A cold morning at White Lake Half?!?! This was nuts, and I clung to my Fitness coffee I’ve become addicted to, trying to evolve from, “Why do I do this?!?” to, “Let’s get this fun over with!” Dave Lovelace and Sarah Anderson – two Tricredible teammates - were up as well, trying to fuel up and psych themselves up for their first half ironman. Dave needed a song in his head to replace the one he had, so I belted out the one from the new McDonald’s commercial, “I am in love with a McDonald’s girl! She is an angel in a golden arches uniform!” I don’t think that’s what he had in mind but it was all I had to offer at the time.
Once I had everything ready, I mounted my bike and rode to the race in the darkness. The town of White Lake was surprisingly quiet at 6 am on race morning. With 500 competitors in this year’s triathlon, I didn’t see many others riding to the race. Those I did come up on I greeted with a ,”Top of the mornin’ to ya!”
I racked my bike in transition, dropped my pack, made a bee line for the Korean Space Shuttles to evacuate some stragglers, and then got my timing chip and race numbers. I saw Coach Lance Leo, who helped through my first 2 Ironmans and chatted for a couple seconds, but I didn’t see anyone else I knew. Back to transition to get everything set up just right, and then it was time to get the wetsuit on and head to the water.
The weather was shaping up to be perfect. It was in the 50’s and not expected to hit 70 before noon. Fog covered the lake to where you couldn’t even see the first 100 m buoy. They announced a fog delay, so I hung out in my seal costume with Jay Carmine, another competitior and now coach, to pass the time. He looked super fit, and I hoped I could catch him on the bike after his inevitably superfast swim would put me in the rears. Some sort of announcement indicated we would start shortly, so I hopped in the water to warm up. In the water, I met up with Kit Phillips, another great competitor and overall great guy. I’m always glad that Angie and his wife tend to hook up while we race – they seem to get each other.
Kit Phillips, Wade Laufenberg, me, and Dave Lovelace.
Anyway, as we chatted away trying to keep warm in the water they announced they would make a call on the race at 8 am, in about 30 minutes. Good deal, I thought, cuz I had to take a crap something fierce. I speedwalked to the head, found a stall and struggled to get my wetsuit off. I noticed my zipper lanyard was dangling in the toilet. Nasty. I snatched it out and filled the toilet with some other stuff instead. Oh sorry. That’s nasty too, isn’t it? Well, it’s MY race report and I like to talk about farts and shit, so deal with it.
The 3 Tricredibles participating in the Half: Sarah, me, and Dave.
We all hung around for awhile and then, at around 7:45 and earlier than they stated, they called the swim off. Flustered, I ran to transition to shed the wetsuit and get my helmet on. They were going to start us at the end of the dock, as if we had just completed the swim. We would run in groups of 10, every 10 seconds, to T1 and start the bike leg. I went back and forth in my mind about wearing my running shoes and socks or starting barefoot. I saw Tom Clifford, the race favorite, getting frustrated over the same decision and at the last minute we both sprinted to get the shoes.
As I stood in the corral with the other Open and Open Master dudes and chicks right before 8, the fog miraculously dissipated. Everyone started chanting, “Let us swim!” and they vascillated over what to do. In the end, they stuck with the duathlon format as they had already let the lifeguards go. In retrospect, they made the whole decision way too early and should have stuck with the plan. I hate we missed that swim, but I know the really fast swimmers like Jay Carmine and Marty Gaal were more bummed. Marty couldn’t have worn it on his face any more clearly. It was like cutting Sampson’s hair and then telling him to go pound on someone.
The first group of 10 took off down the chute, clearly containing those most eager to contend the race including Tom Clifford and James Haycraft (a frequenter of the tri forum, www.slowtwitch.com, he had HTFU blazed across his butt. If you don’t know what that stands for……think about it……). A coupla seconds went by, I shook hands with Kit and Marty and wished them a good race, and our group was off. I was the third in this group to cross the mat, and sprinted past the two in front of me as if I was possessed. I yanked my P3 off the rack and took off at the back end of the first group of 10.
I was hammering on the bike, and repeatedly did an internal check to see if maybe this was a little too fast, but I was passing guys from the first pack. Nobody was passing me and I could have cared less to look back and see if anyone was coming. On White Lake Drive, I could see a lead group of 4 or 5 with a motorcycle course marshall monitoring them for any drafting. I wanted that lead pack. Just out of the town of White Lake, I came upon them, assessed my options and quickly decided they weren’t moving fast enough, I could move faster, they might crush me for doing it, but I was going to the front. I got up there feeling great, but still wondering if this was too fast. We’d have a tail wind for 30 miles, so I didn’t want that to give me a false sense of strength when the wind might have been doing a good part of the work for me.
