NEW BALANCE HALF IRON 1998 For some reason, no matter how prepared you think you are, something goes wrong to tell you you're not. I figured I'd use the New Balance Half-Iron as a dry run for MET-Rx. This was the first race I'd had to fly to, so the big thing seemed to be getting a bike case and learning how to pack it. The race was on Sunday and I was flying out on Thursday, so naturally my heart rate monitor (Polar Protrainer NV) chose the previous weekend to fail. Knowing that there was no way I could get the battery replaced in time to have it back for the race, and wanting to race with my HRM, I ended up buying a new Accurex Plus. I'm annoyed by this, but actually fairly happy with the Accurex Plus. It's more reliable than the Protrainer was (I used to get a lot of misreads) and I really like the sampling feature, since it let me reexamine my race. And now I've got a spare, or at least will when I get my old one replaced by Polar. The next bit of pre-race excitement occurred when I went to disassemble my bike for transport. I only have one bike, so this meant doing it the night before I left. As those of you who have hardshell cases know, you remove the wheels, seat, headset and pedals to pack the case. Everything but the left pedal came off just fine. Unfortunately, the left pedal came off about two turns (yes, I do know which way to turn it) and stuck fast. Even the usual combination of a wrench extender, WD-40, and swearing was unable to dislodge it. Even pulling a muscle in my back didn't seem to be enough. Finally, I gave up and brought it to Palo Alto Bike, where the mechanic nicely stayed after hours to help me. He got it about as far off as I did and announced that the threads were trashed and that removing the pedal would destroy the crank arm. Not wanting to replace the crank arm three days before a race, I had him tighten it on good and just pulled the whole arm off when I got home. After this, I pretty much gave up for the night and went to bed, resolved to pack in the morning. Got up early Thursday morning and went for a quick swim, only to discover that my back and shoulder were still sore. Not much to do about it except hope that it went away by Sunday. Getting to British Columbia went well, except for the annoyance of having to pay $50 to get my bike on the plane. I'd like to take a moment here to mention how beautiful the weather in BC is this time of year. Coming from the El Nino ridden SF Bay, I expected BC to be equally bad, but it was cool and sunny and people kept telling me how they expected the weather to get BETTER over the next couple days. What an area! I spent Saturday morning riding part of the course and ended up at Hamsterly Park where the race started. On my way back, I ran into Normond, the RD, so I got a chance to ask about Ironman Canada slots. Turns out we had to be ready with a photo and the entry fee at the end of the race, so I spent some time screwing around getting the cash (I'd left my checkbook at home) and a photo. I should say at this point that I didn't really have qualifying in mind when I signed up, but there were 30 people in my age group trying to qualify and 6 slots, so I figured my chances were pretty good, and I should at least be ready. SATURDAY EVENING As usual, the night before the race is devoted to relaxation, preparation, and sleep. I measure out my ORS (they're serving All-sport, but I don't want it) and arrange for a ride down to the race site. Peter, (from Calgary, Eh), is nice enough to let me ride with him. I power down some carbohydrates, and generally try to mellow out. RACE DAY The alarm goes off at 4:30. This gives me plenty of time to get conscious, down at the site and ready for the 7:15 men's race start. We get there about 6:15 and I get body marked, put on some sunscreen and lay out my stuff at the transition area. I've got some idea what to do this time, and I've got a little checklist with me to help out, so there shouldn't be any surprises during transition. As usual, there's a long line for the porta-johns, but the women's start is 20 minutes delayed, so I've got lots of time (The men start 29 minutes after the women.) Yet again, I have the runs, so I pop a couple of Lomotil and hope that my bowels will quiet down. With 10 minutes to go, I get my wetsuit on and head down to the water to warm up. The water is completely murky, but at least my shoulder seems to have recovered some. On Thursday, every stroke hurt, but this time I'm pain-free. I hate getting swum over, so once I'm warmed up, I line up towards the back of the swim pack. THE SWIM What's there to say about the swim? I usually try to take it pretty easy on the swim and finish mid-pack. It's not my strong event, and I'd rather have the energy for the bike and run. That's the strategy I followed here, or at least tried to. Since the water was really murky and I don't sight very well, I actually picked out a series of people who looked to be going about my pace and follow them. As usual, the course is a big triangle, and I'm already pretty tired before I've gone halfway down the first long leg. I lost 3 weeks of swimming when I broke my wrist, and I've only been swimming about 4 times in the 3 weeks since, so I'm not exactly in the best swim shape of my life. So, by the end of the first leg of the triangle, I'm not wiped out, but I'm pretty much ready for the swim to be over. My shoulder doesn't hurt, but my wrist is starting to. I've got a long way to go, so I shrug it off and just keep swimming. Eventually I sort of get into the zone and finally we round the last buoy, and though it's a ways off, at least the end is in sight. From what I can tell, I'm sort of in the middle of the pack. There are a lot of people in front of me, though not THAT far in front but there are a lot of people behind too. (All the men started at once, so figuring out who's in my age group is impossible at this point.) The final