Race Report: Eagleman - Part 2

We swam and swam and swam and swam…

It honestly felt a very comfortable, well-paced swim. We were told there were slack-tides and calm conditions, which it seemed like there were. I sighted well, and swam straight for the orange buoys at the corner of the course, rather than following the herd of people who followed the yellow buoys that lined in between the orange markers. I passed people from 4 age groups ahead of me (we started with an 8-minute gap between groups, so these people had started their swims more than 32 minutes ahead of me).

Imagine my surprise as I came up the beach, looked down at my watch, and saw that I had been swimming for 43:xx minutes. My goal time was 32-34 minutes. I was shocked that it was so far off, and immediately panicked…my hopes at 5:15 were already in serious doubt, and I still had a long day ahead. After the race, I found out that many people, including the pros, swam 10-15 minutes slower than their personal-best times. Apparently the “slack-tide” was a complete lie…we swam against a +2mph current on two of the three legs of the swim. Not good, but at least everyone was in the same boat.

Swim Time: 43:33
Overall Place: 574/1509

It was nice not having to shed a wetsuit in T1, but it probably only saved me 20 seconds at best. I threw on my helmet/glasses/shoes and hustled out onto the bike course. I noticed it was harder to breathe than normal; in retrospect that was the heat already having an effect on me.

The first 30 minutes of the bike, I rode harder than I should have. A combination of a frustrating swim, and trying to make up lost time, I hammered away at the pedals. To compound matters, I wasn’t taking in as much nutrition as I should have been. For the first half of the bike, I was flying, and putting together a nice 21mph average. That all changed around mile 30, when the headwinds kicked up on the northward leg back to the transition area. Strong, steady gusts made every mile a fight, and the stress on my system was taking its toll. I was eating and drinking regularly now, but I still felt drained, and the thought that I still had 10 miles to ride and then a 13.1 mile run became overwhelming. I forced myself to break down the remainder of the bike into small chunks, and took some heart in noticing that all the other cyclists around me were also struggling. This was the only part of the course where it became difficult to ride draft-legal, and I was constantly sitting up so as not to enter draft zones. The last thing I needed was a penalty. I entered T2 a tired man, and the effects of the heat were quite strong, but at that point, I just wanted to get off my bike…everything hurt.

Bike Time: 2:50 @ 19.7mph
Overall Place: 839/1509

In retrospect, being on my bike wasn’t as bad as I thought. I was seated, I had a breeze, and my heart rate wasn’t spiked like a volleyball. None of these things were true after 90 seconds into my run. I ran my first mile in 9 minutes and it felt like my body was going to melt…I have never run in heat like that before. It didn’t help that with the late start, I was beginning my half-marathon at 12:30pm. I ran the first three miles, walking each water station and taking as much water/ice/coke as I could carry. The volunteers were fantastic, and were one of the few motivating factors keeping me going. After mile 3, my mind was beginning to win the war over my body, and I decided to run 4 minutes and walk 1 minute. This lasted for another 2 miles. When I hit the aid station at mile 5, I walked to get water…but I just couldn’t start running again. Maybe it was a fatigue. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was a combination of these, and the realization that any hope I had to setting a personal-best for the 70.3 distance was long gone. But I just continued to walk. It was a complete death-march…105 degrees, no shade, no wind, and 8 miles to go. On the walk back, I was fortunate to run across a few souls who were suffering the same as me, and we did the Iron-shuffle, motivating each other as best we could. We’d talk about the conditions, where we were from, why we were doing this…anything to keep the time moving. By mile 12, I knew if I was going to have any self-respect left, I would have to run the final mile. It was a long, brutal experience, but I was going to finish…that was never a question. I came around the final turn, down the chute, and crossed the line, sinking into a chair under the tent…the first shade I had seen all day. My mom and dad were there waiting for me; I managed a weak smile, and then asked them to give me a minute before we talked. It was time to recover.

Run time: 2:56

Overall Race Time: 6:35

It took me a couple of weeks to finish this race report, because I found that as each day went on after the race, I felt better and better about the situation. Primarily, I learned that these races aren’t something that one should set a “goal time” for; rather the goals should be “1-finish, 2-pace well so that you can run on the 3rd leg, 3-be happy with what your body gives you on race day, for better or worse.” On a long-enough time line, everyone has a race like this. Some days just aren’t your day, no matter how much you prepare; it’s as simple as that. I have known for a long time that I don’t race well in extreme heat, so I don’t know why I suddenly thought things would be different on a course known for blazing temperatures and howling winds. What I am most proud of, is that I didn’t give up, I didn’t DNF…that would have been very easy, and it was a strong temptation for much of the run. Over 600 people of the 2200 who started the race did not finish. Ultimately, triathlon training and racing should be fun, and I had forgotten this...after all, it’s the reason I first started racing in the first place.