MET-Rx Meltdown: August 9, 1998

PROLOGUE
MET-Rx was my third and last half-Ironman of this season, and together
with Wildflower, twas one of my big 'goal races'. I knew it was going
to be hot and hard and had been intentionally training in the heat
(including one really hot session at Diablo) and innumerable midday
workouts. I'd also taken a long 8-day taper and had plenty of rest and
carbos. I was planning to go down Thursday, which would give me plenty
of time to check out the course and get a little more used to the heat
and work out my hydration schedule. Despite this intense preparation,
things did not go well.

Things didn't start out well either. On Wednesday, I finally tracked
down my bike's persistent clicking, not to the bottom bracket as I'd
previously suspected, but to the left pedal-crank interface. Those of
you who've read my New Balance race report may remember that the crank
eye thread was galled, so I wasn't too surprised that this was the
problem.  A quick trip to Wheelsmith saw the pedal removed (thanks to
Wheelsmith for taking care of this while I waited), but both the pedal
threads and the crank were ruined, resulting in my having to run
around town to find a new crank arm and pedals (Wheelsmith didn't have
them.)

By the time all this was finished, I didn't really have time to pack,
so I ended up leaving on Friday instead of Thursday.

The trip down was similarly dogged by mechanical problems. About
half-way down to Perris, my truck started to overheat, so I had to
stop for a half an hour or so in order to fill up the radiator fluid,
and consequently baby the vehicle in order to prevent further
overheating. After stop-and-going through Pasadena rush hour, I
finally arrived at Perris around 5:00, and toured the bike course, and
then headed to the hotel for dinner and an early bed-time.

SATURDAY
I slept in late on Saturday and then headed down to the race site for
check-in, etc. The original race announcement had said no wetsuits,
but the race pamphlet said they would be permitted if the water were
under 78. I decided to take a quick dip in the lake and found the
water a bit warm with a wetsuit, but nice without. Questions to the
race officials led conflicting answers, so I decided to bring my
wetsuit just in case.

I checked in and picked up my race packet.  I assembled the bike and
took it for a quick spin. Everything was fine, except that I had to
tighten the pedal release tension, which was quickly done. I zip-tied
my race number onto the bike and headed down towards the MET-Rx tent
(the only air conditioned place in the whole expo) for the pre-race
briefing--and an unpleasant surprise.

We were told, as I already knew, that the bike course was long (62
miles was the announced number) but moreover that of the three bike
aid stations, only one would be serving O.R.S. Furthermore, the run
aid stations wouldn't have ice. Still no concrete information about
the wetsuits.

I really wasn't pleased about the O.R.S. situation. I'd been making
special effort to train with O.R.S., and found it much better than
water.  After the briefing, I went up to talk to the official to
complain. After all, O.R.S. had been promised in the race brochure,
and seeing as MET-Rx was the title sponsor, it seemed pretty silly not
to have it.  I was told I'd need to talk to the RD or the MET-Rx guys
(of which there were many) after some looking, I managed to find them,
and was told that they would arrange for O.R.S. to be available at all
the bike aid stations after all.

I left my bike racked in the transition area, as suggested by the race
pamphlet. This seemed like quite a nice innovation, since I didn't
have to worry about my bike the next morning, leaving me free to head
back to the hotel and an early evening.


RACE DAY
I was up at 4:10 AM and to the race site by 5:15. There was already a
long line to get into the park, and I rather inconvenienced the woman
manning the gate by having forgotten my free parking pass and trying
to pay with a 20. She didn't have any change, so I ended up getting in
free. I didn't feel too guilty about this, since I did after all have
the pass floating around somewhere.

Once I got inside, parking was no problem and I had plenty of time to
set up, fill my bottles, etc. While setting up, it was announced that
wetsuits were forbidden, which was somewhat of a relief. No need to
worry about overheating. (Of course I could always not wear
a wetsuit even if they were allowed but that meant choosing
between a time advantage and overheating).

