Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Race Report - Gasparilla Marathon - 3/1/09
Many of you know I was training to run a marathon at the Gasparilla race this last Sunday, 3/1/09 in Tampa so I wanted to tell a little story about my marathon adventure.
Looking back, my training for the marathon started in late September as my running with the 5:30am Saturday morning crew behind the Lifestyle Family Fitness became more consistent and the mileage started to creep up. Thanks to Silke, Margot, Paula, Matt, Laura, Rose, Sandy, Matt and the many others in the group who made it enjoyable and easy to wake up early to go for a run. Training continued and runs became longer over the coming months as I though about trying to break the 4 hour marathon mark and my only previous time of 4:09:58 from Chicago in 2005. I apologize for the very specific time, but I just don't feel right saying 4:09 and 4:10 is a vast overstatement of my initial marathon time, so 4:09:58 it is! My stated goal was to run the Gasparilla marathon in under 4 hours and my secret goal was to run it in 3:50.
In addition to the many memorable runs I had leading up to the race; my last long run stands out as an epic training run that taught me about speed, perseverance and mental focus. This was a 22 mile run with Dair, a fellow runner I met on the Suncoast Trail in my last month of training. Dair is a marathoner who routinely wins her age group and helped me hold a nice, steady pace during this long run. Over the last 5 miles of this run, she encouraged me to pick up the pace and explained that in the last 2 miles, you needed to "kick". Putting this into practice on the training run tested my ability to remain focused and to run hard and fast when my mind was telling me to slow down and stop. I actually felt like my limbs were going to fly in all directions and I used every trick I knew to remain focused (visualize the finish line, repeat a personal mantra, count your steps, pretend you have an giant rubber band pulling you to the finish line, etc.) as I ran as fast as I could to the finish. I ran that final mile a full 1.5 minutes faster than we had run the previous 19 and I was also only 2 beats shy of a new maximum heart rate. That is what Dair meant by a kick! Got it...I'll remember it!
Race morning came and I was healthy, hydrated and ready to run. It was cool and humid out and I hitched a lift with Mark and two friends down from Charlotte, NC, Errol and Matt. Thankfully Matt handled all the stress of driving in race morning traffic and finding a parking space near the start. We all walked toward the Convention Center and I took off ahead to check my gear bag and get queued up in the starting chute. The beginning of this race is a little tight with narrow roads and a bridge within the first mile, so I wanted to try to get into the front of the bunch. I saw my friends Tammy and Irene as I made my way in the crowd and stopped to stretch and get ready for the gun.
The mumbling of the announcer was followed by a nice National Anthem followed by more mumbling and we were off. Less than 2 minutes after the race clock started, I crossed the line and my fancy, disposable RFID chip registered my start time of 6:02am. The first miles were predictably slow due to the traffic and the bridge, but it really opened up after 2 miles and I started to lift the pace. It was noticeably humid and I was sweating pretty hard for so early in the race and started to think about drinking more to account for the humidity. I don't remember much about the first 10 miles, but I was running near my goal pace and I was feeling pretty good. On multiple sections of the course, you can see runners coming out on the same street you're headed in on and somewhere after mile 10; I saw the pace team running with the 3:50 sign coming out of the street I was entering. I was encouraged. I didn't know how much further ahead they were, but at least I saw them ahead of me and it gave me something to shoot for. I kept drinking water and Gatorade and taking my GU energy gels every 45 minutes or so as I had done on so many training runs and I was now feeling good and also a little hopeful.
Coming out of that neighborhood, I felt a few rain drops and noticed that the wind had come up a bit as we turned onto Bayshore Drive. Looking across the horizon, I could see it. It was coming right towards us. It was dark and wet and windy and I remember saying to myself, "I'm going to get wet!" I was right. The race changed in the span of 15 minutes as the weather moved in from the West. I was now running into the wind with a steady sprinkling of rain, not a downpour, but more than a mist. The wind is what I remember and I was blown side to side a few times and at times was running right into the wind. My visor blew off and I had to chase it down behind me twice before I decided to just carry it. I put a nice wet, black shoe print on the brim, but I think it will come out in the wash. To keep motivated, I try to find someone up ahead of me in the distance and pass them. I noticed a distinct salmon colored race top and a white hat ahead of me and I started to slowly catch up. It took over 2 miles to close the gap and I was struck with how strong this person was running and congratulated her for running so well and introduced myself. I explained that she'd been my "rabbit" for the last 2 miles and we started chatting as we ran a mile together. I learned that she had similar goals for the race and since she was running at almost exactly my goal pace, we decided to run together for a while. Her name was Cheryl and she was from South Carolina.