Kit Phillips came up and shared the work at the front, as did a skinny dude in an orange uniform and Mr. HTFU. This was exactly what Chris McCormack described his experience at Kona last year – a lead pack working together without drafting. I had never experienced this before but it was clearly a smart move. I found the going tough sometimes, but for the most part very manageable. And sometimes I found I could get a soft pedal stroke in or stand for a stretch, all the while concentrating more on maintaining a safe and legal gap between me and the guy in front which took my mind off of the fatigue that was building up inside myself. But really what was happening was…….I was having FUN! WE WERE FLYING!
I’d guess we had a group of about 8 at the turn at mile 30 where you hit the headwind. I was prepared for this turning point in the race, which can be a big psychological blow as the wind hits you and you realize you’re more tired than you thought. The road also turns rough here which adds to the frustration. I had gulped some Powerbar cola chews and a Gu Roctane just prior, hoping the caffeine in both would give me a jolt. Right away though, I noticed I had let a gap open in front of me to MR. HTFU and the orange skinny guy that looked like a good runner. I wasn’t sure I could close the gap up and struggled with what to do with the situation just when Tom Clifford came by me. “Great,” I thought and figured he’d try and close the gap and I could key off of him. As we did, I popped a Hammer Nutrition Energy Surge tablet. Placebo or not, it’s supposed to release ATP into the system. I felt better though and we were hooked back up to the pointy end of the race. Tom Clifford took the reigns as we neared the only out-and-back section of the course, which is crucial as it affords you the only chance to see where you stack up against the competition. We hit the turn around in a pack of about 6 or so, with a small gap on the next group. Something very little and white looking flashed behind me – too small to be a competitor and not wearing anything familiar prior to this point either so I blew it off. Kit, a teammate of his that was also a Master, Tom, Orange Guy, Mr. HTFU, and me in group 1. I think that was all.
Over a minute back was Jay Carmine, and Marty was quite a bit after that. He looked like he was still pissed about the canceled swim.
I could see age groupers in droves behind them and figured the officials didn’t wait the 5 minutes per wave that they would have done if we had started with a swim. They probably just let everybody go every 10 seconds.
Back on the rough and (actually pretty mildly) windy highway 53 back to White Lake, that little white thing came up by me. Here was this little cricket of a man, draped over an old steel Italian road bike decked out with aerobars and some high end deep dish Hed wheels……he was pounding it out on his bike, bobbing and weaving, not at all very smooth looking……but from who knows how far back he had caught the lead group and was making his way to the front! And his calf said “OM,” so now we had a 3 way race in the Master category.
A gap opened again at some point, and Kit blazed by me to close it up. I was watching Tom Clifford and figured he knew what he was doing. When the gap opened up too much I figured maybe he was struggling, and I don’t know where the energy came from but I pulled myself across the gap on my own. I said something to Kit about how strong he was looking as I settled into the group. Coming by the motorcycle marshall, I thanked him for sticking with us to make sure everybody raced a fair race and he was very “official” as he said, “You’re welcome, sir.” Now I was in a lead pack of about 5 – lead by Mr. HTFU, then Cricket, then me, then Master IOS teammate of Kit’s, then Kit.
With about 6 miles left to bike, Kit took over. He really took the bull by the horns. I went with him wondering if anybody else was hanging on. It was getting tough to hold his pace and I was ready to get off the bike. He stretched the elastic between us in the last 2 miles and Mr. HTFU and Cricket jumped across me. I settled for this position and we came into T2. I had just biked the 56 miles in an insane 2:15:59!
3 Cervelo P3’s in T2. (Me in the background)
Heading out of T2 to start the run.
I was quick through T2, and took off running behind Kit in second place. Angie was there to take a picture and I was happy to see her as briefly as it was. She asked how I felt and I said firmly, “Good.” The legs felt great and I could not believe where I was in this race at this point! I really needed to pee but I didn’t give myself that option. I knew there were faster runners behind me and I couldn’t hold this position, but the whole top 10 goal was very, very real already. Kit was pulling away from me slightly, which I expected. My legs were turning over just fine so I let ‘em roll as they were. Kit’s OM teammate passed me and I noticed two things about him – he was laboring like crazy the way he was breathing, and he didn’t look to be as good shape as he was racing. But he blew by me and I had nothing for him. I was well under a 7 minute pace and he was trucking. Mr. HTFU came by me next running super smooth. Orange Good Runner Guy came by at some point, and I didn’t know til later that this was Ashley Ackerman, who is indeed a good runner. Then came Tom Clifford, who had a slow turnover and a strange rhythm to his breathing pattern, but he was dusting me too.
Now in 7th place overall and feeling great, I watched the podium places set up in front of me. Tom had clearly bided his time knowing full well he would run however he wanted and still finish first. But then, as we came by the water park, he stopped and started massaging his legs. I meant to say something encouraging, but I think what came out was, “Come on, Tom, you’re good!” He hollered back, “I can’t! I’m locked up!” Well I hated it for him, but I was now in 6th! Out on the highway, the same thing happened to Mr. HTFU. I told him to hang in there and that his seat was too high (a stupid inside joke on www.slowtwitch.com). Now, I was back in 5th, but that didn’t last long as both he and Tom worked out there leg cramps and blew by me again. So, back to 7th. A Greenville runner I’m familiar with, Mike Riddle, was jogging the other way and told me I was in 5th. I thanked him for the errant information and pressed on. He was cheering on his son-in-law in his first half ironman.