2 hours before the start seems like a long time, but by the time setup
was accomplished, I had only a half an hour or so left.  My usual
race-day runs meant an extended trip to the bathrooms, and despite
popping a couple of Lomotil, I was still in the bathroom until shortly
before the swim start.


SWIM
This is the first triathlon I've ever done with a non-wetsuit swim,
but it actually went pretty well. As is my custom, I positioned myself
towards the back of the swim pack, so noone swam over
me. Unfortunately, this means that I have to swim over a number of
other competitors, but that's better than being swum over, IMHO.

After a few minutes, I found myself completely separated from the rest
of the pack. I wasn't really able to look back, but looking forward,
there was clearly a large pack somewhat in front of me, but since my
age group was wearing dark colored caps, and I'm not the best sighter,
following them wasn't easy.  Moreover, this meant that I had noone to
draft, which meant that I had to go it alone.

I missed the turn buoy and had to swim backwards towards
it. Eventually, I ended up going just inside it which I felt a guilty
about, but I got over it quickly, since while I was swimming back, I
heard the volunteer on the kayak saying that they needed to do
something cause everyone was swimming inside the buoy.

I certainly didn't intentionally cut the course and I easily swam the
entire distance. In practice, it's not like I gained any significant
advantage, and I turned out to finish far away from anyone else in my
age group, so it didn't make any difference in the standings. Readers:
what's the appropriate thing to do here?

On the way back, I found a slightly faster swimmer to draft off of,
and tried to stay behind him without giving him a foot massage, though
I think I hit his feet with my hands more than I should have. Dude, I
don't remember your number, but sorry 'bout that.

I finished the swim strong and climbed up the beach to the transition
area.


T1
With no wetsuit to take off, I made a fairly fast transition.  Heading
out of the transition area, I heard 38:30, so I figure my swim was
about 35 or 36 minutes, which isn't bad considering that I was taking
it easy and had no wetsuit. (My wetsuit PR is about 33 minutes). I
don't know how other people did, so maybe the course was short.


BIKE
The bike started out well. I immediately started with a salt tablet
and started eating and drinking immediately. For my other races, I've
used Gu, but my plan this race was to use Powerbars for the bike, on
the theory that they provide a more even supply of energy. Moreover,
previously Gu has left a sticky sweet flavor in my mouth, and I
thought Powerbars might be better.

The bike course is a two-loop course. The opening section is gently
uphill rollers, which I intentionally took easy. This was going to be
a good day and I didn't want to blow my wad on the bike too
early. After leaving the park, there was a short downhill section,
more rollers and then a moderate uphill.  This took us to Allessandro,
one of the three main roads of the course.

Upon reaching Allessandro, we were greated by the fragrant smell of
the neighboring chicken ranch. This accompanied the first real heat of
the day, as the clouds started to burn off. Allessandro is gently
rolling and vaguely downhill, but we were immediately riding into a
nasty headwind, which made it seem much more uphill. In fact, the
overwhelming impression I have of the bike course is that it was all
uphill.

So far, things were going pretty well. I was keeping my hydration
schedule (A liter of O.R.S. and 200 mgs of sodium every half hour or
so) and my heart rate in the right range (155-160 bpm) On the other
hand, I was having some trouble with my feeding schedule. My plan was
to have a fifth of a PowerBar every 10 minutes, but the PowerBar was
tasting over-sweet and I was only managing to do about half this. On
the other hand, the O.R.S. has a lot of carbos, so I wasn't too
worried.

The next big stretch is Gilman Springs road, which contains both the
first bike aid station and the worst pavement of the entire race.  I
picked up a water bottle, but was prevented from grabbing an
O.R.S. bottle by having to dodge a water bottle on the road.  Still, I
was planning on drinking some water and some O.R.S. so this isn't so
bad, though it would be nice if the aid station had been better
organized to make sure we got stuff.

