Grand Columbian Aquabike

Grand Coulee Washington has a very special place in my heart. Every time I go to the area I can feel the power that radiates around this place. There is a natural energy that I feel when I am at the race. There is a dam that generates artificial power, but that is coincidental to the race’s power.

The race is special in my heart for reasons that may not be obvious. Usually special places are results of great experiences. This is not the case for me. I’ve had some tough times at this race. In 2005 and 2008 I would say the race stole my triathlon-soul. It was a traumatic, difficult, testing, and frustrating experience. Finally, after two successful races, albeit at the aquabike distance, I feel like I have my triathlon-soul back. I love this place.

I watched this guy fishing.  I was reminded of a quote by H.D. Thoreau about fishing. [paraphrasing and adjusting for comparison] Fishermen and athletes fish and train their whole life, not knowing it isn't the fish or race they are after.

About 30 miles from Grand Coulee, I start to get energized and excited. Once I start the diabolical descent into the city, I become a motivated, thankful, and super-charged race machine. The race was under new management and they decided to change the venue a little. I stopped at the old venue to take some pictures, have a snack, and enjoy being in town.

I checked into the hotel, had a quick chat with the new owners, who were previously from Montana and very nice, and met up with Kevin a few minutes later. Kevin is a very special friend to me, we have shared some epic races together, I was very thankful he made the trip.  We had some great laughs!

*Best room in Grand Coulee

*Delighted to be here

*TV, snacks, and relaxation

*A race readied Murder Machine

*Kevin and I split this two-pounder for dinner

*All tucked in, funny right?

*Race morning venue 

*Breakfast and the day's fuel

*Transition filling up

*Kevin pondering the hurt to come

I started the swim conservatively, 1.2 miles is a long way to swim. Riding a ridiculously hard 57 miles after the swim is a tough test for anyone. Although the half iron is the big draw, and about 3x as hard as the aquabike, to say the aquabike is “easy” would be grossly untrue. A few swimmers took off like torpedoes and I lost track of what place I was in. The water was very rough, possibly some of the roughest water I have swam in. Canyon Ferry may eclipse the swells. As I tossed in the swells I made my way comfortably through the first mile of the swim.

At this point in the swim a familiar face swam up next to me and I asked myself, “Who is that?” I recognized the face of last year’s half ironman winner, Ben Greenfield. I raced a couple times against him in the past, but it has been a few years. He was doing the half, so we were not competing directly against each other. Despite that fact, we used each other to break through the swells and were able to catch a swimmer just before the exit. I exited the swim in 3rd with Ben right on my feet.

My transition wasn’t amazing; I put on socks, arm sleeves, sunglasses, helmet, race number, and my bike shoes. I left for the bike course is 2nd place in the aquabike, a whopping 3 minutes behind the leader (that guy can swim)! The aquabike and half iron overlap so on the first big climb I caught two people doing the half. On the second climb, the hardest leg busting mile ascent to the heavens, I was able to catch Ben. I had a quick chat about who was ahead and behind. I was surprised he remembered who I was because I haven’t seen him for a few years. Anyway, I told him he had chasers about 30 and 45 seconds back. He told me he thought the lead aquabike was about a mile ahead.

I set course to climb and began to reel in the aquabike leader (fishing analogy). After the two huge climbs, I caught sight of the leader, he was just a distant, white dot on the horizon. I continued to ride comfortably and feel amazing. The climbs were hard, but they did no damage to my legs. Over the next 10 miles I repeatedly took time checks to the leader. He would pass a landmark and I would use my bike computer to time how long it took me to reach that same landmark. The time was continually coming down with each check; 2:43, 2:18, 1:57, 1:41, 1:30, etc.

It took me 14 miles to get within 10 seconds of the leader, I was tracking him like missile-lock. As I sat in second my body raced with the anticipation of the pass. I had ridden smart to catch super swimmer. The fact that it took me 14 miles to catch him assured me he was a good rider also. I waited and calculated my pass. I planned to sit in 2nd until the halfway point, mile 28, and at that point make the pass and never look back. It didn’t work out exactly like I planned.
 

At mile 15 I was tracking the leader, as he reached for his drink bottle something in my mind told me to “go for it.” I accelerated around the leader and put time into him. When he was drinking, he was unable to anticipate the move and lock into my draft. The plan worked perfectly. I rode in the lead, feeling beyond amazing, and zoomed through the halfway point feed zone. I calculated my lead to be about a minute over 2nd place aquabike, and about 45 seconds over Ben.

