My favorite Holiday is July 4th. I love BBQs, I love open water swims, I love spending time with family in the middle of the summer. It was an awesome day this year too. My parents were visiting and I was able to get in a solid day of training, plus a nice little bonus swim with Odin (see pic). We saw fireworks, ate burgers and brats, enjoyed a cake decorated like the US flag, and spent some quality time with our friends here in Chicago. My legs are beat up, but it was totally worth it for all the fun we had.
Mountain Climbers, Navy Seals, and Overhydrated Triathletes
Three weeks ago I had a pretty scary experience in Connecticut. I was there for the Quassy Rev3 Triathlon, a half-iron distance race on a hilly course in warm weather. After finishing 3rd at CapTex in Austin the week before I felt a bit out of shape and had only decided to race the Rev3 as a way to test out a new half-iron nutrition plan. I was hoping to finish the race feeling good, and avoid heat exhaustion and the medical tent.
When I came out of the water way behind the leaders I wasn’t surprised, and when I was unable to ride away from the large pack of cyclists (okay I was barely able to hold on) it didn’t seem like an implausible performance given how I felt prior to the race. Around mile 20, however, I noticed that there was more going wrong with my body than some tired muscles.
As we started a 7 mile long climb, which summits around mile 30 of the 56 mile course, I lost contact with the group. It was then I realized that I was struggling to breath, and coughing up fluid. It seemed to get worse unless I backed off, and being in my aerobars was worse than sitting up. Fluid in the lungs is a pretty obvious abnormality that makes it easy to decided to quit. I waved to the ref as I pulled to the side of the road to call it a day, but he simply nodded at me and zipped off. After my experiences in San Juan and Saint Croix I was well aware that the fastest way to the med tent, if you can move at all, is on your own two feet (or wheels). I sat up and pedaled slowly through the remainder of the 56 miles, coughing the entire way and feeling like I was drowning on dry land.
Back at transition we noted a pink tint to the fluid I was coughing up, and the med staff sent me to the hospital. I was really lucky to have Abby’s parent’s at the race spectating, so when I was admitted to the hospital for tests and overnight monitoring I at least had family to keep me company.
After initial testing showed that I was unlikely to have heart or lung failure I was released, but told not to fly until further testing had been done at home. I spent a day in New York with Abby’s family, then took a train back to Chicago (20hrs, it’s not worth the views).
Last week I went through further testing, an MRI, a stress test, and a couple hours with one of the area’s top cardiologists. And in the 12 days between the race and the results of my tests I spent most of my time trying to figure out where my life was heading. I was terrified, but interestingly it wasn’t the prospect of no longer being able to compete in athletics that scared me. I’m pretty good at coming up with creative ways to enjoy my life, and I know that the next part of my life, post-triathlon, will be just as exciting and fun. No, I found myself more concerned with my family. This is the third race this year where I’ve had problems, and I’m at a point where I know that when I race my family and friends are praying for the next update to come across twitter so they know I’m okay. I want to them to be excited to watch me race, not fearful.
By the time I arrived to my final doctor’s appointment to review my test results I was almost hoping for there to be something wrong with me that would explain every problem – from heat exhaustion to edema. Fixable or not, end of my career or not, I wanted a way to tell everyone who cares about me that I’ll be okay, that I know what to do, and they can stop worrying. But that’s not what the tests said.
It was good news. They found nothing wrong with my heart. In fact, my heart looks really healthy, as one would expect from a professional endurance athlete. My heart even got more efficient under stress. The doctor sees no correlation between my heat exhaustion in San Juan and St Croix and what he has diagnosed as “swimming induced pulmonary edema†(SIPE).
According to one study, a questionnaire sent to the USAT membership in 2009, SIPE has been experienced by at least 1.4% of triathletes, and is caused by vasoconstriction around the lungs when entering cold water. This short blog entry, and an article about SIPE on Slowtwitch are much better explanations. There’s also some evidence that heavy sodium loading (overhydrating pre-race) can exacerbate the condition, which it appears was the case with me.