I couldn’t believe the mile markers. If they were right, I had just run the first 3 miles in 19 minutes. Can I do that?! Running through White Lake, I could still see all the way to 1st place and I noticed Kit up there wasn’t running away from me. I hoped I could reel him in, cuz I was feeling good. Man, I needed to pee! I took a quick second at mile 5.5 or so to notice I was in the spot where last time I puked all over the place and quit. Not today!
If you recall from my last update, I had intended on running miles 1, 6, 7, and 13 hard. I ended up kicking that strategy to the curb since I really was running pretty good anyway just steady, but I think the thought of surging was tiring in itself as well. At mile 6 I popped my last salt tablet and Hammer Anti-Fatigue cap and started looking for Angie and friends at the turnaround. I think I saw Bert taking pictures but nobody else. I was now in 5th place again as Ashley Ackerman had dropped out for some reason. About 1 minute back…..I dunno…..it’s hard to do the math when your blood has drained from your brain to support the leg muscles…..I saw the Cricket and another tall orange guy. They didn’t look like they were gaining on me but I couldn’t tell. At the next feed station I took my last swig of EFS gel, popped my last ATP tablet and jettisoned everything but the Olbas menthol inhaler, which I took a hit off of shortly after. Coming back to the spot I’d marked with puke a couple years ago, my stomach was starting to feel stressed from the pee. I stopped and relieved myself on the sidewalk. This took about 45 seconds. Still nobody in sight behind me. I started running again and felt fine for a little bit, but then a little fatigue kicked in and I could tell I had slowed. I think the heat was actually starting to become noticeable. I saw behind me what I thought was the tall orange guy catching up, and I prepared to be passed again. I was…….but not by him. The little Cricket dude flew by me! Damn, that’s twice now this little guy has come by me out of nowhere! How does he do that!? Alright, back to 6th place, and orange guy is probably gonna put me in 7th. But I was still running well. I was not going backwards.
Still I was well under a 7 minute pace, which was my goal.
I saw Dave Lovelace at this point coming the other way and he was looking strong.
After mile 9, I started to use markers ahead of me to will myself through the rest of the course. “Run to that next curve and keep the same pace,” I’d tell myself. I noticed I was getting lots of encouragement from age groupers coming the other way. They would tell me what place they thought I was in (anywhere from 4th to 6th is the feedback I got) or tell me I looked smooth or “doing great!” I didn’t have the energy to return the favor, but distinctly felt like this was all backwards and that I should have been encouraging them. They looked like they were hurting more and there was plenty of carnage out there to lend a kind word too – people walking, cramping, grimacing. I was having a great race but could not bring myself to spend the energy to share it. I felt shitty and on a runner's high at the same time. Then I saw Anne, Lance’s wife, and she looked like she was struggling a bit but running strong. I cheered her on as she went by. Later I saw Sarah come by and I gave her some sort of encouragement as well.
Now, there was nothing to do but run in for the last 2 miles. Orange tall guy still hadn’t passed me and I couldn’t hear any footprints, but I was too zoned and too scared to look back. I think I picked it up for the last mile, realizing I had a shot at breaking my personal record for the half marathon.
I crossed the finish line feeling strong – not at all exhausted – and gave Angie a big sweaty kiss. She had an ice cold water all ready for me. I PR’d my open half marathon by a minute, finishing the run in 1:28.21. Total time was 3:46.05, 6th place overall and 3rd Open Master. The race had gone perfectly. Except for that swim bit….
This has got to be the sorriest race prize ever. But I guess that's not what it's really about, and I look pretty proud anyway!
I don’t know how differently it would have gone with the swim, but I’m sure it still would have been something I would have been proud of. As for the Cricket guy, I know his race would have been way different. He later told me that he was a Master's road cyclist and marathoner but a horrible swimmer, and would have given up 20 minutes to us had we swam. In the end, on the drive home, I concluded that it was a bummer about the swim but the goal of this race was to gain confidence going into the latter part of my training for Ironman Coeur d’Alene – now just 7 weeks away. I certainly did that, and feel I’m right on track to give it my all at that race. Hopefully, I’ll get to swim there!
A big thank you to Lizz and Karen for the wonderful chalk signs all over the course encouraging us Tricredibles. I noticed them all and really appreciate the hard work and the way you guys bring fun to this kind of stuff. Karen, I wanna see your pictures you took with that great big Kip camera as soon as you make them available! And of course a big thank you to Angie for her unending support and sacrifice she puts forth so that I can run and play all over the place. You’re the greatest. Finally, I thank God for just giving me the ability to get outside and do this stuff, to have the fitness to enjoy it, and hopefully there’s something in all of this that isn’t pure selfishness but something that reflects the strength through Him that makes this kind of thing possible.
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