Silverman race report:
I have done a few tri’s in my day. And I have done even more through my clients. Learning every steep of the way. But sometimes I still get caught up with THE question, “are you a triathlete?”. I don’t label others or my self unless its absolute. Well now there is no question, the Silverman triathlon is the most beautiful and toughest course I have seen. If you are wondering if you should label your self as “Triathlete” or are maybe looking to redefine what you are capable of do this race!
Race: At 5 am my eggs and rice didn’t taste so great but I got it down. A power bar, gel, lots of panicking and we were off! At first I felt no so good the my women’s med. wet suit wasn’t the best fit but after a few minutes I found my rhythm. No sooner than that we hit the windy part of the swim. The swells were… big. I have swam in the ocean, body surfed, played water polo, I have even been thrown off a horse. Swimming in the 2+ foot swells was worse. I was simply being tossed, I could hear the tri geek gods bellowing out in laughter. HAA, HAA, HAA, a road cyclist thinks he can simply run for a few weeks and do this race HHAAAAA!!! And for a few minutes I thought I might not make it! But after some wounded seal like swimming maneuvers I was into the tail wind then back to the cross wind but I was handling it a bit better. I could barely make out the buoys but still managed to swim pretty straight. People were all over the place. At first I tried to find a pair of feet to follow but one wave and they were gone.
Up the chute to T1. pretty smooth. I bent over while sitting down to put my shoes on and my legs, both of them, seized. Ahhhh… “Ok I’ll just pretend that didn’t happen.” Out of the tent to my bike and ... a tail wind greeted me making the ridiculous climb out from the lake a bit easier.
Bike: right away I was passed. A big guy came by, “now for the fun part”, he said. As I watched him pedal away I thought, to hard. He’s mine. It wasn’t long. 5’ or so before I had passed him. “OK EK keep it easy!” I did, just letting my legs fall. The HR was high but the legs felt good. I pushed on. Coming up the first turnaround, Maca was coming the other way, I checked my mileage. Holly crap! I thought. He is really far ahead of me. I began to think that my fasted bike split goal was no longer in the cards… ohh well stick to the plan. I counted the guys in front of me and I was now in the top ten. Nice! Turn around at mile 23, fast riding for a bit and I came into the second half on the course. Hills, big long head wind hills. I passed a few more riders, slower now. Yeah, I thought, I must be in the top ten these guys look good. On to the bike path, Yes a bike path! 3 short climbs back to back. The 3 sisters they are called and I would not want to meet mom or dad. They were biters at 18 percent. I simply “let” them be hard and then pushed as the path turned into the head wind and plowed upward at a low grade. 2% grade + 20mph head wind + 300 watts equals me going some where between 12-15 mph. It was not for the weak minded. I pushed, I caught one more. Boom! Out onto the main roads now more head winds and long gradual climbs. Some fast riding too, 47 mph fast! With 8 to go I was pretty cooked, with 6-5-4 to go I was really, really cooked. I kept stuffing fuel down my throat. I had no more acceleration, but I had enough to hold on.
Into T2.
I put the shoes on, grabbed my food, and was off. “heh, how far ahead is Maca?” I asked “peffff…. Ohh god… like 20 minutes I think?” “Yeah that sounds right”, said his side kick. I was in disbelief. Time to switch hats, or off with the “racing” helmet and on with the lets just finish, hat. Or no hat really, but new shades.
The first mile is slightly down hill. Nice! I liked it. I could find my rhythm with out having to fight to hard. At just over 1 mile you turn right. And into the head wind and up a 2 mile climb. I looked at the profile in my head. I quickly came up with the plan of really keeping it in control as 90% of the up hill running was in the first half, then it was more down hill. I thought make sure I have enough in the tank so that I can “let my legs go” on the down hill. I was on pure feel now. My HR monitor watch had kicked it this past week and with no time I couldn’t even get a round about on my pace. At mile 7 I saw a sign for mile 6. ohh bummer. But half way so that good. wait, is that half way? How far am I running exactly? Ok there’s mile 7 this was right around the time the cramp in my gut started to concern me. I can handle pain, but if it got worse it would start to slow me down. I couldn’t think straight and I could really feel the swim now. My hands started to not work so well. Grabbing water became hard work, my arms felt like lead and at feed zones my response to “what do you need!” had gone from, HEH!! Thanks! umm I’ll have water and ohh are those Oranges, no thanks, water and a gel, thanks guys you rock!!” go Hilleary! To ahh ahh water, go Obama! To here a mile 7, “number 359 what do you need!” …. …. “hey what do you need! …. Are you OK? 3-5-9 are you.. watcoke!... …waaaqalk%$35… it was pretty bad. Then my race brain kicked in again. YO EK, get you s#*% together were barely past half way, your in 6th place! From here to the finish all I could think about is that scene in a football game, when a play goes bad, a fumble happens and some how the 350 lb line backer picks it up and starts running. He probably hasn’t touched a ball in a game in 5 years and looks like a wounded doe on ice trying to run. His teammates run up, and try to block for him. He thunders on, slowing now with every steep. I bet that guy isn’t even thinking End Zone! He’s just thinking, when I get hit by the 5 guys running 10mph faster than me, don’t drop the ball! Don’t drop the ball EK!
Think! This is getting worse and your to far from the line to tough it out… number 359 wh… Pretzels!! I had been taking in my normal electrolyte levels and while it wasn’t hot we are in the dessert and energy usage was high. This combined with drinking water on the run (can’t do the Gatorade) was making my tummy low on salt. Or was it? I had to go for it. 1 mile later I was doing better and just in time as the down hills came. “great job 359 what ... COKE, AND WATER! The racing brain was back. Next set helpers “hey great job loo…! Water! Water!! “ahh we’re just cheering” “ohh sorry” The last 5 k was brutal. Things started popping into my head. Mostly a family friend who lost a long, long battle with cancer a few years back. Don’t know why I thought of her. Maybe she’s in Las Vegas? I was trying to pick up my pace, come on EK top ten top ten can’t get passed again!!,
I put down another gel and finished her off. I could hear the announcer as I came down the chute the crowd was insane, Eric Kenney coming in from Boulder, CO. looking strong!!
When I finished I was a bit over whelmed. Zach was there. And thank good. A volunteer came over, are you OK do you need the medical tent? Ahh… do I? I asked Zach. No, not yet anyway, food, recovery drink. I sat down, shock a few hands, and got a message. Everyone was talking about the water and the wind on the bike path! It was brutal. Everyone that had raced gave you this look. It was this look that said, wow dude, you made it too. Congratulations. You’re a Triathlete.
Early results and stats:
Swim: 29th, 37’ hard as hell.
Bike: 3rd, avg HR 176 (threshold 183-185)
Estimated avg wattage 285-300
Run: ?, ?, ?, harder than hell.
6th over 2rd in age group.