Soon enough, we hit the Sanderson Avenue turnoff (which connects
Gilman Springs to the last big stretch, Ramona Expressway), and were
greeted by a delightful cool breeze. I have no idea where it came
from, but it was certainly a wonderful surprise, though a short-lived
one.

Ramona is simply a long hot slog. Worse yet, the Ramona aid station
had only water, no O.R.S., and all my O.R.S.  was gone. Still, I
needed some fluid, so I took what was handed to me. The 2 mile climb
back to Perris Road and the end of the loop wasn't actually that bad
for me.  One good thing about the Death Ride is that it's made
triathlon climbs seem easy by comparison.

The third aid station was unusually organized. You head slightly back
towards the race start, do a u-turn, and pick up your water bottles on
the way back. Still, since this is slightly uphill, this gave me the
opportunity to slow down a lot and pick up three new bottles full of
O.R.S., which I sorely needed at this point.

It was pretty hot by now, but I was still feeling pretty good even
when I got to Gilman Springs. Hydration was going pretty well (except
for the involuntary O.R.S.-water substitution). I threw away my empty
bottles as I approached the Gilman Springs aid station in preparation
for the handoff and called out "O.R.S." The boy scout manning the aid
station called out "Nothing".

"Nothing????"
"Nothing!".
"What the fuck???"

This is not good.

I made it about half-way to the next aid station before I completely
ran out of fluid. No cool breeze at Sanderson this time either, so
it's just baking mile after baking mile.  The Ramona Expressway is no
picnic either. All they have is water (warmish, out of a garden
hose). The rider in front of me got all the bottles they had filled,
so I had to stop and wait for them to fill up more bottles for me
(incidentally, blocking the person behind me. Sorry 'bout that, but my
excuse is that I was so dehydrated I didn't much know what I was
doing.) Still, this helps a little bit and I'm able to limp back to
the the transition area.

Time: roughly 3:20.


T2
Second surprise. There aren't that many bikes in the transition area,
and lots of people are just putting their clothes on and giving up. I
HATE DNFing, so I decide to keep going.  On the other hand, I'm not
about to hurry my transition just so I can get out into the heat. A
slow (I don't know how slow) transition, complete with sunscreen
reapplication followed.

Rob, the guy I'd been trading places with for most of the bike and I
set out on the run. The goal: survival.


RUN
The run is an out-and-back run over the dam, with the big climb (the
Rock) at mile 2.5 and then a 3.5 mile run through the park.  By the
mile 1 aid station Rob had already dropped me, and I hooked up with
Linda, who ran with me up to the Rock. Halfway up, I started to get
the chills. This meant stopping at the mile 3 aid station and powering
down a lot more O.R.S. (as much as I can take without being nauseous)
and a salt tablet. Bye Linda! (Linda went on to get a Kona slot).

The rest of the run is pretty much the same story. A slow run in
between aid stations followed by stopping at the aid station to try to
stay ahead of dehydration. The problem: I'm ready to vomit.

So, the new plan goes like this:
1. Run as fast as you can until you feel like you're going
to be sick. 
2. Back off.
3. Continue till the next aid station
4. Stop for a minute and get something to drink and maybe
a sponge.
5. Go to step 1.

This put rather a crimp on a good performance, since the vomit
threshold was a lot lower than my lactate threshold, leaving pretty
much the only option to slog along at a moderate pace, which I did.

Nothing else went really wrong until the mile 8 aid station, which had
run out of water. This wasn't good but I managed to plug along until
mile 9 which was well stocked, and gave me the power to get over The
Rock.

Right as I hit the dam, I was passed by a woman named Bo and I managed
to stay with her at what felt for me like a blazing clip (probably
about 7:30). I stuck with her to the dam and almost all the way to the
finish, managing to pass one more person in my age group and finally
managed to stagger across the finish line 5-10 seconds behind her.

Final time: 6:13.


