Here's to never again losing yourself in hopes of winning a race... Ironman Mont Tremblant 2014

All those things that weren't supposed to happen? They happened. What happens next is up to you...

SPOILER ALERT: Though there are some silver linings and lessons learned. There is not a happy ending or dramatic comeback here. I'll do my best to seduce you with details and anecdotes and keep you on the edge of your bike seat but when it's not your day; it's just not your day.

It was the hardest 10hours and 11minutes I've ever fought. But I learned a lot and I really had to calibrate myself and how I took this race on. I wanted a sub-10, I wanted more than a sub-10, I wanted a slot in Kona, and I wanted to have a good race. I got none of that and I am realizing now that it was a good thing. If that race came one second slower with any less of a struggle I wouldn't have learned everything I learned on that Sunday and I wouldn't be as grateful as I am. I know I have the potential to go about a half an hour faster. But if I had done that I would have thought that you have to take these things as seriously as I did if I wanted to be "fast". You don't. You just have to be yourself and your best self and nothing else. That is how anyone can/will race to their own potential; when you do it for yourself.

Fast forward to the race... I don't think I smiled once. I was in pain all day. Mental pain, physical pain, and pain from the actual fatigue of the race. Everything hurt. Starting with my pulled lower back... I woke up Thursday night before the race and got out of bed to pee. I couldn't even stand up straight. My lower back had tightened up for some unknown reason. I literally was gripping my back like the old guy in Family Guy, except less rape-y.

So I arrived in Mont Tremblant, Quebec on Thursday night and checked into our gorgeous condo. It was the North American Championship Ironman 140.6. After unloading everything I rolled out for a bit and went straight to bed. I changed things up a bit for the first time since I started these crazy races. This was the first time I was racing with a pretty big expectation. I wanted to hit a Kona spot this year incredibly. Training was all there and a pretty incredible amount of miles and hours were logged. I had change up the diet and gone dry for most of the season and I was strictly dry for the two months leading up to the race. This seemed like a good idea for some reason... looking back on it now it was definitely a lapse in better judgement on my part.

It didn't go away. I started the swim and couldn't rotate nearly as much as I wanted to. Halfway through the swim I think I drank half of Lac Tremblant. I didn't want to keep going but I kept trying to drafted heels and fought the urge to duck out early. I knew if the negative thoughts were creeping in this early it was going to be a long day. If it were a two loop swim, I surely would not have started the second loop. Luckily, once you get halfway out the feeling of returning is semi-uplifting. I remember seeing the #8 buoy and literally praying to God that the buoy numbers were counting up (to #12) instead of down...

T As I started to get out of the water and peel the wet-suit off I remember being still hunched over and thinking "How the fuck am I going to run a marathon like this??" 1hr and 4mins had passed since I had struggled to hop over the spectator fence to get in my start wave on time. I was shuffling in extremely late because the food in my stomach from the 3:30am breakfast was, in fact, still in my stomach. I felt like shit, even though I couldn't force any out of me. This resulted in no warm up and instead of body-glide slapped on chamois cream to the back of my neck to prevent the chafe. ughhhh....

Anyways, I hobbled thru T1 and though my swim was about a 5min improvement on last year, I wanted to hit a 1:02-ish. Oh well, I know boo-hoo sad story... The back didn't bother me muscle-wise on the bike. And the water I had swallowed by the mouthful in lieu of the expected oxygen for most of the swim helped to ease the full stomach issues. I hopped on the bike and immediately realized I had forgotten to calibrate my power meter. Fucking ditz move... but I grinded it out trying to stay at 72%... It was a struggle. It was cold but that didn't matter. Everyone was cold. I was hurting.

I have my watch set to auto-lap at 11.2miles (it makes for an even ten laps throughout an Ironman and if I was on my pace would alert me about every half an hour or so). I was struggling through the 3rd lap when the big race changer hit me. My chain dropped as I shifted to the small chain ring. "Not a huge deal," I thought as I desperately tried to shift it back over without getting off... No luck. I peeled off to the side to mess with it... DAMNIT!!! People whizzed by and I was left wondering why my pedals wouldn't turn. Eventually I found the problem as I was lucky and the race mechanic was close by... He pointed out that something was stuck in my derailleur. Low and behold it was the power meter magnet... Welp, that sucks... this race just got a lot more interesting. I went by feel for the rest of the race and didn't push it. A few miles later I saw a friend of a friend draped in an MIT tri kit pass by and he thew out a "nice job" and I was immediately pissed he passed me. I thought I'd see him on the run. I didn't want to push it up the first round of hills especially power-meter-less. It was a hard fought 112miles. The 5hours and 25mins passed with more of the onslaught of negative thoughts racing through my head. I stayed in areo position for just about all of it. Mostly because I was scared to test the back muscles out. I was locked in and still fighting. The only positive energy of the bike came when I popped a double dose of caffeine pills. It hit me and rolled with me through the end of the bike.

I had no idea what I was in store for when I tried to unclip and get off my bike. I could barely sit up. I tried to swing my leg around and almost collapsed in the process. Luckily, a quick acting volunteer grabbed me and another grabbed my bike. My back felt like I was doing the worm vertically... I must have been a sorry sight. I don't remember much of waddling my way into the tent to grab my bag but I do remember sitting in T2 Literally thinking that there was no way I was going to be able to finish. I wanted to. I wanted to really badly. But I honestly didn't know if my body would let me. I was on the verge of tears and honestly probably would have cried if my body could have spared the hydration.