Cheryl and I clicked off a number of miles together in the wind and rain and I kept track of our splits. We passed the 3:50 pace group and that was exciting. We were still on pace with a few faster miles and a couple of windy slower ones to balance things out. There was one particular stretch that was very windy and we were running right into it. That was tough, but we kept pushing until we merely had a cross wind and finally a tail wind. I didn't announce that mile split and Cheryl didn't ask. We could see the 20 mile mark and we knew we only had a 10k left to run. I remember one of us saying "...only 10k left...no problem!" The mile markers didn't seem to come as fast, but my watch told a different story. We were still running very consistently and both of us were feeling pretty good. We hit the 22 mile marker and Cheryl mentioned that it would be OK if I wanted to pick up the pace. We ran together for the next mile, but somewhere within that mile, I lost sight of the salmon jersey and white hat in my peripheral vision. I was getting ready to "kick".
In the last 3 miles, there was a crowd of kids and adults lining one side of the street cheering for the runners. They all had matching t-shirts and I can't remember what it said, but I will always remember those kids shouting, hooting, making noise and calling my name as I ran past. I slid over and slapped a few wet and windy, high-fives and I ran past. I was now charged up for the "kick" and I picked up the pace as I entered the final 2 miles. I stopped looking at my splits and my heart rate and focused on running faster. I'm sure the rain and wind were still there, but I don't remember it. I remember what my wife Michelle said to me when my alarm went off at 3:45am. "Run strong and finish fast", she said. That became my mantra that I repeated over and over in my head as my mind was receiving all sorts of distress signals from my legs, lungs and heart. The mantra became my focus and I blocked out the pain and thought of my epic training run with Dair where I had learned how to "kick". I just kept running and telling myself to run strong and finish fast. I could see the finish line ahead. I didn't have to visualize it; it was right in front of me. I remember raising my arms to encourage the crowd to cheer and I ran strong and finished fast as the very wet spectators yelled for me. The finish is now a blur of a very heavy finisher metal, a Mylar wrap that kept blowing off my shoulders and a now bone chilling rain that chilled me to my core once I stopped exerting. I am very happy to say that my official time was clocked by that fancy RFID chip on my shoe as 3 hours, 45 minutes and 2 seconds, or 3:45:02. Almost 25 minutes faster than my initial marathon time and a full 5 minutes faster than my secret goal. I couldn't be more pleased with the results! For more results, check out http://www.tampabayrun.com/.
Thank you to everyone who helped me achieve my marathon goal. Thank you to my wife, Michelle for her patience and understanding as I spent many Saturday mornings running around Tampa and to the support and encouragement of my kids (Daddy, you going running today?) as I trained. Thank you to Paula and the constant support of the running group on Saturday mornings. Thank you to Dair for teaching me to kick and thank you to Cheryl from South Carolina for being my rabbit and for running so consistently and keeping me on pace for the second half of the race. Cheryl finished in 3:48:34 (great job!)
Congratulations to everyone who ran this weekend and thanks for sharing in my marathon adventure. I'll see you soon.
Dave
Looking back, my training for the marathon started in late September as my running with the 5:30am Saturday morning crew behind the Lifestyle Family Fitness became more consistent and the mileage started to creep up. Thanks to Silke, Margot, Paula, Matt, Laura, Rose, Sandy, Matt and the many others in the group who made it enjoyable and easy to wake up early to go for a run. Training continued and runs became longer over the coming months as I though about trying to break the 4 hour marathon mark and my only previous time of 4:09:58 from Chicago in 2005. I apologize for the very specific time, but I just don't feel right saying 4:09 and 4:10 is a vast overstatement of my initial marathon time, so 4:09:58 it is! My stated goal was to run the Gasparilla marathon in under 4 hours and my secret goal was to run it in 3:50.
In addition to the many memorable runs I had leading up to the race; my last long run stands out as an epic training run that taught me about speed, perseverance and mental focus. This was a 22 mile run with Dair, a fellow runner I met on the Suncoast Trail in my last month of training. Dair is a marathoner who routinely wins her age group and helped me hold a nice, steady pace during this long run. Over the last 5 miles of this run, she encouraged me to pick up the pace and explained that in the last 2 miles, you needed to "kick". Putting this into practice on the training run tested my ability to remain focused and to run hard and fast when my mind was telling me to slow down and stop. I actually felt like my limbs were going to fly in all directions and I used every trick I knew to remain focused (visualize the finish line, repeat a personal mantra, count your steps, pretend you have an giant rubber band pulling you to the finish line, etc.) as I ran as fast as I could to the finish. I ran that final mile a full 1.5 minutes faster than we had run the previous 19 and I was also only 2 beats shy of a new maximum heart rate. That is what Dair meant by a kick! Got it...I'll remember it!
Race morning came and I was healthy, hydrated and ready to run. It was cool and humid out and I hitched a lift with Mark and two friends down from Charlotte, NC, Errol and Matt. Thankfully Matt handled all the stress of driving in race morning traffic and finding a parking space near the start. We all walked toward the Convention Center and I took off ahead to check my gear bag and get queued up in the starting chute. The beginning of this race is a little tight with narrow roads and a bridge within the first mile, so I wanted to try to get into the front of the bunch. I saw my friends Tammy and Irene as I made my way in the crowd and stopped to stretch and get ready for the gun.