leg actually goes fairly quickly, and soon I see people standing up. I take a crack at it myself, but I'm still feeling pretty sluggish and I take another 5 strokes or so and then stagger out of the water, unzipping my wetsuit. The velcro timing tag is in two pieces, one for the swim and one for the bike. I accidentally take them both off, hand the swim one to the volunteer and struggle to put the other one back on my wrist. Someone yells out something like 33, and I'm thinking that's not such a bad time. Official Swim time: 32:57. T1 Stagger is the operative word here. The usual post-swim dizziness hits me hard, but I manage to get my wetsuit off and sit on the grass while I put my jersey and shoes on. Right about now Peter comes up, clocks about a 5 second transition and speeds off. This is the last time I'll see him for the day. We had to walk (well run) our bikes to the end of the transition area, which I sort of manage, and then I climb onto the bike, hit the start on the HRM and I'm off. T1 Time: 3:11. BIKE They've already announced that photos will be taken right as we leave the transition are, so I get on the aero bars and put on my best dedicated look. This seems to have worked pretty well since I now have the photo and it looks fine. This despite the fact that my heart rate is 169. Also, my bike computer seems to have conked out. Guess I'll have to just guess at my times. The bike course is 3 laps around a fairly rolling course, with a short leg from the park to the course. This leg is uphill and I start passing people immediately. Looks like I'm not the only one who got disoriented by the swim. My heart has calmed down to about 160 by the time I get out on the course proper, and I'm cruising along at a pretty good clip. We hit the first big downhill and I hear a nasty clatter as my pump pops off and goes bouncing down the roadway. I think about stopping to pick it up, but there are people behind me, so I resolve to stop and grab it the next time around. The field calms down a little bit and I start steadily passing people. There doesn't seem to be any draft marshalling but I also don't see any really blatant drafting and not too much blocking. The Aid station is located at mile 8 or so, so we get there pretty quickly. I turn down the All-Sport and PowerBars, but a couple swallows of water make a nice change from ORS. I get away from the aid station and power down a Gu and a salt tablet, followed by some ORS. The back stretch of the course seems easier (except for a slightly tricky bit going through town -- hey, isn't that Peter Reid directing traffic???) and soon I'm onto the second lap. 52 minutes or so for the first lap so I'm looking at a 2:40 bike split. Right around here I come up behind this guy who's sitting far to the left. I pass on the right and the guy behind me comes up on the left. Then the blocker passes me again. A few minutes go by and I pass him (again on the right) on a downhill. Another few minutes and he passes me. I back off but he stays left. I swerve way out into the left lane to pass him and he almost swerves into me as I yell "Hold your line". A few miles later he passes me again. Now, I don't mind him passing me, that's part of the race. What I DO mind is that he keeps blocking me. Finally, after I pass him the third time on the right, I yell "This is the third time I've passed you on the right, stay right. You're blocking." He tells me to chill out but I'm already dropping him, and I don't see him again. Another aid station stop and another Gu and salt tablet. This seems to be working cause I'm not cramping up. I dump my first of two spare bottles of ORS into my drinking system and start pushing my way through the third lap. Right around now, I start catching up with a lot of the women's field. It's probably really demoralizing for them to be passed by so many people, but it's great for me. It's not like there are so many women that they're in the way, but there are enough that I feel like I'm making real forward progress. Actually, I've passed a lot of men, too, and not that many have passed me, so I AM making some forward progress. Last time through the aid station, another gulp of water, and I'm almost there now. I pop another Gu and salt tablet and drain my last bottle of ORS. Last time by Peter Reid and we're on the last hill. I finally pass that pesky Relay guy who passed me on the first lap and enter the transition area. Official Bike Time: 2:36:17 T2 I haven't quite mastered the art of changing shoes while standing up, so I have a seat, pull of my cycling shoes, change jerseys, grab a final swill of ORS, and I'm off. My right shoe is too loose, but maybe it will be ok. I remember to grab my HRM this time, but I'm too clumsy to actually put it on my wrist, so I'm of onto the run with the HRM in one hand and the timing tag in the other. Oh, don't forget the hat. T2 Time: 2:23 RUN It's rapidly becoming obvious that things aren't good. I'm about 2K in, and discovering the meaning of the word 'brick'. My overdistance run pace is about 8:00 and that's pretty much the pace I'm doing. Worse yet, people are starting to pass me left and right as I slog along. I try to grab some drinks at a few aid stations, but it feels like my stomach is completely full and I quickly stop drinking rather than risk vomiting. A couple guys in my age group pass me and I ask them if they're going for IMC slots. They say yes and I get that sinking feeling like I'm not going to Penticton. One 18-29 guy in a matching two-piece Rip-N-Hammer suit tears by me like I'm standing still, which I pretty much am. Still, that doesn't mean that I don't need to finish. I'm still feeling pretty awful by the time I hit the aid station around mile 5, but I manage to swallow some PowerGel. Of course, there's never a trash can around when you need one so I'm stuck carrying that empty PowerGel wrapper for what's probably a mile but seems like 