"the first aid station is a few miles out." I said. "Just get there." I managed to get my shoes on and get out. I was still in striking distance of a sub-10hour Ironman and given my awkward half waddle half jaunt I rolled out at a 7:45min/mile pace... I guess we could see where this went. It was uplifting to be on my own feet and off the bike. Again, the begining of the run is always the part where I seem to realize I ate too much on the bike. I've had these issues all season and couldn't seem to correct it. Maybe it was still the ball of breakfast in the belly. It was water only at the aid stations for a while. 

Mile 6-7ish came by when that feeling seeped into my mouth. Everyone knows "that feeling". "That feeling" when your mouth just starts to fill up with water and you know what comes next is doubling over and taking a second look at what you just ate... Well my back didn't really allow me to double over so I peeled off to the side and did my best at throwing up while still standing semi-upright. Wasn't pretty.

13.1miles somehow passes and I hadn't been looking at my watch for a while now. It was another uplifting experience go through the village again. This was followed by the awful experience of having to turn right for your second loop and the finish line is just a left turn away... Woof. Through sheer habit I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I guess it's true that an object in motion tends to stay in motion. I think that deep down I just knew that it was going to hurt like all hell when I stopped so whether I stopped now or later it didn't matter... (this is me practicing making logical decisions over emotional ones...)

The struggle was real. The big moment came right around mile 19-20ish. I saw MIT pants again... He was struggling too. I scooped him up as I passed him and we stuck with each other. It was good to be running with someone I knew but deep down I was hoping he would just let me go. I stayed at my pace and he latched on hard. I didn't know how much fight he had left in him but if I compared it to a gas tank not only was I empty but there was no secret reserve tank hidden anywhere. I was happy I scooped him up though he was going a lot slower pace than me at the time and if I can be someone elses motivation to pick themselves back up and rally then I am always happy about that... but then again - he was also in my AG so yeeahh- my heart was torn. I kept the pace just outside of my comfort zone. I was hurting - but I was also hurting at mile 1, I was also hurting on the bike, and comparably hurting more on the swim... shiiiiittt, I have been hurting since Thursday night and now it's Sunday afternoon...

There are two hills as you hit mile 25. MIT was still gazing at my calf. I peeled back just a smidge and let him hit the first hill. He took off and a this point had about 50 feet on me. "It's OK," I said. "Give him the first one. Smash the second one." Well that is what I tried to do. And anyone who knows how I was knows that I always have a killer sprint at the end... I thought I had this. I was back on his shoulder now. I dug in. Leaned a little more forward and dipped my hand to push this last kilometer for the sprint. My Back had other plans and quickly kept me in check with a shooting pain that I thought was going to knock me over. It felt like a punch from superman right in the center of my spine. MIT was gone. He dug me out hard and left me 50seconds tenth to his ninth place in the AG... I hate getting out dug. But we hugged it out at the finish line. Man hug style. He is a great dude and nailed an awesome race.

I went all in for this race and began to obsess over it. Toward the begging of the season I was fine - it wasn't a big deal... I did my thing and got all my training in. I felt extremely confident and had no issue telling people I was shooting for the stars and wanted to be booking a flight to a Big Island in October. I knew I had to have a few key things line up and you never know who else is going to show up (I actually knew one of the guys in my AG was racing. It was the winner of the American Zofigen race I first wrote a race report on. So I knew it was not going to be a slow field whatsoever.) But as the race got closer and the stress started to build I had a pretty bad feeling come over me. All the training added in with all the things I missed out on that I usually love doing began to pile up a big mound of stress.

I totally was not myself leading up to the race. I was really high strung and my attitude began to shift. Even my thoughts and words shifted from "I can't wait to dominate this race." to "I think I can hit a solid time." to "I can't wait for this race to pass and to get back to doing the other things I like to do." It was a weird feeling being locking in and so focused for so long but then as the goal crept closer I began to lose interest for reasons unbeknownst to me. I was sad about it. I still really wanted it. Bad. But I had felt that I lost myself a bit.

The drinks after the longs rides with friends, the post training run brunches, the occasional rock-climb or CrossFit competition, the hungover rides/swims/runs and the laughs about how we felt like shit but still got it done. This was all a part of who I am and how I train. Having given up most/all of that stuff was what I thought I had to do to get to the next level of racing. I wanted to be faster at all costs. This taught me the hard way that the secret to getting faster or better that you have to stay true to yourself while also training a bit harder. You can't ever forget that at the end of the day you are supposed to be having fun. All the time. Period.

I will never lose myself in such a race EVER AGAIN. I am inherently faster when I race for myself and nothing else. I am the guy heel clicking at mile 21, giving high fives, corny jokes, and handstand finishes. I am not the guy who expects things at races and I am not the guys who stresses out about anything. I will have my revenge on that course at 70.3 World Championships and you better believe I will be smiling for every 70.3 of it! Cheers to a beer the night before! (and I will definitely have a race report more traditional in my ways afterwards!)

Racing a Prince, Spooning the Competition, a KP gasket, and a Seat at the Table!

Time to get down to business with the triathlon season and we are kicking it off with IM 70.3 Syracuse. The idea was birthed by fellow BTT teammate and fully matured to a group of seven triathletes and two spectators spending a weekend in a gorgeous house in the small town of Tully, NY.