The mumbling of the announcer was followed by a nice National Anthem followed by more mumbling and we were off. Less than 2 minutes after the race clock started, I crossed the line and my fancy, disposable RFID chip registered my start time of 6:02am. The first miles were predictably slow due to the traffic and the bridge, but it really opened up after 2 miles and I started to lift the pace. It was noticeably humid and I was sweating pretty hard for so early in the race and started to think about drinking more to account for the humidity. I don't remember much about the first 10 miles, but I was running near my goal pace and I was feeling pretty good. On multiple sections of the course, you can see runners coming out on the same street you're headed in on and somewhere after mile 10; I saw the pace team running with the 3:50 sign coming out of the street I was entering. I was encouraged. I didn't know how much further ahead they were, but at least I saw them ahead of me and it gave me something to shoot for. I kept drinking water and Gatorade and taking my GU energy gels every 45 minutes or so as I had done on so many training runs and I was now feeling good and also a little hopeful.
Coming out of that neighborhood, I felt a few rain drops and noticed that the wind had come up a bit as we turned onto Bayshore Drive. Looking across the horizon, I could see it. It was coming right towards us. It was dark and wet and windy and I remember saying to myself, "I'm going to get wet!" I was right. The race changed in the span of 15 minutes as the weather moved in from the West. I was now running into the wind with a steady sprinkling of rain, not a downpour, but more than a mist. The wind is what I remember and I was blown side to side a few times and at times was running right into the wind. My visor blew off and I had to chase it down behind me twice before I decided to just carry it. I put a nice wet, black shoe print on the brim, but I think it will come out in the wash. To keep motivated, I try to find someone up ahead of me in the distance and pass them. I noticed a distinct salmon colored race top and a white hat ahead of me and I started to slowly catch up. It took over 2 miles to close the gap and I was struck with how strong this person was running and congratulated her for running so well and introduced myself. I explained that she'd been my "rabbit" for the last 2 miles and we started chatting as we ran a mile together. I learned that she had similar goals for the race and since she was running at almost exactly my goal pace, we decided to run together for a while. Her name was Cheryl and she was from South Carolina.
Cheryl and I clicked off a number of miles together in the wind and rain and I kept track of our splits. We passed the 3:50 pace group and that was exciting. We were still on pace with a few faster miles and a couple of windy slower ones to balance things out. There was one particular stretch that was very windy and we were running right into it. That was tough, but we kept pushing until we merely had a cross wind and finally a tail wind. I didn't announce that mile split and Cheryl didn't ask. We could see the 20 mile mark and we knew we only had a 10k left to run. I remember one of us saying "...only 10k left...no problem!" The mile markers didn't seem to come as fast, but my watch told a different story. We were still running very consistently and both of us were feeling pretty good. We hit the 22 mile marker and Cheryl mentioned that it would be OK if I wanted to pick up the pace. We ran together for the next mile, but somewhere within that mile, I lost sight of the salmon jersey and white hat in my peripheral vision. I was getting ready to "kick".
In the last 3 miles, there was a crowd of kids and adults lining one side of the street cheering for the runners. They all had matching t-shirts and I can't remember what it said, but I will always remember those kids shouting, hooting, making noise and calling my name as I ran past. I slid over and slapped a few wet and windy, high-fives and I ran past. I was now charged up for the "kick" and I picked up the pace as I entered the final 2 miles. I stopped looking at my splits and my heart rate and focused on running faster. I'm sure the rain and wind were still there, but I don't remember it. I remember what my wife Michelle said to me when my alarm went off at 3:45am. "Run strong and finish fast", she said. That became my mantra that I repeated over and over in my head as my mind was receiving all sorts of distress signals from my legs, lungs and heart. The mantra became my focus and I blocked out the pain and thought of my epic training run with Dair where I had learned how to "kick". I just kept running and telling myself to run strong and finish fast. I could see the finish line ahead. I didn't have to visualize it; it was right in front of me. I remember raising my arms to encourage the crowd to cheer and I ran strong and finished fast as the very wet spectators yelled for me. The finish is now a blur of a very heavy finisher metal, a Mylar wrap that kept blowing off my shoulders and a now bone chilling rain that chilled me to my core once I stopped exerting. I am very happy to say that my official time was clocked by that fancy RFID chip on my shoe as 3 hours, 45 minutes and 2 seconds, or 3:45:02. Almost 25 minutes faster than my initial marathon time and a full 5 minutes faster than my secret goal. I couldn't be more pleased with the results! For more results, check out http://www.tampabayrun.com/.
Thank you to everyone who helped me achieve my marathon goal. Thank you to my wife, Michelle for her patience and understanding as I spent many Saturday mornings running around Tampa and to the support and encouragement of my kids (Daddy, you going running today?) as I trained. Thank you to Paula and the constant support of the running group on Saturday mornings. Thank you to Dair for teaching me to kick and thank you to Cheryl from South Carolina for being my rabbit and for running so consistently and keeping me on pace for the second half of the race. Cheryl finished in 3:48:34 (great job!)
Congratulations to everyone who ran this weekend and thanks for sharing in my marathon adventure. I'll see you soon.
