IM 70.3 NOLA Race Report

SWIM
I was in the second of my age group's two waves, fourth-and-a-half overall. (The physically challenged wave was really small.) I put myself right in front and spoke with another fast swimmer and readied to draft off his feet. But, after the horn, he was gone, and I was alone. I hit the back of the previous wave right away, passing guys with goggles off, floating on their backs, paddling along. Sighting concentrated more on watching out for the guys in front of me than the looking for buoys. However, I did see the one that counted: the red buoy representing halfway. But, it felt like it was a bit long in the course. I don't know if the whole course was long, or if the buoy was just out of place. Nonetheless, I concentrated on keeping my strokes long, and felt my shoulders tiring. Finally, I made the last turn for the finish line and brushed up against a rock on the bottom with my hand. With the few next strokes, I could feel the flap of skin on my finger in the water and knew that I cut myself on who knows what. Once I stood up, I looked at my finger to see it covered in blood. (Check the picture.) Time: 0:28:13 (1:20/100y)

T1
In transition, I made a volunteer find me a band-aid and used the towel from the goody bag to dry it off and clean up the blood. I applied the bandage, got the bike gear on and I was off. Running across a huge parking lot made up a lot of the 3 minutes spent there. But luckily, my rack was near the exit and I didn't have to spend much of it running in my bike shoes. Time: 0:03:25

BIKE
I hopped on the bike and the first thing that I noticed was that everything was moving! Gone was my basement and TV, replaced by fresh air, trees, grass and people. It was great! The new BMC Time Machine TT03 was handling just fine, and I felt very comfortable on it, even though this was my first ride outdoors and only the fifth or sixth time actually on the bike.

The course was relatively simple; an out-and-back course in the basic shape of a Y. Nearly, every turn was a hair-pin, with long straight sections in between. Hills were few and man-made from bridge crossings. The entire course was closed to traffic, and every intersection manned by local police, parish sheriff's deputies, or state patrol officers. Like the rest of New Orleans, the pavement wasn't in the best of shape, with several locations launching rear-mounted bottles out of their cages. I hadn't yet mounted a set of cages on the back, so I didn't have to worry about that, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I didn't have to worry about launching bottles, but a curse because I had only the one bottle cage on the down tube. I planned on using the pockets in the back of my jersey to hold a bottle, but I failed to realize that I was racing in my Evotri jersey, which doesn't have rear pockets. Doh! So I was stuck with having only one bottle available.

On I pedaled, keeping things in the comfort zone. Comfortable that is, until we turned into the wind. Not fun. Once I turned to the east again, the wind was mostly behind us so everything was real fun. The sun was rising higher and with it so was the temperature. I tried to drink as much as possible. And, with only one cage for a bottle, I tried to switch between Gatorade and water per stop, but somehow ended with mostly Gatorade. After a while, my stomach started to grumble over the sugar levels, which would come back to haunt me. Since I came out of the water a touch ahead of teammate Sweet, I took pleasure noting that I wasn't dropping too much time to him. I was able to keep him and the professional females within a reasonable distance of each turn around. The last of which turned us back into the wind. This time for good.

The wind was relentless, speedy bikers that passed me suddenly slowed and stayed within reach. At the last aid station, I needed a Gatorade to finish out the ride with something in my stomach. Unfortunately, the volunteers were yooung & new and as I got to end, shouting "Gatorade!" the kids only held up water. They ran back to the table, but returned with only more water. Guh. No Gatorade for me.

As the sun rose, the wind shifted from the south to the west, meaning that the section where the wind was in our face on the way out still was into the wind, a true test of the psyche. And the gentleman in front of me failed that test. All of a sudden, he stands up on his bike, lets out a primal scream, and starts dropping f-bombs and curses the wind. His trantrum slows him down and he drops back as I offer encouraging words, but those are greeted with more f-bombs. Not a happy camper.

I rolled into transition thankful to be off the bike and to be out of the wind. It required so much focus, I kind of forgot about the 13.1 mile run. Time: 2:40:52 (20.83 mph, 194 ave watts)

T2
I took my time and walked through transition, thinking about what type of effort to put into the run. Based on my swim and bike splits, I could've run hard, pushed my limits and tried to go after a sub five-hour finish. However, the early race, combined with the heat and wind, I probably would've blown up in epic proportions.

RUN
So I started out at what I thought was an easy pace. My watch showed a sub 8-minute miles, which I immediatelt thought was wrong. But, with every glance, it held firm, so I went with it. I saw Sweet early on, and he motioned to me to keep things in reserve. "How could he know I was going out too fast? Damn, he is good." is what I thought to myself. But I kept plucking along, thinking I'm going easy right until that point when you know the rest of the race it is going to be a struggle.

For me, there's always a point when I have to fight through the pain and mentally will myself not to stop and walk. It happened just about 3 miles into the run. With one hairpin turn, the wind stopped and the sun baked down onto black asphalt. It was then I knew (and everyone around me felt it, too) that it was going to be extra hard to get to the finish.

Each mile went by and my pace was slipping. My stomach ached with gas that I couldn't pass. Taking Gatorade or Gu made it worse, and water didn't help either. I suffered with it for a while until I was able to work it through. I then got some water in me, filled my hat up with ice, and pressed on.

Fans were few and far between, and there was no one really around me except for the occasional passing athlete once in a while. Everyone was suffering, no doubt about it. When a physically challenged athlete passed me, I recalled seeing him at the start of the bike course, fixing his flat. Now well into the run, he and his guide passed me back, moving along really well. I congratulated him on his effort and wished him well. And as I'm saying this, he reaches back with his hand, held out over his shoulder for me to slap it. I do, and he wishes me well, reminding me to smile through the pain. "Just smile and it all goes away." I held that quote with me the rest of the way. Every once in a while, I forced a smile, and the pain lifted for a little. But just like holding a smile for a picture, it gets stale and old and you let it go and the pain would return.

As I start to recognize streets of the French Quarter, I can feel my pace quickening. One final turn down Decatur St and suddenly there's thousands of people lining the street. This is what I'm talking about! Energized by the crowd, and pumping them for just a bit more, I get to the finish line and stop. Finally. Time: 1:58:16 (9:01 min/mile)

Overall: 5:13:51 - 54th in age group (M 30-34), 238th male, and 285th overall

POST RACE
Team Evotri rocks. I had so much fun the entire weekend. I enjoyed the trash talk, the potty-mouth talk from surprising sources, and the comeraderie of really great people. The trip and race meant so much more sharing it with everyone. I can't wait for WIBA to do it all over again.

Most of all, a very special thanks to Charlie (Tri-Cajun) and his wife Lisa for the overwhelming welcoming and hosting. From dinner Thursday, to the Interviews and Bourbon St, y'all really made all of us feel like we were at home.

I doubt I'll do another early season race of that length ever again. But, I did sign up for another half later this summer, where I hope to fix two major issues. The first is fluid intake. The lack of bottle cages on the bike really, really hurt me. I'm thinking I need about three times the fluids that I normally take. I do it in training, but rely too much on the aid stations in a race and my performance suffers as a result. The second is long runs off the bike. I need to keep my fitness and get a few bricks in this summer with 40+ mile rides followed directly by 10-mile runs.