I will surely set the scene properly; but first, lemme take a selfie...

#nofilter

...OK now lets travel to Friday afternoon 4:15 PM.

We manager to fit three bikes, six wheels, about a quarter of a metric ton of man, and three low swinging egos (all in the same age group) into a Toyota Highlander and we are on the road for the next 6 hours. I will spare you the terrible jokes, foul language, and description of the inappropriate harassment bestowed upon other motor vehicle operators and one unsuspecting toll both ticket dealer (God bless her soul) via the bull horn mounted on the roof of the Highlander. Let's just say that things get weird with three bros in traffic on the Pike for so long. Sorry... I'm not sorry.


This picture was the only good thing that came from the car ride...

We rolled into the Casa de Triathele a bit later than expected but everyone showed up around the same time. The real party started when the eldest but seemingly most lively racer of the bunch (also father of another 70.3'er) rolled and showered the rest of the bunch with warm hand shakes, kisses, and told us how great of people we were. This man is truly the personification of encouragement and compliments!

We talked a bit, got settled, and went to bed... Corey was prepared with an air mattress. So when I say "got settled" I mean that the sleeping arrangements forced Nik and I to "get settled" in the downstairs queen bed together. This definitely is not where this race report gets all Brokeback Triathlon so chill out ladies (and gents) the man is engaged after all...

Here is where I will get back to settling the scene of the gorgeous place we stayed in upstate New York...

Good morning, Tully!

I wandered around the house a bit and stuffed my face with a quadruple stack of my specialty pre-race breakfast. (doesn't sound good but tasted like heaven) I do not go crazy with food the morning before a race but my main thought was how good non-decaf coffee will taste tomorrow. (Two weeks before the race I cut caffeine to experiment with a "desensitize yourself" theory that says your body will react even better to the caffeine if you haven't had it in a while... the plan was to pop a few caffeine gels during the bike and a 100mg caffeine tab in T2 for a nice little turbo boost... I tried it for the first time at IM Lake placid last year and it didn't hurt so I thought I'd try it again...)

Another pre-race nutritional experiment that was new to me was the "beet juice" theory going around the endurance world... The only thing it gave me so far was the scare of a lifetime when I went to pee for the first time since downing a bunch of the stuff!

Four of use piled in and we were off to check in and shake out the last of the pre-race checklist... but first... #anotherselfie… 


Check in was the typical. I scooped up #1333 and got our stuff together for a swim then hopped on the bike. Everything felt great. (I ripped my wetsuit about 2inches along the left sleeve seem heading into the water but the thing has so many holes it didn't matter. As the arm flooded I was pissed but I'd worry about it later.) Helmet on, wheels pumped (thanks to a great friend I was racing on some sweet 808s for the first time ever) Derailure didn't need any adjustments and cruised aruond for about 15 minutes checking out the bike in/out and scoping the course a bit. The drive home detoured us to a bike shop where we got some gunk to repair my wet suit.


The whole scene took way too long. I kind of wanted to be in and out but by the time we got back it was 3 PM. More food. More beet juice (subsequently a new found humor in the childhood funny "Spell i-cup and then say funny colors") I laid out all my gear just to see it all in front of me and got to gooping up my wetsuit. I was kind of PO'd at this point as the sleeve wasn't going back together that well. The plan was to sit on my butt and do nothing all day and so far I haven't been off my feet since I woke up. That's when the 2nd car pulled in as I was in the garage and the three occupants looked at me like a cow looks at an oncoming train. 

"Dude the our car is broke!"

"That sucks." I kneejerking-ly said out loud to mask the selfish thought that initially popped into my head, Don't get involved. It's not your problem. If you start it you'll have to finish it. I think anyone would be lying if they said the initially did not have a thought like this but deep down I knew it probably wasn't a big deal (nothing REALLY is a huge deal but that's another story)... The main point I want to make is that if you narrow the problem down and take it from a different perspective you'll probably be a lot better off... 

"Our car is broken." is a very daunting statement because it's is so broad. So Step one: Let's narrow it down. What's wrong? "The power steering is shot - it's not holding power steering fluid"... "OK - It must be leaking" - but that statement is almost just as daunting. The trick is to narrow it down more and keep taking baby steps... "Where is it leaking from?" The answer came after driving the car up onto some blocks (AKA pieces of fire wood) and a half an hour of investigation work watching drip after painstakingly slow drip... One of the pipes had corroded through and was leaking like a sieve. 

As one of the chief engineers I used to sail with says, "We don't have a solution yet, but at least we have a problem." He is a great guy and we still stay in touch. It was the same chief engineer that comes down to the engine room while we are maneuvering a giant floating parking garage though the Suez Canal and says, "Third, you got this?" Ahh, Sure chief, Got what? "Great, because I'm tired.." Then would proceed to snore though the bridge bells as the new third engineers sphincter puckered up... (a few harmless sailing pics...) (a few good things about this repair was that you didn't have to post a pirate watch, it wasn't in the middle of the Atlantic, and it would seemingly be fixed with some liquid steel and a piece of rubber.)

  Anyways, to make a long story short. Thanks to another great teammate we got the stuff and we got the King's Point gasket in place. We let the stuff cure over dinner and then took the car for a test spin. It was a success! Definitely not in the race plan but felt great to get my hands dirty again!

The evening was filled with more tomfoolery (see below) and then we were in bed for an early wake up...