Dave
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tour of California 2009 - Stage 7 Santa Clarita to Pasadena
"No chalk!" shouted the Pasadena police officer as I stood on the side of the road waiting for the cyclists to come up the hill in stage 7 of the Tour of California.
After 2 years of trying, I was finally able to see the bike race and as I settled into my spot on the guardrail of a road encircling the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, the cop shouted again, "No chalk"! The two young girls squatting in the middle of the road looked frightened as Pasadena's finest made it perfectly clear that this stretch of pavement wasn't going to be defaced in the way Alpe d’Huez is defaced each year in France. 
There will be no chalk on the roads today, except for the meager "Go" without the "O" filled in. The mood was festive even without the chalk and the open beer bottles didn't seem to bother the officer. Perhaps he's just not a cycling fan, or doesn't understand the traditions. No matter.
This was my first bike race and I was thrilled as the volume increased as the oncoming leaders came charging up the hill for their first of five laps around the Rose Bowl. The gap between the leaders and the peloton was over three minutes and when the rest of the group came up the hill, it was impressive. The group filled the road and the team cars were in hot pursuit. It was just like I'd seen on TV. Very cool.
After three laps, a small group of fans started down the hill towards the finish. I tagged along, introduced myself and was quickly adopted by my new local cycling family. Pete and his wife Lisa are members of a cycling club that rides these same roads around the Rose Bowl each week in organized group rides. We talked about cycling, running, triathlon and the perfect spot they had secured the previous day at the Solvang time trial stage. We edged our way towards the finish line, but the crowd was too thick to see, so we watched the finish on the big-screen TV. We ended up in the middle of all the pros slowly pedaling across the parking lot towards the team buses and were able to spot a number of big names as they slowly wheeled by. Very cool.
After 2 years of trying, I was finally able to see the bike race and as I settled into my spot on the guardrail of a road encircling the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, the cop shouted again, "No chalk"! The two young girls squatting in the middle of the road looked frightened as Pasadena's finest made it perfectly clear that this stretch of pavement wasn't going to be defaced in the way Alpe d’Huez is defaced each year in France. 
There will be no chalk on the roads today, except for the meager "Go" without the "O" filled in. The mood was festive even without the chalk and the open beer bottles didn't seem to bother the officer. Perhaps he's just not a cycling fan, or doesn't understand the traditions. No matter. I started the day in Santa Clarita at the start chute of the stage and was able to get a couple of autographs, including Mark Cavendish and big Thor Hushovd and see all the pro cyclists line up for the start. Lance Armstrong was there in a very stylish yellow and black, LiveStrong cycling vest and he encouraged everyone to take a small box of yellow chalk that the Nike-clad volunteers were handing out. Perhaps the cop didn't like Lance or thought he hadn't come by his seven Tour wins honestly? Hard to know.
This was my first bike race and I was thrilled as the volume increased as the oncoming leaders came charging up the hill for their first of five laps around the Rose Bowl. The gap between the leaders and the peloton was over three minutes and when the rest of the group came up the hill, it was impressive. The group filled the road and the team cars were in hot pursuit. It was just like I'd seen on TV. Very cool. 
After three laps, a small group of fans started down the hill towards the finish. I tagged along, introduced myself and was quickly adopted by my new local cycling family. Pete and his wife Lisa are members of a cycling club that rides these same roads around the Rose Bowl each week in organized group rides. We talked about cycling, running, triathlon and the perfect spot they had secured the previous day at the Solvang time trial stage. We edged our way towards the finish line, but the crowd was too thick to see, so we watched the finish on the big-screen TV. We ended up in the middle of all the pros slowly pedaling across the parking lot towards the team buses and were able to spot a number of big names as they slowly wheeled by. Very cool.Lots of others had the same idea as we walked over to the buses to get autographs and pictures.
The Astana bus was mobbed as Lance was out and signing. George Hincape popped out of the Team Columbia Highroad bus to sign everything that was handed to him for a few minutes. He was very gracious and did his best to get to everyone. He's a class act.
The Astana bus was mobbed as Lance was out and signing. George Hincape popped out of the Team Columbia Highroad bus to sign everything that was handed to him for a few minutes. He was very gracious and did his best to get to everyone. He's a class act. The bike race was a blast and I recommend everyone get out to support cycling events in the US. It's really something to see and the American teams are really strong. I'm thankful I hooked up with such nice people at the race who could show me how it's done. I look forward to my next California trip. Perhaps it will work out again to see the Tour of California...next time with more chalk.
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Race Report - Escape from Ft. Desoto 4/17/2004
Hey Everyone - I completed my second triathlon this last Saturday, April 17 and felt pretty good about it! I convinced 3 co-workers (John, Mike and Ricardo) to train and compete in the Escape from Ft. Desoto triathlon. This made me the veteran of the group with one under my belt from last November. This race was a 1/2 mile open-water swim in the Gulf of Mexico, a 10.5 mile bike ride and a 3.1 mile run including an evil stair climb up to the top of Ft. Desoto and back down the other side.
