First off, I again wanted to thank all those who've donated to help me fight Multiple Sclerosis and find the cure. Together we're just under $3k! Unbelievable. Spread the word, contribute if you can (even $1 helps!), and follow the adventure. Thank you.
This post comes a bit out of order in the Ironman ingredient list. Recently I raced at the Pacific Crest Long Course triathlon outside of Bend, OR, and found myself staring this particular ingredient hard in the face. As a result, it seems appropriate to discuss it now. I know this post is exceptionally long, and I apologize. This post serves both as lesson and race report. IF you just want the lesson - skip to the end. Hopefully you'll be intrigued enough to read the rest!
A week out of this race (my top non-Ironman race for the year), I looked forward to digging into the race scene again after having a pretty good showing a couple weeks earlier at the Blue Lake Olympic triathlon outside of Portland. Poor swim, but then solid bike and fastest non-relay run of the day. Good stuff. Given that I'm training for long-course, I was eager to test my legs as that race suggested that my legs hadn't gotten the message that they had generally neglected speed work for short course. I set my expectations fairly high, thinking that top 5 (in the prize money) was easily doable, and top 2 or 3 was in reach. Maybe I'd even hit the jackpot and take home $1k as I did at the Stumptown Half in 2011. I was excited... tired, but excited.
Tuesday before the race, I made the mistake of eating those leftovers that tasted fine, but were of questionable age - I wouldn't feed them to my son, but I was okay chomping them down (all veggie). within 3hrs I was not feeling chipper anymore, and after almost exactly 6 hours, my son got to see what I'd had for lunch hours earlier in the bathroom. Lovely. Fever set in, appetite bottomed out, and my hydrations status was, shall we say, less than ideal. The next day, I weighed in 5 pounds lighter than the previous day. I managed to get a single bowl of soup in me (across a few hours), and a few glasses of electrolyte drink. Really not ideal taper week nutritional preparation. I finally got a bit of an appetite back the following evening, though my stomach seemed to have shrunk in half.
Thursday brought improvement - I no longer felt like I'd been run over by a truck. I guess that's improvement. Mini-meals the rest of the day, and serious questioning of the race. If my son wasn't signed up (and super excited) for his first triathlon (the Splash, Pedal, Dash), I would likely have bailed. But Friday I was feeling substantially better, eating like a horse, and my mental status had re-shifted to thinking top 5 might still be in reach. So we packed up, and headed south. Watching (running alongside) my son, Mattias, doing his first ever triathlon was inspirational, thrilling, and exciting. To describe me as "Proud Papa" would be a massive understatment.
Race morning - I've made my oatmeal and coffee. Sitting down to eat, and after about 1/3rd of the bowl, I just push it back. I could eat no more. Expectations falling again. I'm disliking this roller coaster ride. I ask my wife if I should even start - I'd put that as the equivalent of a male stopping and asking directions. Fortunately (unfortunately?) my bike is already up at transition - miles away from the finish line - and I've purchased a ticket on the bus to take me to T1. So off I go. "Can you make it a workout?" my wife asks. I've already started to shift my expectations and goals to that end.
Once I finally reach the lake's edge, though, amongst all the other racers, I'm again feeling motivated. "At least go through the motions, Chris - you never know what might happen. Mabye low expectations will yield a breakthrough!" Chatting up with fellow racer Craig Dean, I get the scoop on who's who. Looks like there are about 5 guys who could all be in the same time-range, yours truely included. Maybe I could pull it off? The roller coaster continues...
BANG!
Out through the swim (my general nemisis), and I'm out fairly well, though left a bit of breakfast in the lake (sorry Craig!) - something else that's never happened to me before. Over 20 years of triathlons - this is a lot of firsts for one race! Out on the bike, things are going well though I'm having trouble getting calories in. "You can fake your way through a half" I hear myself saying. "Not if you want prize money" comes the reply. Back to the workout mentality - make this a go-to day for tough races.
Finishing the bike, I later find out I'm sitting in 3rd place. Ordinarily this would make at least 3rd a matter of just having a decent run. Unfortunately, I'm less than a mile in when I see my family, and I'm going fully a minute/mile slower than expected given the heart rate (HR) and effort I'm putting out. 4 miles later, I've stopped to try and get rid of stomach cramps. HR falling, effort climbing (sure sign of caloric need).
Just then I'm David Garcia comes by me and we exchange woes. I mention that I'm not sure finishing is really a good idea. "Finishing is always a good idea" he replies. The perfect words at the needed moment. Pace and HR continue to fall, effort continues to climb. I have never concentrated so hard to go so slow. I'm now 2min/mile slower for what feels like a full-on maximal run effort, and have 3 miles to go.
Thoughts of my son come to mind. "He didn't walk during his race - you can keep running." Gotta keep running (my racing mantra). Chugga chugga choo choo! The mantra I've arrived at thinking of my son. It keeps me going one dreadful foot in front of the next.
One goes through a short tunnel with about 1/3rd of a mile to the finish. The crowd begins to thicken there. Chugga chugga. As the crowd thickens and the finishline approaches, I'm doing everything I can not to break down into tears. I have no idea where these came from, but they are unstoppable. I find a quiet corner in the recovery area and they just burst out. Uncontrollable rolls of tears and sobbing.
Until that moment, I had not realized what I had done, or how hard it had been. I've gotten very good at not giving up - not quitting. I thank my wife for that - she has taught me a lot in that arena. But I've never been glycogen depleted like that and continued to push through. Another first. One that has taken me weeks to get over. I do not wish to go there again. I did not enjoy much of that race, and seriously detested much of it.
My fantastic coach - Karen Smyers - points out that the depletion and pushing just breaks the barriers normally up to the public down, and I can understand that. But the roller coaster of expectations, built up, dashed, and ultimately smashed (I finished 17th) shattered my mental strength.
And hence the lesson of the day (hopefully you're still reading!): set your expectations well. Realize that expectations and goals form different aspects of going into a race. Wanting to achieve a thing, and expecting to achieve a thing are different. When goals become expectations, or expectations fail to realign with reality (such as fully accepting the effects of food poisoning). As I said - over 20yrs of racing, and I'm still learning things.
In the end, that's a good thing, if a frustrating one at times.
Next up - not sure. Probably the Best in the West half-iron in early September, but regardless, still Kona bound!
Good training, and good night!