RACE MORNING

Trying not to bore you with lame pre-race details 4AM came loud and proud and whole house was buzzing, packing faces with food, and talking about laying down a solid race. I'll throw one last selfie out there and say that I was feeling pretty good.

I dropped my stuff off in the transition area, dropped off the morning bag, and then snuck into the woods with some baby wipes to drop something else off... I got off my feet until it was about half an hour before go time - (we got kicked out of transition area at 6:50 and my wave didn't go off until 7:50) I suddenly notice how "in place" everything was.

The only thing wrong with this race venue was the choice of back-up generators...

Flash forward to tip toeing in the water when a big camera crew came in focused in on a group of 3 people right next to me. Hmmmmm they looked interesting... 

HEY! How's it going? I'm Billy. Good luck man! Where you guys from? I come in pretty hot with a solid handshake when I am meeting people but they received it well and returned the firm shake. "Bahrain." he said with a smirk as the cameras kept rolling and snapping. Cool bro! That's a long way! You ready for this swim? ... "Let's do it!" he said and then the announcer had us all head in to the start line in the water.

We sat there treading water for the next few minutes and I didn't think much of my new friend from Bahrain until I saw him at the finish line. Come to find out it was the Bahrain Triathlon Team (also BTT) and the two of the brothers I shook hands with were princes... yes that's right... when they prefix their name with "His Majesty" they are 100% serious and don't just like the sounds of it... COOL!!! but let's get back to the race...

The SWIM - 30:49 - 1.2mile PR - thanks to a great coach this was the first time I entered the water feeling confident with the front of the pack. I definitely was not going to keep up with the lead swimmers but I did feel great getting in the water. Nothing crazy to report about the swim. I was rotating my hips and pulling a lot better. I also was sighting a lot better which really helps!! After the 5-7minutes of kicking each other we settled in and before I knew it I was back on the beach. I didn't see the time but I was gunning for a half an hour and felt pretty good that I hit it.

T1- took way too long but that's just my MO... 3:35...

The real problem came next... The BIKE... 2:24:23 I got on the bike having double checked all functionality but a few seconds in I found myself staring at four dashes on the Garmin screen that were supposed to be telling power out put. I fiddled with it for the first 1.5miles because it was all downhill but once it came time to hit the 10mile climb I said SCREW IT  and decided to just got for it.

The next two hours were filled with gorgeous scenery, perfect weather, great roads, screaming ON YOUR LEFT,  and one huge question... WHERE IS COREY? I thought I saw him with just about everyone I passed but by mile 30 and there were no other M25-29 BTT jerseys I was getting worried... I kept cranking; after the big climb it was just about all slightly rolling/downhill and for the 2nd half of the race I was cruising above 25mph for most of it. WHERE THE F IS COREY? He was laying to down for sure... mile 40 a few turns, a few rollers and I thought I saw him a few times- no Corey- this was taunting WTF?!?

My relief came right around mile 50. This was him for sure. I tucked and cranked in areo and as he stood up I passed him with a slap on the butt. The remaining 6 miles wasn't enough to put any sort of lead on him especially with 3 of it being a "no pass zone" and I got stuck behind someone. It's OK. I wound down, unclipped the boots and cruised into transition area.

T2 - 1:33 - Solid thoughts all around as I made up all the time Corey put on me in the swim. We left T2 together and both of us looked at each other with the same look on our faces. The face very tacitly but very distinctively screamed "Where is Nik?" We knew this kid threw down a 1:21 half marathon just a few months prior and also knew that he knew he had some time to make up...

The RUN -1:29:00- got really interesting as Corey and I were stride for stride running the opposite direction of the bikers coming in... we didn't say much but about half way down the first hill I looked at Corey You seen him yet? No real words, he just grumbled in the negative. The course was a double out an back- the first 3.5 miles up about 400ft and then back down it.

My stomach was acting up and I thought it was from a little over eating on the bike.... I washed it down with water and decided that I wasn't eating anything else for the rest of the race. I would rather bonk than get cramped up from over eating. This turned out to be the right decision. I washed all the issues away and poured water on my head at every chance I could...

I broke from Corey right around 1.5miles. Didn't know if it was the right move or not but I definitely wanted to see what he had as the hill got steeper. It took everything I had not to look back and see if he was hanging on to me or not. I had patience and I'd wait for the turn around. Some math in my head as I slapped my feet down mile 4 I figured I had about a minute on him... BUT WHERE WAS NIK?

I didn't have to wait as long to find out. I high fived him about a half a mile later and thanks to some more mental math figured I had about 6m30s on him... I was happy with that but he looked strong. I kept chugging. I felt good at this point knowing everything I wanted to know. Now the plan was to push it for the last hour of this run.

As I flew down the hill back to the aid station I thought I might go for a half marathon PR (1:27 and change) but come the half way turn around and subsequently back up the hill, the thought slowly drifted out of my mind... Keep pushing this pace...

The next onslaught of mental math was about to ensue as Corey came in for a Top Gun style hand slap I came in hot again and then went to hit him on the flip side but he wasn't on the same page... oh well... With a glance at my watch I knew I was putting time on him... Nik came next and I think he was closing the gap but I forgot to look at my watch.