This is the type of diagnosis I wanted (a confident doctor with an acute and hopefully avoidable episode), but as I get back to training I can’t forget the soul searching I did over the last few weeks. I’m in this sport because it’s fun, I love the people I meet and the thrill of testing my physical limits. Triathlon is a wonderful adventure, but it won’t be my last. I wouldn’t bet my life for it.
I have learned a lot about myself this year, and I can use it to improve. SIPE is avoidable, and I just need to find the line between over and under hydrating prior to a race. I’m ready to be a better triathlete.
Battle of the Saints
It has been an educational two weeks. I raced Saint Anthony’s Triathlon in Florida and the Captain Morgan Ironman 70.3 St Croix a week later in the US Virgin Islands. Both races ended poorly, despite a solid silver lining.
For both races the weekend started off well with wonderful homestays. I had all the advantages I needed from a comfort standpoint before the race, and I’m really thankful that there are so many wonderful people that open their homes to athletes like myself.
Saint Anthony’s performance was a series of mistake on my part. I ruined my own race with poor planning and an unfocused mind. I had all kinds of avoidable problems that were entirely my own fault, and at the end of the day I finished 20th – a position with very little correlation to my fitness or ability.
Prior to the Saint Croix 70.3 I tried to free my mind from stress and did everything diligently. I followed the nutrition plan set up for me at the Olympic Training Center, I went through my bike with a magnifying glass to clean it and make sure everything was perfect for Sunday’s race. I bought the most expensive water bottle ever sold because I couldn’t figure out a more economical (and still aero) way of carrying that extra fluid. I was relaxed and I had a seemingly fool proof plan based on recommendations from the staff at the OTC, some new equipment, and lessons learned from San Juan.
Yet even the best laid plans can evaporate in the tropics, and while it happened differently, the result in Saint Croix was the same as San Juan.
The race started off great. The swim was easy and I paced the bike very conservatively. There was debris all over the road from a torrential downpour the night before, but I maneuvered through it pretty painlessly (The P5 did surprisingly well on technical sections). This time I stopped at all the aid stations and got extra bottles. My new Speedfil bottle made it easy to keep most of what I picked up, so I ended up drinking over 100 ounces of fluid (mostly Powerbar’s Ironman Perform) during the bike leg of the race. The bike course was really challenging, but I kept myself at a pace where I never felt taxed. I ate all my gels, and with the drink mix (plus some extra Base Salt that I started with) I got in all the salt from my plan. I finished the bike course in 2:14:50, which I’m told is the fastest it’s been done. Still – and contrary to the opinions of many people who weren’t on my bike – I think I paced it well.
I started the run in a downpour and felt awesome. I told myself to take it easy because I had about nine minutes on Richie Cunningham. I started off running six minute pace with it feeling easy, but decided to back off and make sure I was being conservative.
At the beginning of the second lap the rain stopped and the sun came out in force. This was a replica of the conditions where I’ve had heat trouble in the past. I still had well over a mile lead on Richie, so in fear of what the humidity and heat would do to me I slowed way down. I started walking through aid stations and shoving ice down my suit. I took all the fluids I could get and used every available resource to stay cool. I even ran on the side of the road to take advantage of small pieces of shade. And still my core temp was rising.
By the time I hit mile 10 I was feeling dizzy. I couldn’t shed the heat. Around mile eleven I was having trouble holding a straight line, so tried to cool off under a tree in the grass. Yet I was still getting hotter.
The golf cart that had been following me picked me up and took me to an aid station where they dumped ice and water over me while we waited for an ambulance. They took me to the emergency room, pumped me full of fluids and ran a few tests to make sure my kidneys were okay. My homestay came to meet me there, and shared his story of getting three flats on the course and running out of spare tubes. It was a bad day for both of us.
Richie stayed steady and won the race, and my hat is off to him. He’s done this race more times than any of us and on a day that 8 of 18 pro men failed to finish, he stayed consistent, used his experience, and came through.