AFTERMATH
At this point, I did not feel good. I staggered over to the medical
tent and sat down and got another unpleasant surprise.  At Wildflower,
the last time I'd needed it, medical was extremely aggressive with
IV. Here I couldn't get one.

I told them I was dehydrated and was offered cold towels and O.R.S.
The cots (of which there were about 5) were all full so I didn't
initially ask for an IV. When I did ask, I was told that they were
only if you were really unstable. Finally I gave up and left.

A half an hour later, I still was feeling nauseous so I came back to
the Med tent. I told them I was nauseous and dehydrated and was
offered O.R.S. -- completely missing the point that I was nauseous and
so couldn't drink it. When I explained this, I was told to lie down
and they put cold towels on me -- again missing the point that I
wasn't overheated, just dehydrated. They took my blood pressure and
left me there. (I heard the assistant tell the RN that I wasn't
hypertensive and the RN told her that I was fine and they should leave
me alone). Noone said anything to me mind you, they just left me
there.

Finally I realized that noone was going to even talk to me and got up
and left. I took the time to talk to the RN who told me that there was
no doctor there and that the doctor she worked for would only
authorize IV for those who were hypertensive. I tried to explain why
this was unhelpful in my case and she said to take it up with the RD
because they didn't have a doctor around. I said I would.

ASSESSMENT
I believe that it was that second bike lap that did me in.  I got
dehydrated missing that aid station and never really recovered. If I'd
been able to stick to my hydration schedule, I think I would have been
in much better shape on the run and not had to stop anywhere near so
much.

That said, I think I would have been better served to stop and sit at
the Run Mile 3 aid station and really rehydrate and then I might have
been able to run the rest of the race straight through. I think this
would have given me a better time and I would have been much
happier. Hopefully I'll never have to deal with that situation again,
but I think I know better what to do now.

I'm obviously not pleased with my performance, but I survived under
really tough conditions and I have the confidence that i can tough it
out in the future if I have to. Also, the time isn't as bad as it
looks. Chris Legh's winning time was around 5 hours.

I do believe that the salt tablets helped a lot. I recovered
relatively quickly that evening and had a real dinner, which I didn't
manage after Wildflower, when I didn't have salt tablets. Moreover, I
think my hydration schedule was more or less on target. Now if I can
just find a food bar that doesn't taste sickly sweet on the bike.


RACE COMMENTS
I'm incredibly disappointed with this race. Not only was it
disorganized, but the support was abominable. The RD knew the
conditions would be hot and dehydration would be a problem (The race
pamphlet said so for heaven's sake!) and yet they didn't even manage
to supply enough fluids. With the bike course extended, there should
have been extra aid stations but at the very least, they should have
been well stocked.

They weren't. At a MET-Rx sponsored race, there should at least be
enough O.R.S. To not only not have enough O.R.S. but to run out of
water displays IMHO a callous disregard for the safety of the
competitors. Having ice at only one place on the run displays a
disregard for their comfort.

I don't know what the DNF rate was (I've heard 20-40%) but I've never
seen people abandoning in T2 before. I understand that this was a hard
course, but I believe that so many people abandoned because the
support was so bad and they didn't think it was worth it. The few
people who I talked to who quit said pretty much this.

The medical situation inspires similar feelings. Wildflower probably
had 25 cots. This race had less than 10 -- under far worse
conditions. Not having a doctor on hand seems ill-prepared.  In my
case it meant two hours of being miserable and dehydrated that could
have been avoided--and I was in pretty good shape.

I heard a number of other horror stories, but I can't personally vouch
for them so I won't repeat them here.

I think the way this race was handled reflects very poorly on both the
RD and MET-Rx. I expected a touch race. I didn't expect it to be
inadequately supported. MET-Rx had a very expensive looking booth,
complete with innumerable booth babes. I can't help but think that
a small fraction of that expense could have ensured that the support
was adequate.

Bottom line: I don't believe I will do this race again unless I have
some reason to believe things will be handled better
next year.