My race stats went something like this:
Overall time 1 hour 13 min 56 sec
Swim 12 min 14 sec 51 yards/min
Bike 32 min 07 sec 19.6 mph average speed
Run 25 min 51 sec 8 min 20 sec average mile pace
Placement in age group 23rd out of 66 racers, ~35 percentile
Placement overall 205 out of 714, ~29 percentile
We had a fun day and everyone met their own personal goals for the race. I think I've hooked all three of them to do more races over the summer and we're also looking for a race to run as a 3 man relay. It's been a great excuse to train and get fit and we all had a blast.
This link to the race web-site contains info about the race as well as the official results http://www.escapefromftdesoto.com
Photos are on-line
http://www.ofoto.com/I.jsp?c=2tekjib.81kptx7z&x=0&y=g5xsvr
Race Diary - 2004 Escape from Fort Desoto sprint triathlon
April 17, 2004 - really early
The day started at 4:30am when the alarm went off and Michelle and I wearily got out of bed. The Friday night before, Michelle and I had hosted the Cub Scout Blue & Gold awards banquet which we co-chaired and had been busy taking down rented 8 foot tables in the church hall and cleaning up until about 10pm. I think my eyes closed at 11:30pm and 4:30 came quickly. I had packed my bike and transition items the night before, so I just needed to shower, eat and get my last few race items together. We were on the road to St. Petersburg at 5:10am and arrived at Fort Desoto park shortly after 6am. I knew we were in trouble when I spotted the huge, 60 foot US garrison flag blowing nearly horizontal in the morning wind...the same wind I'd be riding into for a portion of the bike. We parked and I realized quickly it was dark and chilly this morning as I unpacked my bike and put air in the tires. There were enough cars coming and going that I was able to see what I was doing well enough to get 120 lbs in the tires for the race. I loaded everything up, including Michelle with my stuff, and we walked over to the race registration area for check-in and body marking. In these races, they take a fat magic marker and write your number on each arm, down the side of each leg and write your age on your left calf. Having everyone's age prominently displayed lets you size up your competition and also feel wimpy when a 55 year old blows by you on the bike or in the run. Ahhh, the competition!
Off to the swim start - 7:15am
After check-in, and getting my bike and equipment staged in the transition area, we located the other PwC Tri-Guys (Mike, John and Ricardo), took a few photos and made one last bathroom stop before the walk up the beach to the swim start. As we came down the sandy trail to the beach, I could see the orange and yellow buoys that marked the final turn of the swim finish about 150 feet offshore. I looked way up the shore and just barely visible on the horizon, obscured by the curvature of the earth, was the swim start. OK, I exaggerated, but it was a lot further than I expected. I've never really marked off a half mile of Florida gulf coast before, so seeing nearly 9 football fields of open water between the yellow buoys made me begin to wonder why I got up this morning. The water temperature was a brisk 69 degrees which made it legal to race in wetsuits. I had borrowed my "Ironman" neighbors full-length, racing wetsuit and decided to use it for the race, if for nothing but the comedic memory of trying to get out of it after the swim in the transition area. We snapped a few more photos, took small warm-up swims to check the water and then gave our attention to the announcer and the national anthem. After the singing and a big cheer, they called the first wave of swimmers to the starting chute. The elites and young guys go first, followed every 3 minutes by another wave of athletes. I was in the 3rd wave and wearing a fetching pink swim cap like the other 65 racers in my age group. Ricardo was in the second wave wearing a blue cap and he was off! Our group was called and I took up a position on the right of the main start group, so as not to get run over by the fast swimmers or catch an errant foot or arm to my goggles. They gave a blast of the horn and I was off, high-stepping over the waves and out to a swim-able depth where I plunged into the chilly water and began to freestyle. I could feel people hitting my feet while I tried not to swim directly into the kicking feet ahead of me. For a while, I was sandwiched between 2 other pink-caps and our arms were dangerously close to tangling as we each struggled to break free from the pack. We quickly came up to the yellow buoy which signaled the time for a hard left turn and a long strech of swimming parallel to the shore. Every few strokes I would lift my head and look forward to sight my next buoy so I didn't get off course. Traffic was beginning to thin as I found my rhythm and moved my way down the course. I was feeling pretty good and when I was about 2/3 of the way, I started to see blue cap swimmers. This was a very good sign as I'd caught the group that started 3 minutes ahead of us. I didn't know it at the time, but I must have passed Ricardo somewhere in there as I came out of the water 4 minutes ahead of him. I saw the final yellow buoy and hung a left towards the shore, swimming until the water was too shallow and then I got to my feet and ran up the beach, headed for the transition area. I peeled my wetsuit off to my waist and kept running until I found my bike. I wasn't too hard to get out of the wetsuit, but I just had to smile remembering how awkward I felt when I did this in the privacy of our bathroom at home...not exactly a graceful dance. I snapped on my helmet and shoes, put on my sunglasses and grabbed my bike and hustled out of transition and jumped on.