Even three days later I’m still reflecting, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I honestly don’t believe that riding slower would help me, and I drank as much fluid as I could have. The first lap of the run could have been slower, but even when I slowed down it didn’t mitigate the heat reaction that boiled my brain. My first thought is that I need physical acclimation to that climate coming from Chicago. With school that’s hard, but my options may be to go early or to not go at all. Others have suggested more calories.
Whatever the solution, I will figure this out.
What this means for the rest of my season is unclear. At this point I had hoped to be qualified for both Hy-Vee and Vegas, but I have zero points for Vegas 70.3 World Champs and Zero for Hy-Vee 5150 Champs. Whether I can still qualify for both without hurting my performance at the Lifetime series is uncertain, so I’ll have to go back to the drawing board and figure out a Plan B.
The silver lining in all this? I got to spend two weekend in beautiful places and meet great people. I may be learning this half ironman thing the hard way, but at least there’s some sunny beaches involved.
Once I figure out this heat prep, all the bike course records I’m breaking will start to count.
Nautica South Beach Triathlon 2013–I won!
This weekend I raced the Nautica South Beach Triathlon for the 5th time, and won for the first time since it became part of the Lifetime Fitness Series. I’d love to write another exciting story about my race like the recap from San Juan a few weeks ago, but when everything goes right the story is much less dramatic.
I love this race, which is why I’ve come back to South Beach every year (except 2010 when I was at a World Cup the same weekend). I love the South Beach vibe (excellent people watching, sunshine and Cuban food!), and the fact that the race raises money for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital ($422,626 this year!). It’s also host to a celebrity relay (Every year I meet somebody cool, this year it was Cyclops from XMen!). Just to get myself into the South Beach mood, I decided to wear my Pink Rudy Project sunglasses for the first time in over a year. The last time I wore my pink Rudy’s was also the last time I won a triathlon, coincidence?
South Beach is also one of the few races that starts before the sun comes over the horizon. In the past the water has been calm, but this year the ocean was churning. The darkness combined with the rough water made the point-to-point swim feel long. (though our times were two minutes faster than last year). I exited near the front and within the first mile of the bike I took the lead.
Miami is home to flat and straight roads, which is a perfect design for setting a PR bike split. Last year the bike course was shortened about 800 meters due to construction and I split 51 minutes 14 seconds. Armed with a much faster bike (the Cervelo P5) my goal was to match that split with the full 40km course. I rode hard, and felt like I used the wind to my advantage on the tailwind and stayed as low as I could with a headwind. I put 3 minutes on the chase pack, but I missed my goal by about 40 seconds, just barely beating the 52 minute mark. Still, my average speed was higher than last year even with stronger winds.
My next goal was to run faster than last year, but at the turnaround it didn’t seem likely. The bike too
k a lot out of my legs and I was having trouble extending my stride. Then I saw Murray and Maloy had closed the gap by half and it was instant fuel. I picked up my pace by 15 seconds a mile for the last three miles and finished in 33:25, about 40 seconds faster than 2012. Aside from being healthier than last year, I have to credit a better choice in shoes for a faster run. Last year I wore the Brooks T3 racer, which is a nice fast flat, but it’s flat sole didn’t mesh well with the wooden boardwalk that makes up 5k of the run. Instead I wore the Brooks Mach 13 (the same shoe Manny wore when he qualified for the US Olympic Team last year). It’s a spikeless cross country flat that grips well on every surface I’ve tried it on.
My final time was 1:46:54, which I believe is a course record, though with the bike course changing a little every year that may not mean anything.
Richard Murray finished 2nd, Joe Maloy was 3rd and Hunter Kemper in 4th. The other notable guys who we normally expect to see near the podium are Cameron Dye – who flatted out at the start of the bike – and Matt Reed – who flatted half way through the bike course. Of those results I think the most impressive was Joe Maloy because outside of some stellar ITU Continental Cup finishes 
he really hasn’t broken through on the domestic racing scene. He’s a beast though, and I’m looking forward to seeing him start to threaten some of the “pillars†(read, “old guysâ€) of triathlon.