It didn't matter at this point. Once I got to mile 7 it was time to empty the tank back up this hill. I burned away from the aid station at the bottom and was turning around with high spirits in no time. The next three miles HUUURT! It was the first time in a race I may have let a smile drift off my face. I usually am high fiving and cracking jokes but at that moment I was hell bent. I was very positive I had the race I planned to have and smashed PRs all around but had no idea what the total time was as I do not swim with my Garmin.

The final notable story comes with about a half of a mile to go. I don't usually count calves but this one stood out a big old "28" giving me a huge raspberry screaming "nah nah nah nah boo booo"

OH NO YOU DIDN'T!!! This was a dangerous pass attempt with such a short distance left and also such a long distance left. I didn't want to burn it too crazy and give him a chance to oust em back and my legs were already screaming. I decided to throw the best bluff of my life. I took a deep breath, focused, and threw my shoulders back to hit stride fast enough to say to him, "Don't try and catch me." but not so fast that my body couldn't ante up in the event he called me out and returned fire.

As the red numbers on top of the blue arch came into focus I saw exactly what I wanted to see 5:19:04 (I started 50m after the clock did so more challenging math let me know I was just sub 4:30) the sprint I threw down didn't fade and the kid behind me finished seconds later. I didn't know at the time but it was a sprint worthy of an (extended) podium finish of 5th AG.

I was happy for about a minute but also realized that as good as a 4:29 finish is, 5th AG wasn't going to put me where I needed to be come August 17th Ironman Mont Tremblant. It was surreal finding out I qualified for 70.3 World Championships in September but I wasn't planning on taking the spot. I thought to myself... eyes on the prize... big picture.

The change of heart came when Corey, Nik, and I regrouped and talked to the other finishers in the AG. Corey would get a roll down and with any luck Nik would too... This was awesome... Racing and training with such amazing friends with such similar speeds was absolutely more than enough to convince me to throw down $400CAN... I put in a lot of work but these two friends made my whole weekend (OK and also lit a fire under my ass!!!!)

 SEE YOU IN AT THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP 70.3!!!

Does the podium shirt make me look fat?

On Zofingen, an extra three miles, and sleeping with the race director and his wife....

OK, first off, this isn't going to be another one of those classless, smutty, bisexual, race reports that get pumped out on daily basis and I know you all are used to, so get you're mind out of the gutter and focus!!! We are talking about the hardest duathlon in the US here people! Also, SPOILER ALERT: in no way did I fornicate with the race director and his wife but how else was I supposed to hook you in to reading my self-centered sermon here?? (PS everyone knows you are not supposed to get your rocks off before a race) SO, now that I have your attention, get your coffee, pop your corn, lean in and click that chair back a notch or two and I'll tell you a story about how I spent a half a minute short of one third of my day on May 18th, 2014 and subsequently took home a pretty bad ass mug for 3rd place...(yes that is 7hrs 59min 16seconds for all you math whizzes out there!)

It starts the Saturday before the race  - I got on the bike for a quick half an hour "shake out ride" to make sure everything feels OK. Quick ten minute T-run after.... things felt miserable. Nothing felt good - I felt awkward on my bike, my throat was scratchy from sinus and breathing sucked. Runny nose to boot and I was sniffling the whole time. It was a struggle keeping 50% for the half an hour.... 

It's OK just throw some lame Facebook post up about how you feel like shit and the world will know you have an excuse for why you sucked eggs at the race tomorrow. It's all good. Just do it.... I fought the knee jerk reaction and voice inside telling me to do this allllllll damn day... and it only got worse... I said... Yeah, Yeah, I'll post something like that... just not right now... see you you feel in 5min - just don't make the decision RIGHT now... things could get better...

I debated not even going very seriously... No one else I planned on going with was going up anymore and furthermore who wants to drive 3.5 hours by themselves to the Catskills where they haven't even booked a place to stay yet? but said - just pack everything up and THEN see you you feel... things could get better. The last thing I threw in my truck was a tent as a last ditch effort in not finding a place to stay... I left my house at 2pm for a 3.5hr drive and packet pick up ended at 5pm... (cue math whizzes again... this wasn't going to work out...).... Dude it's not a big deal, you feel like shit... toss that towel in, brah, no one even knows or cares if you do this anyways.... it's going to huuuuurt and youa re going to feel like shiiitttt.... just take a nap...  The little bastard on my shoulder kept whispering in my ear... he wasn't winning the battle yet but it was a close match and my "rope a dope" delay tactics weren't hold up too well... just get up there and see how you feel - switch to short course if you have to... no biggie... things might get better...

The command to take a nap was not an exaggeration... the 3.5hr drive was even more miserable than my "shake out" workouts... I had to pull over to a rest stop !!TWICE!! to take a nap because I was nodding off at the wheel... My new ETA was 6:30pm and I felt even more like shit... things might get better I thought you never know... just don't make the decision RIGHT now...

FINALLY - I get up to the check in... Don't ask me why I still even tried to go there... It was seriously an hour and a half past the posted "end of packet pick up" but something told me to give it a shot and check the place out... hell, for all I know at this point, I am pitching a tent in the transition area for the night!...