10. I'm passed by a woman who seems to be going just a little faster than me, so I decide to try to stay with her rather than just falling back. We run together for a while and get to talking. Her name is Nadia and she's going for a 5:30. Since I'm going for sub 5, we should finish pretty much together. On to the 10K mark and I pick up the bottle of ORS and pretzels I've left at the special needs table. My mouth is completely dry but I manage to cram down a few pretzels before I toss the bag away. I start slowly sipping the ORS, trying to get some fluid in my system while fighting back nauseau and cramping. But soon, even this slow pace gets to be to too much for me, and I fall back and let Nadia go. 13 miles to go seems like a long way, but 5 doesn't seem so bad, so with 5 miles to go I start to pick up the pace a bit. Oh, there's Nadia again, trying to recover from cramps. I slow down a bit and try to be encouraging, but she looks pretty miserable. 3 miles to go and Nadia catches up with me again. Looks like we're in it together now. I'm certainly not trying to lose her and it's someone to run with. 4 K, 3K. Hey, it's the Rip-N-Hammer guy, and I'm catching him. Well, I'm certainly not about to let someone in my age group get away, so I put on some speed and pass him. A minute later I look back and he's gone, but Nadia is too. Oh well, it's time to finish it off. We're at the lake and it's 2K to go. Final mile and here we go. Huh? It's the finish line. Where's my last kilometer? Oh well, into the chute, final sprint, and I'm done. Official Run Time: 1:41:43 Overall Time: 4:56:31 POST RACE Yay! The salt tablet strategy seems to have worked, since I didn't need IV fluids this time. I'm certainly planning to try it out at MET-Rx where the heat/dehydration will be much worse. As it happens, I didn't get an IMC slot. The last slot went to someone who did 4:40 so I was quite far away. The IMC slots weren't handled as well as I would have liked: Basically, after the awards, we were told to go over to the table where they'd be handing out the slots. But they couldn't do it till they had all the results in (understandable). We all waited for about an hour or so, during which time we sorted ourselves out and I was fairly sure that I wasn't in, but I figured I'd wait it out. Eventually, a bunch of people had to go and were allowed to write their names down and the forms would be FedExed to them if they qualified. This annoyed quite a few people, me included, since it had been announced that (as with Hawaii) you had to be there to get a slot. I know at least one guy who couldn't wait around who would have otherwise gotten a slot, and of course if the announced rules had been followed, the slots would have rolled down even farther. There was a lot of griping about this, naturally, from people who were just a place or two away. I found it somewhat annoying as well, since I had gone to a fair amount of effort to be ready to sign up in case I qualified, and of course I wouldn't have bothered if I'd known I could just mail in my application. RACE IMPRESSIONS I'm fairly pleased with my performance here. I dropped 25 minutes from my Wildflower time, and though this is an easier course it's not THAT much easier. It's starting to become pretty clear to me that my run is the problem. I can easily do better than 8 minute miles in training, so why can't I do better in a race? I suspect the problem is a combination of two things: 13 miles seems like a really long distance and I'm already tired so I just don't push myself as hard on the run as I should. The heart rate monitor bears me out here since I only got up to like 160 bpm and my run LT is well over 170. The second is just that I'm really tired at this point and I need to learn how to run fast while tired. I believe the solution to both problems is the same: more fast distance running both in tempo runs and in long bricks, so I get used to the idea of running fast over long distances. After all, I've never actually raced longer than 10K and that only once. Probably racing a half marathon or marathon would help as well. Anyone out there have any suggestions? As for the race itself, I thought it was extremely well done. However, a few comments: As a rule, I'm not that fond of multiloop courses, but the bike was sufficiently pretty that it was ok. The run, on the other hand, I found a little wearing. This may say more about me than about the course, however. It would have been nice to have kilometer markers on the bike. Cycle computers are fine, but official markers are better. It's very inconvenient to have All-Sport served, when noone seems to know how to get All-Sport powder to try out (mixed powder is different from what comes in the bottles). I have a sensitive stomach, and the necessity of trying something out in training before racing with it forced me to bring all my own drinks. Either the race pamphlets should say where to get some or something else should be served. More energy gels on the run course would be nice. The run course was shorter than advertised, which made it hard (at least for me) to judge where to start my kick. There's been a lot of discussion lately of course measurement, and while I don't feel 'ripped off' because I didn't get my extra kilometer, it is kind of inconvenient. I don't insist that the course be a perfect half-Ironman, but it would be nice to have the advertised distance be correct. The IMC slots were, as previously noted, badly handled, and I think this left a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths. More porta-johns are always appreciated. Bottom line, there's always room for improvement, but this was a beautiful, well run race on a beautiful course. The volunteers were great and the support was good. I tried to thank as many of them as I could, but I know I didn't say it anywhere near enough, so thanks Norm and everyone else. I'll see you all next year.