This is my first win since Lima last year, and it feels incredible. I had trouble believing it as I ran up to the finish banner, but it seems everything finally came together. I can’t thank my sponsors enough for helping me have days like this. Garmin, Vision, Powerbar, Brooks, Cervelo, Blue Seventy and Rudy Project. Coming to a race with the right gear gives me a ton of confidence so I can focus on things I control.
Next up is St. Anthony’s Triathlon in three weeks. Back to work!
Training Camp
In August I moved away from the Olympic Training Center. I spent three years there, and took a lot of things for granted. This week I’m heading back for my Spring Break, and I intend to appreciate everything – even if the weather ends up being just as cold as Chicago.
Aside from the mountains – and those are a big incentive to go back to Colorado Springs – I’m really excited about drinking terrible coffee (that I don’t have to brew myself), Taco Tuesday (with tacos that I don’t have to make myself), Normatec Boots, the recovery center, a full blood panel to see how my body’s holding up, ice baths (that I don’t have to brew myself), and a 50m pool with 80 degree water where I can finish a workout without shivering (seriously U Chicago, what is up with the 78 degree lap pool? We are not wales!). I’m also looking forward to picking the physiologist’s brains about how I can prepare for San Juan while training through a Chicago winter. Because whatever happened last weekend needs to not happen again – my brain is worth too much to me to bake it!
It’s funny, I’ve only been away from the OTC for half-a-year, and still I’m almost as excited to be back as I was the first time I trained there (way back in the 90’s!). I plan to tell everyone I see that they need to be more appreciative of what they have. Seriously people, they take the trash out for you and vacuum thrice a week! THRICE!!
Going Going Gone–San Juan 70.3
Today was a rough day in a sort of awesome way. I swam well enough, exiting the water in 5th. Then I took the lead and dropped a 1:58:06 56mile bike split on my Cervelo P5 – which I am still having trouble believing. Two things contributed to the bike course being faster than previous years: 1) an abundance of new blacktop on the course, and 2) rain. That second one seems counterintuitive, but a damp road actually has lower rolling resistance than a dry road, and rain will keep athletes cooler – both contributing to faster bike splits all around. Still, 1:58:06 is faster than I thought, and I can only thank Coach Doane for helping me come up with a training plan that works with school and Cervelo for making the fastest bike ever produced.
So I came off the bike with a substantial lead but had been out of water since the last aid station a full 20km from the finish. In that time the sun came out in force and pulled all that moisture off the road and into the air. It was hot! To make matters worse, I was only able to get one tiny dixie cup of water from the first two aid stations and it wasn’t until mile 3 that I finally had a chance to hydrate. At the time I thought, “this could really come back to bite me at the end of this run.†But usually I just tell the logical side of my brain to shove it when it starts in with all that negativity.
I continued to lead the race and I even extended my lead over the first half of the 13.1 mile run. I felt like I was fading a bit starting the second lap, but I saw how much time I had over the field and figured it was my race to lose. The first indication that I might do just that was when one of the elite women passed me on an uphill as if I was standing still. I took a look at my Garmin and saw that I had slowed to a 7 minute mile from the 6 flats I had been holding for the first 7 miles. Still, the guys behind me looked like they were hurting too and I figured I would be fine. Fast forward two more miles.
Coming up on mile 10, I’ve reached the final turn around, I’m now 5km from the finish, but my vision is tunneling. I start walking, but I can’t hold a straight line. My legs start to buckle. To my left is thee wall of Old San Juan, built as a fort, there’s no way out but to keep going. But suddenly I just can’t.
Here’s the part where things get weird.