This is actually where the weekend turns around for me... I rolled up to this gazebo on this gorgeous cliff/reserve/trailhead... There's a woman smiling ear to ear going thru packets that haven't been picked up and built/badass looking guy ripping into the bagpipes like they owe him money, and another very happy looking man filling water jugs up... This whole scene made me extremely happy (still felt like crap but it's a start)... the woman (Lucy) was the RD's wife - she scooped my number and we got to chatting a bit (weather, race, blah blah blah) she was really happy about everything and I could tell she was my kind of person! Then John (the bagpipe punishing RD) came over and started telling me about all his races and how he has been putting this race on for 10 years... I get pumped up talking to people about their races... What can I say? I love to hear about people who are just as enthusiastic about pushing their limits as me... Then, Kevin, came over and joined in the convo... he was one of the first to do this race the inaugural year and did it for the first 6 years and was telling me all about how he just did the 28 mile loop today roads were great and that I was going to have a blast... OK -things might be turning around a bit... 

We started talking about the short/mid/long courses and the fastest times and pacing...blah blah blah... and that's when I barfed out a fateful sentence that would change my weekend plans by about 3 hours... SO, are there any extra spots for the long course to switch into?? I said out loud followed quickly by a thought to myself WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG YOU -YOU ARE A DIPSHIT, NUMBSKULL, MORON!!!

John's eyes widened, "YEA! For sure! I'll switch you over right now! Usually people bump down a distance when they get up here! I've never had anyone (read: moron) ask to bump UP!" Fateful papers shuffle for a second. "Here you go #757! Great number! You're going to be flying around the course tomorrow!" (OK - it WAS a badass number.... but seriously WTF DOOD!)

For those of you who don't know the race it is essentially a 5mile trail run loop and a 28mile bike loop... the course just depends on how many loops you do...

short course= 5m run + 28m bike + 5m run

medium (which i was planning on doing) = 5m run + 28m bike +5m run + 28m bike + 5m run

long = 5m run + 84m (three straight loops) bike + 15m (three more loops) run

Now that that is over with I figured we had a bonding moment followed by him saying "you have no idea what you are in for do you" I smiled I guess ignorance is bliss... and if he solved that problem so fast I might as well hit him with another... Oh yea, by the way, I came up here with no plan at all - do you know of any motels, BnBs, or Inns around here I could crash at? He fired right back "Ahhhh I like your style! When I did Lake Placid back in '86 I did the same thing and some guy I met at registration took me in and I slept in his hotel.... You can come stay with us tonight! We have pizza on the way...

For those of you who don't know me - I live for this kind of stuff... I pick up hitch hikers and pull over to help people change tires... maybe one day it'll get me in trouble but I firmly believe 90% of humans are good people and give everyone the benefit of the doubt all the time (almost to a fault)...

It was an amazing dinner with the RD, his amazing wife (who offered to cook me pasta even after 3 slices of pizza), Kevin (who drove from Ohio just to help out with the race), and his youngest daughter (who was heading to Harvard next year to study economics and also just as pumped about the race)... these people were my people for sure... laughs..race talk... more laughs... more race talk... more making fun of how much of an idiot I was to move to the  long course... 

Suddenly I forgot all about how bad I felt and knew everything was going to be awesome tomorrow... it was 930pm and time to get ready for tomorrow and sleep. I filled my bottles up with my signature 50/50 mix of scratch labs and arginine  (which admittedly bears a disgusting aroma very much similar to that of a dumpster full of naked homeless people having an orgy) but the stuff works!!! Alarm set for 4:15am and I passed out pretty quickly....

RACE DAY WAKE UP!!!! I felt OK - better than yesterday physically but I thought back to how amazing the past day had been and how things naturally fall in to place if you just let go and stop worrying about EVERYTHING! My spirits were up and I threw on my pre-race play list (consisting of mostly Diplo, Skrillex, Deadmau5, Knife party...) as I sucked down 4 cups of applesauce, a large ice coffee, a Chobani, and two cliff bars... I dawned the onesie I would be racing in for the first time and then my sweats and it was back to sleep for half an hour or so...

Got up to pee and get rid of the dead weight I just put on via breakfast and realized it was hard to go the bathroom in a onesie... There's nothing like a 5am reminder that you will be pissing all over yourself for the rest of the day... that was the least of my problems though - I actually kind of giggled about it...

Anyways... I got the transition area around 6am -set everything up and laid down next to all my stuff and I always seem to think about setting up my first transition ever in a tri and how much of a noob I was... notice the shoes... made for a great T2 ;-)

As people trickled in it became extremely obvious that there were no chumps here... everyone was rocking the latest equipment and even though I had upgraded recently (this would be my first time racing the new Felt DA4) myself I felt incredibly out of my league... Then I overheard that some guy was riding this course last weekend and hit a dear at 40mph.... needless to say he wasn't racing today... WTF?? Where the hell am I and who are these people? Are they crazier than me?

"Long course starting in 5min" came from the megaphone. I ditched the HR monitor last minute and put on my trusty bandanna (it has become a bit of a Linus-esque safety blanket for me... I also put on my cycling gloves before the start and dabbed a bit of eucalyptus oil on each of the thumbs... (what? I like the smell... back off...) It also keeps me calm when I want to get out of the zone and hammer 500W up the next hill... I will take a whiff and get back in the right mindset... it's badass... try it!

The gunshot fires and the crew is off for (what we thought was going to be) the first 5mile loop...

We get about a mile in... to the top of the first hill (kind of) and see a sign pointing right and a very convincing ribbon blocking off the path to the left... naturally the whole crew (everyone was still kind of together at this point) goes right... then the rumbling start, "Oh a new run course! This is cool!" I thought to myself, WTF I just spent the night with the RD and he didn't say ANYTHING about a new run course... OH well... let's go...

