevrolet HHR-can't say I recommend it for any other reason than I could lay the back seats down and fit my bike inside without much problem; the interior is kind of hurtin though), packed up everything on Thursday morning, and began my journey east. It was a relatively uneventful ride, other than listening to a panoply of tunes I hadn't listened to since my dad stopped tuning into the easy listening station on the radio (he switched to all talk, all the time...though with satellite radio I think he has now switched to 1940's big band, ugh!). I was belting out the tunes (Everyone Knows its Wendy-The Association, If I had a Hammer-PP&M, Season's in the Sun - Terry Jacks, to name a few) into my banana/microphone and didn't really care when the high school girls drove by pointing at me and laughing (although they may have been cheering). All in all, a good drive from Sac-town to Utah.
Training
Training has been somewhat spotty over the past couple of months. I have gotten a few good long rides in, as well as some hard runs on the treadmill, but the longest run was like 58 minutes, so I probably wasn't quite prepared for the half marathon. Of course, in my mind I had rationalized this and convinced myself that I would be okay...I mean it's only another hour on top of the longest run I had done in a couple months, and that is on top of a swim and bike (and keep in mind I believe I've done a single brick workout this whole season). So I was victorious in my mind game, though as it played out, my body had the last laugh on my mind (or somehow reversed in a twisted way)...anyway, I need to stop rationalizing. I didn't do too much the final week, as I was recuperating a bit from the tri 4 fun where I had been pushed pretty hard by The Terror, so I took it pretty easy (okay, very easy save one bike ride in the searing heat where I lost 7 pounds of water in 2.5 hours). Lastly, I may have been taking this race a little lightly, as it was supposed to be fast (though I think I learned fast doesn't necessarily mean easy) and flat which was a complete change from the other hilly half-iron I did in May...live and learn.
The Night Before the Race
So the night before the race I drove down to Provo to pick up my race packet at the Utah Lake State Park. As usual, the volunteers were very cheerful and excited to see all of the athletes. I checked out the swim course and the transition area, and I picked up some directions for the bike course so I could go out and drive it. I called my friend Tyler from years past, who I worked with as a missionary in Latvia, as he lived in the Provo area. It ended up he lived right down the street from the race venue, so I swung by his house, met his wife and offspring, and he agreed to come with me in the car to recon the bike course; I was glad that we did this, as it would prove very beneficial the morning of the race. After driving the course, I dropped Tyler off, found a place to get some grub, and then headed back to my cousin's place to get some shuteye. I was in bed by 10:30 and asleep by 11:00, though the alarm went off at 3:45...never enough sleep, but such is life.
Pre-Race
So I drove the 40 minutes down to the race venue and was actually the second athlete there. I was happy with this, as the bathrooms were still clean, there was no line, and I had my choice of transition areas. I got my race chip and body marking done early, set up my transition area (only problem was that it was still dark, so I was futzing around with everything blind for the first 40 minutes), and then started to watch the parade of other athletes come into the venue. There definitely appeared to be some pretty serious folks, with pretty serious equipment, and a lot of SWAG from other major races (I'm pretty sure the Sacramento Tri 4 Fun doesn't count as a major race on the tri circuit). At this point (5:30ish) the weather was gorgeous (i.e. - no wind, cool enough not to get hot, but warm enough not to be cold, smooth water, etc.), and it looked like an auspicious beginning to a day slated to start at 6:45 for the men and 6:55 for the women. The race directors planned to have a pre-race meeting at about 6:30, and about 5 minutes before the meeting the wind began gusting...not like gentle breezes, but more like Dorothy and Toto's twister in Kansas; it wasn't good. So the race directors had the meeting, and we all began heading over to the Utah Lake harbor for the swim start. Once we got over to the harbor area, we could see the white caps and 2 foot swells within the 'sanctuary' of the harbor and we could see the waves crashing over the rocks outside the harbor (like something you would see Deadliest Catch); definitely not good. The directors decided to postpone the start for 15 minutes as there was concern about lightening (though there wasn't any rain), so we hung out and waited on the slime covered concrete boat ramps. After 15 minutes, we waited another 15 minutes as the winds hadn't died down, but still no lightening sightings. Finally at about 7:25, they said we would start in a minute, but we would only be able to do a single lap of the 2 lap swim. To be completely honest, I was totally fine with that as I had no great desire to spend 45 minutes thrashing about in the water like a harpooned sperm whale. The boat ramps were literally so slimy that I simply steadied myself standing up and slid down the ramp like I was on ice skates into the greenish water.
The Swim
While I'm not the greatest swimmer, I did feel pretty comfortable in the water, though I literally could not see my hands in the water unless I held them 6 inches from my face. The swim loop was pretty much an out and back (that we were supposed to do twice), and the swim out was heading directly into the whitecaps. While it wasn't that bad for breathing (better than having the whitecaps to my right side-which is the side I favor my breathing on), it did make buoy sighting a little troublesome as they would smack me directly in the face. It didn't take too long for me to get a leak in my right eye, so I had to pause, turn and face the other way, and get the water out. Surprisingly I made decent progress on the way out, and reached the far buoy a little quicker than I anticipated. I was excited for the return trip as it would be akin to body surfing the whole way in, however the sun had begun to rise and I was completely blinded (even with my tinted goggles) by it. I pretty much tried to follow people in front of me, and when a guy in a kayak was close I asked him which way, and he pointed me in the right direction. When I got back to the boat ramp, I swam as far up the thing as I could, however there was so much slime I couldn't get any traction to get out. I tried my best seal impression and tried to propel myself up the ramp, but I think I looked more like a water buffalo wallowing around in a swamp unable to get anywhere. Fortunately, everyone else was having the same issues, and a number of volunteers came down and started offering hands to people to get out...I grabbed a hand, said thanks, and was on my way out of the water.