To my right is the ocean, separated from the path by about 15 meters of large black rocks. The ocean looks so appealing to me that I decide that maybe I should just hop in and cool off for a minute. I start crawling across the rocks, legs wobbling, arms barely able to grip the rocks. About half way that logic part of my brain pipes in, “Ben, this is really stupid, even if you get in, how are you going to get out? Nobody is here to help you.†This time I listen. I turn and crawl back. I walk to the wall and try to squeeze into the inches of shade left, but as the sun gets higher I can see the shadows disappearing. By now I’m no longer leading the race. I start telling people to send help, and about five minutes later a policeman comes down the path to find me half conscious, back against the wall, hyperventilating.
5km to the finish, but I was gone. The sun and I had a battle today, and the sun won.
Congrats to Starykowicz, Billard and O’Donnell for their podium spots. Great racing guys!
For a complete race recap, check out the Slowtwitch article. They do a better job than I would.
Chicago Cold
This past week has been brutal. I just don’t think that growing up in Seattle can prepare one for the feeling of frozen eyeballs one gets trying to ride their bike 3 blocks to the pool at 5:30am. I feel like a wimp saying this, but I’m second guessing the intelligence of enrolling in an MBA program that keeps me frozen all winter long. Why again did I move away from Hawaii?
Last weekend Abby and I went to New York for the Collumbia Swimming Homecoming Weekend. Or rather, I went to New York for homecoming, Abby went home to see her family.
Friday night of homecoming weekend is the Alumni meet. I’m pretty sure the times at the meet have gotten slower every year, while my effort has increased. There’s always a half-dozen or so people from my era at Columbia, and we do the “Iron-Lionâ€, which includes all 10 events on the schedule. Every year I finish the meet glad I do an easy sport like triathlon.
The highlight of the meet was clearly my 4:58 500y freestyle, that drew all the attention away from Columbia Swimming Legend Tony Corbisiero, who joined us to celebrate 30 years since he won NCAAs in the 1650 (in 14:46.29). That time set an American Record (that held for one week) and a Columbia Varsity Record (that still stands).
On Saturday the team kicked Brown’s butt with times that were much faster than I can swim.
Now, back to the grind in Chicago. Homework, training, and taking care of the family (Santa not included).
A little time off
I just found this picture from August of 2005. I think I still have that Ironman Stealth wetsuit (the predecessor to the B70 Helix) at my parent’s house. Loved that suit.
This week has seen a lot of me sitting around gaining weight and loving it. There’s a good chance that in the next day or two I’ll look at myself and decide I look chubby and need to start running more, but for 10 days now I have been enjoying a well deserved off-season. Normally in the off-season I would be doing something awesome, but without mountains to climb or a boat to sail in I’m forced to find urban awesome. Turns out, there’s plenty of urban fun to be had in Chicago, so I’m having a stay-cation here with Abby, Odin and Tesla (and some guests like Abby’s sister last week and my dad this week).
I have to enjoy it while I can. I start training again quite soon, and then in January I’m starting business school at University of Chicago’s Booth School of Business. I’m a bit nervous about how busy I will be, but at the same time I’m excited to have so much going on. I do my best work when my life is busy, and I feel much more content with life when I use all my time productively. That may sound like a wonderful trait, but I would love to be one of those people who can be content to sit on the couch and play video games. Life would be simpler.
How to unpack (and pack) a Cervelo P5 for airline travel
My last three races this year were on my dream bike, the new Cervelo P5. I’ve had a bit of a thing for Cervelo since the P3 came out, and the P5 is enough of an advancement in bike technology to make any cycling nerd’s mouth water. My excitement was warranted too, this bike is stealthy, stiff, comfortable, and sexy. It also has a few more nuts and bolts than an average bike, which require a bit of extra effort for travel.
I raced on this bike within a week of receiving it, at the Dallas US Open. This meant that after riding it twice I had to pack it into a box. Making things more difficult is the type of box I use. It’s a custom semi-hard case that is much smaller than any bike box on the market (without having to carry the wheels separate.) The box is techincally 69 inches if the airline measures it, but I’ve only been charged three times in four years. But on to the assembly of the P5, because that’s why you’re here.