The Bike - Race start + 14 minutes and 30 seconds
I felt good as I got started on the ride, but quickly felt the headwind as I pulled out onto the main road. I was passing people, paying careful attention not to draft or break any of the other cycling rules about passing or riding close to others. I was feeling the headwind and couldn't get my speed up to my target of 20 mph. I was stuck somewhere between 16 and 18 for most of the first few miles. I knew the pain of the headwind would become my friend at the turnaround, so I kept pushing hard until I saw the turn. I got a new blast of energy as I rounded the turnaround and headed back with a nice tailwind helping push me on. Somewhere in here I hit my maximum speed of 24+ mph and I was feeling good, but a little thirsty. I was riding with my hands down on the aero-bars and I reached for my drink bottle. The cap was stuck down so as I was focused on pulling it up so I could grab the bottle and take a drink, I ran right off the road into the gravel and grass. I quickly forgot the bottle and got both hands back on the handlebars and maintained control as I bumped along the side of the road and was promptly passed by a cyclist I has just zoomed by a few seconds earlier. I managed to keep myself upright and cut back onto the pavement and set my sights on the rider who passed me. I got back into a groove and passed him again and kept going. I did manage to get a drink without falling off my bike a little later, but as I found in training, it's all about peddling, sweating and breathing hard. I was doing all 3 and felt pretty good about my speed as I came into the second turnaround. I made the turn and headed back into the headwind and heard Mike yell "Go, Dave Go" as he sped by towards the 2nd turnaround. Mike had started 3 minutes behind me and was closing the gap fast as I approached the end of the bike ride. I saw the turn-in at the end of the bike course and shifted into a lower gear to get my legs spinning faster in anticipation of the transition to the run. My hopped off my bike and ran it back to my spot and quickly changed into my running shoes and grabbed my hat and was off.
The Run - Race start + 48 minutes and change
The 2 signature traits of the Escape from Ft. Desoto race is the stair climb and decent at the beginning of the run and the first mile on semi-loose sand. I was breathing hard coming out of the transition area and headed for the stairs. I saw Michelle snapping pictures and I approached the base and made the left turn to begin the climb. My calves didn't feel so good and I was afraid they would both cramp up if I pushed it too hard, so I took it a little slow up the steps and down the other side. My calf muscles immediately went into complaining mode as I started out on the loose sandy run, but I learned from training to not listen to your leg muscles much when you're in that first 1/2 mile after a bike ride. Nothing you do feels right and my neighbor Scott described the feeling as having "baby giraffe legs" and I agree. The first mile felt really slow and my split time confirmed a 9 minute mile pace. I was looking forward to the solid pavement and a cool drink of water at the mile marker. I watched the volunteer with 2 cups of water extend them to the runners ahead of me. The first one grabbed a cup and chugged it down and the guy directly in front of me was waving him off, but at the last minute decided he did want it, reached for it and while failing to actually get his hands on the cup, knocked it out of the volunteer's hands. I watched as my cup of water was now making steam on the pavement as I pounded on by avoiding the numerous empty paper cups littering the trail. I was still thirsty and fresh, clean water was not my friend today. I picked up my pace and ran just over an 8 minute mile for the second mile and was trying to find the energy and focus for my fast-paced last mile. In training, I'd focus on an object in the distance, concentrate on my breathing and form and start to fly, but I never quite got it all working as well as I hoped. It was at this time that I thought Mike would catch me. Every time I heard footsteps approaching, I assumed Mike would call out my name and we'd race it in. Well, Mike was not far behind and while he didn't catch me on the run, he did beat my time by about 1:40. Mike is much faster than I am and I was looking forward to chasing him to the finish line for a faster finish. As it was, my 3rd mile was just under 8 minute pace and I had a little left for the sprint for the finish.
The Finish - Race start + 1 hour, 13 minutes and 56 seconds
I did it! I finished my second triathlon and felt pretty good about how I'd done. The real fun began as the rest of the PwC Tri-Guys started to finish and we all started taking pictures and swapping stories. We heard about John's chain problems on his bike just outside of the transition area and hear about Ricardo's swim. His wife was getting concerned that he might need to be rescued since he'd been out there for so long, but he eventually made it in and after a leisurely transition, ran the rest of his race strong. Mike was our fastest and made up great ground on the bike and during the run and finished with an amazing 1:12:16 time. Not bad for a first-timer. After we all re-hydrated and pigged out on the snacks at the after-race buffet, we headed our separate ways, wheeled our mighty bikes back to our cars with our racing packs in tow and vowed to do it again and again!
We're hooked!
On the drive home...
We had just left Fort Desoto park and a car pulled up next to us and franticly motioned us to roll down our window. We did and they guy and girl asked if there was actually an In-N-Out Burger in Florida! They had seen our license plate frame and were from San Diego and were hoping that there was one of these great burger joints in FL. The girl actually exclaimed that she was a vegetarian ( a Vegan in her words ) and she'd happily chow down on some In-N-Out if she was given the chance. We all laughed and wished there was, but there isn't...yet! Take a look at www.In-N-Out.com to see what I'm talking about.