Transition 1
I decided to not worry about doing my transitions at breakneck speed after last week's debacles and also the fact that it is a half iron distance and I didn't want to suffer with a rock in my sock. I didn't plan better than I did last week, and was able to get thru the 1st transition without any major hangups or screwups; it probably helped that their bike racks could actually fit my bike without me needing an engineering crew to show me how to rack it. After 3+ minutes, including the 150 yard run to the transition area, I was well on my way on the bike.
The Bike
Those of you who have read my race reports previously know my deep affinity for the bike portion of these races. The winds hadn't let up during the swim (we came to find out later they were 30-40 mph), so the opening portions of the ride felt relatively good as I was holding a steady 24 mph pace with a quartering tailwind. I was feeling pretty good until I got passed by a couple of people, and then a couple more, and then a couple more...what the heck! - this is supposed to be my best discipline. After the first 5 miles I had passed about 3 people and got passed by about 10. My recon the night before did pay dividends when a number of people in the lead group missed a key turn and went off course; I was able to regain my lead (and by the way, I don't feel at all bad about getting my lead back in this way. I mean I was following the signs, and had done my homework, and I didn't feel bad that other folks hadn't) which of course was short lived. However, about 15 miles into the bike course I saw my buddy Tyler with his family (many thanks to them for the support) on the side of the road in their minivan cheering me on in Latvian (He told me after the race that I was in the top 10 at that point...once again, short lived). The course was an out and back and while I did get a few nice stretches of ridiculously awesome tailwind (averaging like 28 mph), I was concerned that if the wind didn't change that would be dealing with these same stretches heading directly into a headwind. By the turn around point I was getting somewhat demoralized with getting passed by a decent number of people (it was certainly a large piece of humble pie for me), but I did do the first half at over 22 mph and I wasn't feeling too bad. The first couple miles after the turn around were headed directly into the headwind, and I couldn't get the bike over 13 mph for probably 15 minutes. As I navigated the bike back over the course, the crosswinds had me leaning sideways to try and keep the bike upright. There were 2 or 3 more portions that were out in the open heading directly into the headwind, and again I was reduced to a crawl for extended periods of time. With about 5 miles left in the bike, the pent up energy of the weather released a rain shower that would've rivaled the rains that got Noah's ark off the ground. I was soaked from head to toe, humbled by my fellow competitors, but holding out hope as I think there was only a single clydesdale who was ahead of me. I took the last few miles gingerly as I didn't want to wipe out on the bike. In the end I ended up with an average of 20.3 mph, which was good considering the conditions, but I was starting to feel the effects.
Transition 2
Fortunately I had put my running shoes and spare socks into a plastic bag as my entire transition area was soaked (it had stopped raining at this point). I got my dry socks on, dry shoes on, and headed out to the run course. It did take me a little while to tie my shoes (I ran in my New Balance 992s as I had used those for longer distances) as I didn't have the Yankz laces and my fingers couldn't manipulate the laces (thanks in large part to the cool weather, wind, and rain). After 3+ minutes I was off and running again.
The Run
So in 1997, while I was living in New England, a buddy of mine convinced me to run the Boston Marathon with him. We didn't qualify (it was actually my first marathon), but he said we could just jump the gate and get into the race. We did just that, but when we jumped the gate, we got in with the runners near the front of the pack (the 6 minute milers) when we probably should've been somewhere further back (with the 8 minute milers). It was an interesting day, as I spent the better part of 3.5 hours getting passed by my fellow runners and feeling like I was the slowest person on earth. Ever since then, I have always told others who are getting into marathoning or doing other types of endurance racing that it is far more fun to start in the back of the crowd and pass people the whole race than it is to get passed all day. Well, the run portion of this triathlon was a lot like that day in Boston back in 1997. While I'd been given my slice of humble pie on the bike, I was served the rest of the pie during the run. It started off going okay, and I was actually able to catch the other clydesdale who beat me off the bike, but it went disastrously downhill from there. I felt like I could never catch my breath (a lot of people have said it was probably the 4600 foot altitude, though I'm not sure I totally buy in on this), and I didn't have a great understanding of where I was on the course (i.e. what mile was I on). After the first 6 miles, I finally felt like things were starting to improve, and I ran (well, lets be real...it was more like waddle) solid for about 3.5 miles. The wheels came off around the 10 mile mark, and the engine blew at about the 11 mile mark. I felt like I had been passed by virtually everyone in the race (I know these events are more of a competition with yourself than with others, but I didn't want to DFL the thing, and I felt like I was headed that way). Several other clydesdales passed me, and of course I shouted encouragement to them, but I was hurtin inside. Much like I did in 1997, I began to wonder why I was subjecting myself to this...this isn't a good thing in sport or in life. Fortunately my fellow competitors brought me out of the doldrums and encouraged me on. I did a bit of walking, and started to run again around the 12.5 mile mark when I knew the finish line was close. I crossed the line and got my medal, and immediately was glad that I stuck it out.
Post Race
My cousin Saundra had come down to support me with her family, so I was glad to see them, and grateful that they came. After they took off I hung out for the awards ceremony and packed up my soaking wet transition area. I saw a lot of the other athletes with their spouses & kids and totally missed mine; they are always such a boon to the spirit after these races. I had some pizza, packed up the car, and got on the road. I swung by my buddy Tyler's place, stopped and got a Super Big Gulp and some nachos at 7-11 (I had been craving the nachos), and made my way back to Saundra's for a nice dinner. All in all a great weekend with extended family, a challenging race, and lots of great tunes in the car. We'll see about this one for next year, but first is the Grizzly Century in October.
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