This is my box all packed (this was how I packed it in Florida after Rev3, so it actually shipped like this). Now, after taking apart and putting back together the P5 a few times it only takes me a few minutes longer than my P3 (or any other standard bike without the crazy nose cone and special stem).
The front wheel sits where the cat is. I put the wheels into wheel bags along with plasticore pieces that I cut into circles to protect the spokes.
Here I take the bike out of the box. At home I put in the seat post so I can put the bike into the bike stand. When I’m traveling I just lay everything out on the bed of my hotel room (on a towel) or on the floor if need be.
Here you can see how I used an old Base Amino jar and a skewer to protect the rear dropouts from being crushed inside the box. I also remove the rear derailleur, which requires a little plastic tool to unplug the Di2 cable. Some people will use a bolt with washers and wing nuts to hold the rear drop firm, the reason I like the jar is because it sticks out far enough to protect the derailleur hanger. This is especially important on the P5 (same with the P3) because the hanger is not replaceable, so if you leave it vulnerable it could ruin the whole frame.
These pictures show the head tube and the way I have the bars folded over. This is really the only part of the P5 that differs in packing from any other bike. The issue is that the rear brake’s hydraulic line is trimmed quite precisely, which doesn’t allow the bars to be pulled far from the frame. Normally I would fold over the bars so that the elbow pads are against the frame, but because of the special stem and the way the cable routs through that stem, there’s no way to flip the bars around. Luckily, the Di2 means that the rear hydraulic line is the only cable to deal with, the electric wires for the derailleurs have plenty of slack. Since the cable is so tight, it’s best to place a rag around the head tube before you drape the bars over to avoid scratches. You can also see that I keep the front brake in an old sock so it doesn’t scratch anything.
Basically here I just put the fork into the head tube, the way you would on any other bike. Because the hydraulic line is so short you have to simultaneously put the stem onto the head tube, but that’s no big deal. Just like any other bike, you have a headset on top of the stem and you just tighten it until it’s snug to load the bearings.
Next, you attach the front brake, which – again – is the same process as any other bike setup. So far these are all the same steps I take to put together every other bike I’ve travelled with.
Now, I change brake pads so that I don’t get aluminum shreds from my training wheels scraping up my carbon race wheels. This takes a 2.5mm wrench with a ball tip so you can get to the screws at an off angle. Again, this is nothing unique to the P5, but the position of the rear brake does make it slightly harder to get to the screws that hold the brake pads in place.
This is how you release the brakes. There’s a little clip the has to be pulled back while squeezing the brake, then held as the lever is released. That allows the lever to open wide, releasing the calipers enough to take a wheel off, or put it on.
At this point I put on the wheels. In my bike case the wheels are placed on either side of the frame, which both protects the frame and takes up less space than any other configuration I’ve tried. Since I’m back at home I’m putting on training wheels and putting the race wheels into storage for the winter.
At this point a normal bike would pretty much be done. You would still need to 
tighten the stem and put on pedals, but for the most part the bike would be assembled. And at this point the P5 is probably okay to ride, but there are all the parts that we pay good money for (because they make the bike faster) so we need to put them on.
To the left you see the nose cone (black thing in the middle), the brake fairings (the two parts below the nose cone), and the cap to the integrated stem (square part on top). Then there are four screws for the stem top, three to hold on the nose cone and one that bolts a water bottle cage to the handle bars. The other parts in the picture are the Di2 tool for unplugging the rear derailleur and a Garmin handlebar mount for my Edge cycling computer.
Here are some pictures of the nose cone assembly. I stripped the three screws that came with it so these are phillips head M3x8mm screws that I picked up from ACE Hardware holding on the nose cone. The brake fairing just clips into place without any screws. It took me a couple tries to figure it out the first time, but now it’s quite easy.