My race stats went something like this:
Overall time 1 hour 13 min 56 sec
Swim 12 min 14 sec 51 yards/min
Bike 32 min 07 sec 19.6 mph average speed
Run 25 min 51 sec 8 min 20 sec average mile pace
Placement in age group 23rd out of 66 racers, ~35 percentile
Placement overall 205 out of 714, ~29 percentile
We had a fun day and everyone met their own personal goals for the race. I think I've hooked all three of them to do more races over the summer and we're also looking for a race to run as a 3 man relay. It's been a great excuse to train and get fit and we all had a blast.
This link to the race web-site contains info about the race as well as the official results http://www.escapefromftdesoto.com
Photos are on-line
http://www.ofoto.com/I.jsp?c=2tekjib.81kptx7z&x=0&y=g5xsvr
Race Diary - 2004 Escape from Fort Desoto sprint triathlon
April 17, 2004 - really early
The day started at 4:30am when the alarm went off and Michelle and I wearily got out of bed. The Friday night before, Michelle and I had hosted the Cub Scout Blue & Gold awards banquet which we co-chaired and had been busy taking down rented 8 foot tables in the church hall and cleaning up until about 10pm. I think my eyes closed at 11:30pm and 4:30 came quickly. I had packed my bike and transition items the night before, so I just needed to shower, eat and get my last few race items together. We were on the road to St. Petersburg at 5:10am and arrived at Fort Desoto park shortly after 6am. I knew we were in trouble when I spotted the huge, 60 foot US garrison flag blowing nearly horizontal in the morning wind...the same wind I'd be riding into for a portion of the bike. We parked and I realized quickly it was dark and chilly this morning as I unpacked my bike and put air in the tires. There were enough cars coming and going that I was able to see what I was doing well enough to get 120 lbs in the tires for the race. I loaded everything up, including Michelle with my stuff, and we walked over to the race registration area for check-in and body marking. In these races, they take a fat magic marker and write your number on each arm, down the side of each leg and write your age on your left calf. Having everyone's age prominently displayed lets you size up your competition and also feel wimpy when a 55 year old blows by you on the bike or in the run. Ahhh, the competition!
Off to the swim start - 7:15am
After check-in, and getting my bike and equipment staged in the transition area, we located the other PwC Tri-Guys (Mike, John and Ricardo), took a few photos and made one last bathroom stop before the walk up the beach to the swim start. As we came down the sandy trail to the beach, I could see the orange and yellow buoys that marked the final turn of the swim finish about 150 feet offshore. I looked way up the shore and just barely visible on the horizon, obscured by the curvature of the earth, was the swim start. OK, I exaggerated, but it was a lot further than I expected. I've never really marked off a half mile of Florida gulf coast before, so seeing nearly 9 football fields of open water between the yellow buoys made me begin to wonder why I got up this morning. The water temperature was a brisk 69 degrees which made it legal to race in wetsuits. I had borrowed my "Ironman" neighbors full-length, racing wetsuit and decided to use it for the race, if for nothing but the comedic memory of trying to get out of it after the swim in the transition area. We snapped a few more photos, took small warm-up swims to check the water and then gave our attention to the announcer and the national anthem. After the singing and a big cheer, they called the first wave of swimmers to the starting chute. The elites and young guys go first, followed every 3 minutes by another wave of athletes. I was in the 3rd wave and wearing a fetching pink swim cap like the other 65 racers in my age group. Ricardo was in the second wave wearing a blue cap and he was off! Our group was called and I took up a position on the right of the main start group, so as not to get run over by the fast swimmers or catch an errant foot or arm to my goggles. They gave a blast of the horn and I was off, high-stepping over the waves and out to a swim-able depth where I plunged into the chilly water and began to freestyle. I could feel people hitting my feet while I tried not to swim directly into the kicking feet ahead of me. For a while, I was sandwiched between 2 other pink-caps and our arms were dangerously close to tangling as we each struggled to break free from the pack. We quickly came up to the yellow buoy which signaled the time for a hard left turn and a long strech of swimming parallel to the shore. Every few strokes I would lift my head and look forward to sight my next buoy so I didn't get off course. Traffic was beginning to thin as I found my rhythm and moved my way down the course. I was feeling pretty good and when I was about 2/3 of the way, I started to see blue cap swimmers. This was a very good sign as I'd caught the group that started 3 minutes ahead of us. I didn't know it at the time, but I must have passed Ricardo somewhere in there as I came out of the water 4 minutes ahead of him. I saw the final yellow buoy and hung a left towards the shore, swimming until the water was too shallow and then I got to my feet and ran up the beach, headed for the transition area. I peeled my wetsuit off to my waist and kept running until I found my bike. I wasn't too hard to get out of the wetsuit, but I just had to smile remembering how awkward I felt when I did this in the privacy of our bathroom at home...not exactly a graceful dance. I snapped on my helmet and shoes, put on my sunglasses and grabbed my bike and hustled out of transition and jumped on.