We get about a mile and half down the wrong trail and everyone that has done the race in years past made the executive decision that we need to turn back... sounds good to me. Whatever. Let's go.

We get back to the arrow, now having run an extra three miles, four total and being at the 1 mile mark... the group flips the sign over and changes the ribbon back... here is where the trouble starts...

The lot of the group wanted to turn back and run the easy way back to the start... inform the RD of the mess up, and subsequently get on the bikes... (their logic was sound, after all, it would have ended up being 5 miles total anyways)... Me, you ask? I say they can go take their Di2s and Hokah one-one Elevens and inherent lack of testicular fortitude and shove it... I decided as they were heading down the trail back to transition that it was time to flex my still very adequately lubricated nuts and show these guys the error in thier ways/attitude... I lowered my voice an octave or two and put on my best Wahlberg (after all I was wearing a uniform with a big bold BOSTON on it... 

HEY!! YOU FAH-KIN GUYS SIGNED UP FOR A HUNDREHD MIHLE RACE AND YAH BEIN' PUSSIES ABOUT AN EXTRA TWEHNTY MINITS?? (if I knew anything about influencing a group of endurance athletes I knew you just had to poke them in the ego a bit...seemingly for this crowd who I  initially had a ton of respect for, their ego rested just an inch and a half passed their labia and up a little bit... I kind of curled my finger up a bit juuuust to make sure I hit the right spot... wait... that might be a different spot I'm thinking about but anyways, back to my exhortation...)

The second I realized what kind of bear I just poked I also realized the only thing I could do after stepping off my soap box was to lay down a dead sprint up the next hill and not even give them a chance to rebut... As I turned I heard a voice from one of the guys "but wait we all have to do the same thing or else it's gonna be fucked up"...I KNOW SO LETS GO!!! I said with out hesitation... 

One guy caught up to me... "Dude that was badass. I love your style..." we fist bumped and he took off like a mad man... I admired his curly locks sprouting from the bottom of his cap and bouncing around still happy go luck and not yet bogged down from sweat. This guy was MOVING! We introduced each other, his name was Tony, he had a bad ass accent too... man-crush was initiated... I told him I couldn't hold his pace and to have a great race... I wanted this guy to dominate and win the race immediately... a little baby part of me wondered if he could hold it together for the bike/run 3 more times... I thought I might see him on the bike depending on how fast he crushed this now 8 mile run...

But seriously... look at these curls... man-crush material...amirite?

Unfortunately - the other gentleman were not as happy with my decision... I got passed a few more times... "Fuck you, Boston!" "I hope you're happy!" and my favorite... "Asshole you better lay down a 4:30 bike split for that kind of shit!" I told him I had never done this race before so I had no idea what a 4:30 bike split would be... This didn't help the situation... "HOLY SHIT WE FOLLOWED YOU AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING!?!?" hahaha sometimes you just have to fake it till you make it and say what you want to say with enough confidence what it makes people follow you whether they like it or not... It didn't matter... I was in their heads now and I was laughing about it the whole time...

We finished the 8miles in about an hour... hopped on the bike... I felt good... 84miles of ups and downs to come... I knew I wanted to push it but was told very many times to keep it together and not to hammer the bike I picked out a number to stay at... 70%... alll race no matter what I would stay at 70% power... I had my watch display set to 1-average power 2-lap power 3- power 30s average and 4 instant power... I would be a slave to the power number for the next (hopefully 4.5 hours)... one guy bombed by me and said, "Bet you wish you had the 3 miles back now asshole!"... this guy was nuts... my response was to blow him a kiss and wink thru my Rudy's (all without breaking areo of course)... I knew I'd see that guy again...

To sum up the bike course... you can't it was absolutely the epitome of riding and climbing... hills, switchbacks, more hills, pain, gorgeous views... more pain... switchbacks... screaming descents...  I was in my glory... I stayed hydrated and kept up on my nutrition. Most importantly, I stayed at my number the whole three loops... 70%=gold.

A few notable things from the bike: A lot of people ask, "What do you think about during the whole time?"... Answer: a lot of things... mostly haikus... I think of haikus 50% of the time I am on my bike... IDK why... I sing to myself... A lot of weird things - A couple times I wondered how far ahead those curls were and if i were going to see them again... but this was my first time racing with power and I focused on that number a while...

I caught up the giant douche who I blew a kiss to almost right after the end of the first loop... He kept looking back at me... I've never seen someone so concerned about where someone else was at such an early part of the race... It wasn't healthy and as i closed the gap I wondered if he knew I was only cruising at 70%... I felt bad for this guy... Not the kind of "felt bad" where you want to crush his soul but the kind of "felt bad" where I was genuinely concerned for him... I called for a water bottle (strictly a flush-er) at the aid stop right before the start of lap two - it was a decent 15% climb over a mile to start the lap... the douche stood up and kept looking back at me... he was really really grinding to hold me off and the more he cranked and looked back at me the worse I felt for him... It was time to put him out of his misery and remind him to "race his own race" and not to worry about me... I kicked it up a notch (still in the saddle) and crept up on him as the pressure in my bladder was rising and the fresh flusher was ready to go... He was still standing up and cranking away viciously now... I passed him sitting down and once I had enough distance on him, I backed my power off back down to 70% and decided to break the seal... I rinsed off with the water bottle in one hand (still seated and climbing) to make a statement that I wasn't working nearly as hard as him and as we crested the hill I knew I wouldn't see him again...