I made two short videos to show the fairing assembly and how to stow the cables in order to put on the top cap. The main thing with the stem cap is to make sure the Di2 controls aren’t being pinched in such a way that the button gets pressed. That could be bad. Also, if you’re changing wheels, like I did here, you’ll want to adjust the rear derailleur before you put on the stem cap while you can still get to the Di2 controls. Disassembly is super easy on this part. You just unscrew the screws and make sure to put everything in a baggy so it won’t be lost.
The “hard†part. Which isn’t so hard.
This is how it looks when everything is screwed on.
The last step is to straighten the front wheel and tighten the stem onto the steer tube.
I also put a bottle cage on the handle bars using the screw and hole that are built into the bars.
And there you go. P5, ready to race. In total there were 7 more screws than a normal packing job for my bike case. The cables make it a bit tougher to fold the bars against the frame, but otherwise the bike fits into my case just like my P3 did, and my BH and Beyond before that. To me, it’s totally worth a small amount of extra work for packing, and the hour or so it took to figure out how to do it right the first time. This bike is screamin’ fast – it’s so much fun to ride I added to half-iron distance triathlons to the end of my season instead of calling it a year after Dallas. I love this bike.
Rev3 Florida
Sunday I raced the Rev3 Triathlon in Venice, Florida. It was the last race in this year’s Rev3 series, and the last race of my season. I came in 4th, but the race was pretty exciting, with some swapping of position during the run that led to a very close finish with me and Victor Zyemstev. It was also fun because the swim was cancelled (replaced with a 1.5 mile swim due to bad weather), which made for a race with some different faces in front at the start of the bike.
This was my second half-iron distance race. I swore I was done with that distance after the first one, but when Hurricane Sandy ruined my plans to race in the Bahamas on Sunday, I wanted to find another race. Plus, two weeks after my first half I was remembering the experience much more fondly than I that finish line video from Rev3 Anderson documented.
The first run was short, 1.5 miles where we averaged a bit under 5 minute pace. The run did less to separate the group than a swim would have, and any separation we did have starting the bike was a result of us being funneled through a very tight transition space. I was actually walking out of transition because there wasn’t enough room to run around the people still putting on their helmets.
Onto the bike I caught the leaders pretty fast, but couldn’t quite close the last 5 or 10 seconds to Jesse Thomas. He was just hanging in front of me for a long time, and I thought when Andrew Starykowicz came by me that I could match his pace to catch Jesse, but instead he left me in his dust and Jesse went with him. I was sure I had put a solid lead on the rest of the field, but at mile 40 I heard that I only had about a minute on a pack of six guys. To make matters worse, the flat windy course gave me no chance to get out of the saddle or change my position, and my hips were frozen with pain. The last 15 miles of the ride hurt more than any hills I’ve ever ridden.
Starting the run felt great, I was so happy to be off the bike and no longer fighting the wind that I just took off. My first two miles took eleven minutes, which is about a minute faster than what I did starting the run in Anderson two weeks ago. Behind me the pack was holding steady, but at the first turn around I could tell that the three runners of the group, Victor, Kaleb VanOrt and Kevin Collington were duking it out. My only hope was that their attacks would burn them out before they caught me.
At the end of the first lap Kaleb and Victor passed me with a pace I couldn’t match. I told myself to try to negative split the run, and just try not to let anyone else pass me. At the last turnaround it looked like I had held off the rest of the guys by a good margin, but I could also see Kaleb and Victor starting to come back to me. At mile 11 I passed Kaleb back, and had Victor in my sights. With just a half mile to go I was closing fast but he must have heard me coming. Victor turned to see me behind him, his eyes widened and his pace quickened. I kept closing but as we reached the final meters of the race I ran out of real estate. I crossed the line in 4th, but having emptied the tank. I didn’t have a better race in me. I was smiling as I crossed the line, which is about all you can ask for in the 17th race of the year.
REV3 Florida 2012 Pro Recap from REVOLUTION3 Triathlon on Vimeo.