The Bike - Race start + 14 minutes and 30 seconds
I felt good as I got started on the ride, but quickly felt the headwind as I pulled out onto the main road. I was passing people, paying careful attention not to draft or break any of the other cycling rules about passing or riding close to others. I was feeling the headwind and couldn't get my speed up to my target of 20 mph. I was stuck somewhere between 16 and 18 for most of the first few miles. I knew the pain of the headwind would become my friend at the turnaround, so I kept pushing hard until I saw the turn. I got a new blast of energy as I rounded the turnaround and headed back with a nice tailwind helping push me on. Somewhere in here I hit my maximum speed of 24+ mph and I was feeling good, but a little thirsty. I was riding with my hands down on the aero-bars and I reached for my drink bottle. The cap was stuck down so as I was focused on pulling it up so I could grab the bottle and take a drink, I ran right off the road into the gravel and grass. I quickly forgot the bottle and got both hands back on the handlebars and maintained control as I bumped along the side of the road and was promptly passed by a cyclist I has just zoomed by a few seconds earlier. I managed to keep myself upright and cut back onto the pavement and set my sights on the rider who passed me. I got back into a groove and passed him again and kept going. I did manage to get a drink without falling off my bike a little later, but as I found in training, it's all about peddling, sweating and breathing hard. I was doing all 3 and felt pretty good about my speed as I came into the second turnaround. I made the turn and headed back into the headwind and heard Mike yell "Go, Dave Go" as he sped by towards the 2nd turnaround. Mike had started 3 minutes behind me and was closing the gap fast as I approached the end of the bike ride. I saw the turn-in at the end of the bike course and shifted into a lower gear to get my legs spinning faster in anticipation of the transition to the run. My hopped off my bike and ran it back to my spot and quickly changed into my running shoes and grabbed my hat and was off.
The Run - Race start + 48 minutes and change
The 2 signature traits of the Escape from Ft. Desoto race is the stair climb and decent at the beginning of the run and the first mile on semi-loose sand. I was breathing hard coming out of the transition area and headed for the stairs. I saw Michelle snapping pictures and I approached the base and made the left turn to begin the climb. My calves didn't feel so good and I was afraid they would both cramp up if I pushed it too hard, so I took it a little slow up the steps and down the other side. My calf muscles immediately went into complaining mode as I started out on the loose sandy run, but I learned from training to not listen to your leg muscles much when you're in that first 1/2 mile after a bike ride. Nothing you do feels right and my neighbor Scott described the feeling as having "baby giraffe legs" and I agree. The first mile felt really slow and my split time confirmed a 9 minute mile pace. I was looking forward to the solid pavement and a cool drink of water at the mile marker. I watched the volunteer with 2 cups of water extend them to the runners ahead of me. The first one grabbed a cup and chugged it down and the guy directly in front of me was waving him off, but at the last minute decided he did want it, reached for it and while failing to actually get his hands on the cup, knocked it out of the volunteer's hands. I watched as my cup of water was now making steam on the pavement as I pounded on by avoiding the numerous empty paper cups littering the trail. I was still thirsty and fresh, clean water was not my friend today. I picked up my pace and ran just over an 8 minute mile for the second mile and was trying to find the energy and focus for my fast-paced last mile. In training, I'd focus on an object in the distance, concentrate on my breathing and form and start to fly, but I never quite got it all working as well as I hoped. It was at this time that I thought Mike would catch me. Every time I heard footsteps approaching, I assumed Mike would call out my name and we'd race it in. Well, Mike was not far behind and while he didn't catch me on the run, he did beat my time by about 1:40. Mike is much faster than I am and I was looking forward to chasing him to the finish line for a faster finish. As it was, my 3rd mile was just under 8 minute pace and I had a little left for the sprint for the finish.
The Finish - Race start + 1 hour, 13 minutes and 56 seconds
I did it! I finished my second triathlon and felt pretty good about how I'd done. The real fun began as the rest of the PwC Tri-Guys started to finish and we all started taking pictures and swapping stories. We heard about John's chain problems on his bike just outside of the transition area and hear about Ricardo's swim. His wife was getting concerned that he might need to be rescued since he'd been out there for so long, but he eventually made it in and after a leisurely transition, ran the rest of his race strong. Mike was our fastest and made up great ground on the bike and during the run and finished with an amazing 1:12:16 time. Not bad for a first-timer. After we all re-hydrated and pigged out on the snacks at the after-race buffet, we headed our separate ways, wheeled our mighty bikes back to our cars with our racing packs in tow and vowed to do it again and again!
We're hooked!
On the drive home...
We had just left Fort Desoto park and a car pulled up next to us and franticly motioned us to roll down our window. We did and they guy and girl asked if there was actually an In-N-Out Burger in Florida! They had seen our license plate frame and were from San Diego and were hoping that there was one of these great burger joints in FL. The girl actually exclaimed that she was a vegetarian ( a Vegan in her words ) and she'd happily chow down on some In-N-Out if she was given the chance. We all laughed and wished there was, but there isn't...yet! Take a look at www.In-N-Out.com to see what I'm talking about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)