Come to think about it... I did not see any other long coursers on the bike at all... I wasn't paying any attention to time but felt like I was doing alright. The descents we crazy... the kind of descents where you are in the perfect areo-tuck still pedaling and leaning forward just enough that you may or may not be on the edge of raising the flag to half mast because the Adamo saddle is positioned perfectly on either side of your gootch that it may or may not be externally stimulating a perfectly natural reaction of the male reproductive organ... WAIT... focus... can't waist the blood flow... back to the race... you guys know what I'm talking about... amiright?.... amirightttt?? ahhhh OK anways....

Another climb... another decent... last lap... I decided I was going to gun-deck this last lap and bump it up a little bit... just a little... I pushed it... another notable descent (and, I would argue, milestone in my life as an endurance athlete) concluded with me, now a lot more comfortable on the descents and turns and such peeing my pants at 48 miles per hour... the 5 year old in me giggled... it was time to get off the bike...

My legs felt a little bit less than great but as rolled into transition, I looked down, and realized I was exactly where I wanted to be... Thanks to a great plan by a great coach and an amazing pre-race rundown by another great friend who won this thing a few years back ;-)... Kevin (who was running transition) yelled to me... "HELL YEAH BILLY YOU'RE IN 6th PLACE!"

Honestly, I was kinda bummed. I hadn't been keeping track of my place but I had an idea in my head that I was third for some reason... oh well.. fuck it... let's go... I slipped my shoes on to scratch at what ever I could... I had no idea where these guys were but I was going to nail these last three 5mile laps not hard... but consistently... well OK - I was going for a healthy mix of the two...

Bingo! I ran up through the gazebo and saw #5 and #4... ohh damn... a chick... sexy...

Now that I had a sniff at the podium I got my ass in gear... The first lap was tough - a LOT longer than I remembered it to be from  the first leg... even minus the 3 miles... i slowly at a banana a long the way but I was having MAJOR stomach issues... I knew what it was... It was all the gels backing up - this was the first race where I did nothing but gels and liquid calories... i needed to switch to water for the rest of the foreseeable race and manage this stomach or I was doomed... here was my thought process for the next few miles...

lap one... fuck... 10 more miles...  fuck... back up this first hill... fuck... must be 2 miles into the 2nd lap... fuck.... only really half a mile in to the 2nd lap... fuck .... 9.5 more miles... fuck... more hills... fuck... slow down... fuuuuckk... walk this hill...

Then it hit me... I was so worried about the rest of the race that I let my fear of the "future hurt" dictate my pace "right now" I heard one of my favorite yoga teachers I used to go to a lot - she always said, "Just go now" the "now" part of the statement really rang out to me... I realized I hadn't worried about the future once this whole weekend but here I was with an hour and half left in this race and I was worried about how I was feeling the next mile instead of what really mattered, THIS MILE... THIS STEP... you have to stay in the present if you want to excel at anything... just do your best when you can and worry about the next decision when the time comes... I said to myself "Make the next stride the best you've taken all race" and if I am lucky enough to make the same decision a moment later... I will..  the remaining miles floated by as a series of single steps... I didn't care about anything else... it was magical... and I kept smiling... 

About mid way through the 2nd lap I saw something I honestly was not expecting to see for the rest of the race... the curls... there they were (they still looked good)(I wish I could rock long hair like this guy did) the curls were tired though... They weren't as happy as they were when they faded off into the sunrise... I talked to Tony for a few minutes and walked with him up one of the hills... He was the man... I got my hustle on though (after all...there was still a chick close behind!)...

Nothing else mattered... I had this... I kept cruising... I didn't feel my legs screaming, my feet weren't even hitting the ground... each step was taking itself... I was just a vessel for this amazing thing happening... these trails we gorgeous... everything in life made sense... the universe was perfect. I crossed the finish line to the sound of "AWESOME JOB 3rd PLACE OVERALL" - I knew I was in 3rd but I still didn't beleive it. I balled my eyes out like a little baby... I hadn't had that emotional response to a finish since my first marathon in 2011... I entered the marathon honestly not knowing if I could finish the 26.2.... then when I did... It triggered this emotional finish that came from extremely deep... I finished in like 3hrs 40min but it was the finish that counted... Didn't get that emotional finish from anything since... not ironman (yet), not ultras, not crossfit competitions... not anything... I thought back to all the hours I put in on the trainer in my basement in November... the 4hr sub zero trainer rides/T-runs in December... the time my furnace oil tank ran out of fuel and I woke up to a house that was 40 degrees at 430AM and my first thought was to bundle up and hop on the trainer to warm up (THEN after the workout was complete decided to call for an emergency fuel delivery)... I thought about the 20mile runs in negative temperatures when no one else was around... the time in February when my buddies wanted to party in Boston for the weekend so I ran from my house to Back Bay on Saturday, stayed up until 3am, then ran back at 8am... the freezing Battle Roads - all the sacrifices... The focus is dialed in this year and everything is coming together effortlessly... I'll leave you with a quote from a book that literally changed my life when I was so far down in a depression hole that many people see me today and cannot believe the person I was a few years ago...  

"And, when you want something bad enough, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Results here... notice the consistency (and bike split... not 4:30.. but hey!)

http://yellowjacketracing.com/files/user/AmZof_2014_Du_OV_LongCourse.htm