This course is hard, hilly, windy, and a huge challenge. My specialty distance has bike segments of roughly 20k. This race was almost 92k! It was during this ride that I was reminded of why I use to love long course racing. In a sprint tri, you have one speed, red line. In sprint racing you have one feeling, pain. In long course it is a world apart. The race is long enough that you experience many feelings while your body goes through intervals of feeling great and then later feeling tired. The special thing about long course racing is you go from one emotion to another, you have the ability to bring around a tired body by backing down the pace and being smart with nutrition. You also have the opportunity to blow up an hour down the road if you aren’t diligent with pace and nutrition even when you are feeling awesome. Short course racing is a smash-fest of who is the man [or woman], long course is a puzzle of dozens of things, the person who wins is the person who solves the puzzle.

At about the mile 35 mark my “I feel amazing” attitude started to turn to “ok, I’m feeling it now, this is getting serious.” At mile 45 I was tired and suffering. Long course is not all physical, mental toughness plays a crucial role. At this point I was still in first but my short course muscles were starting to misfire with fatigue. I needed to stay mentally tough to win.

The last 7 miles were a mix of descents and flats, however, the 5 miles leading up to the final 7 miles are hill after hill. My muscles didn’t have the strength they had on the super hills earlier in the day and I began to lose time. I did my best to stay in the moment and manage everything until the final 7 miles. 2nd place had bridged over the last 10 miles and was right on me.
 

After ascending the last big hill, I made my 2nd move of the race by going full power. I was either going to make it to the end of the race, or fatigue out and get passed. Either way, it was going to be interesting. Over the last 7 miles I rode like a wild man, hitting over 43 mph on the final descent. It’s hard to describe that aerobically I wasn’t suffering like I would in a sprint, my muscles were just so fatigued that they wouldn’t press the cranks as hard as my lungs would allow. It was a unique feeling to have an upper body demanding more power, but a lower body that wouldn’t fire. It was cool to have that feeling.

My plan worked, I rode into the finish after 3 hours and 14 minutes of racing. I passed 2nd place at mile 14 on the bike, some two hours ago, yet the winning margin was 38 seconds. That’s mind blowing that after 194 minutes and 58.2 miles of racing, we were right together. I was so thankful to win!

Kevin finished his race, we had some excellent post race snacks, shared some laughs with the other racers, and departed.  I left with a somewhat heavy heart because I miss all the special events 364 days a year, but that 1 day each year I am feeling on top of the world.  What an adventure.

 

*Post race, smiling like a champion 

*Leaving feeling like a champ

*Champions have to do what they have to do, brrrrr

*It all starts and ends here. Fact.

Thank you for reading.



Grand Columbian Preview

Both having completed the Grand Columbian Half Ironman in past years, Kevin and I knew this would be the last time we would be smiling for a few hours.  Operation "Red Wire" was a success. 

Race report to follow.

Lake Stevens Triathlon

A very big thank you to Debbie and Bill for being my support crew at the race.  I appreciate the cheers and the time we spent together.

Arriving and getting set:

The sights:



The action:

 In the Universe there are various laws, laws of physics, laws of gravity, laws of attraction :) , and in my Universe, the laws of sport. The number one law in sport is that there is no such thing as a bad day in triathlon. Every day that is triathlon day is a good day. Even when I backslid into transition 2 after being ejected off my bike, I still wouldn’t consider that a bad day.

After some races I may temporarily think I had a bad day. For example, at the Lake Stevens Triathlon, I had a great swim, but I felt pain and fatigue on the bike. After losing a spot on the bike I started the run suffering like a dog. I lost two more spots on the run and gimped it into the finish in 4th place thinking I had a bad day.

I was rather frustrated with myself over thinking that. After racing three triathlons in 8 days I was hanging on the edge. I am not overly concerned that my bike pace at Lake Stevens was well below my average, I am also not concerned that my 5k pace was almost 40 seconds slower, on a flatter course, than the super hilly course I won on 7 days ago. I was raced-out. Things happen in cycles, you’re only at a fitness level for a short period of time. For the first two races I was riding the crest of the fitness wave and I was hangin’ 10. Lake Stevens Tri brought the trough that always comes after the peak. I tried to prolong the crest to win three but it didn’t happen. Like I said that doesn’t overly concern me. The one thing I don’t want is for readers to get annoyed thinking I am giving it the ol’ poor me campaign.

The one thing weighing heavily on my mind is the fact that I was very disappointed with 4th place. It’s frustrating to me now, that I spent the car ride home trying to reason that 4th place isn’t a disappointment to me. There is a lot to be learned from that feeling. Again, this isn’t the poor me campaign; there are greater tragedies in the world than me not racing as fast as I hoped I would. I am almost hesitant to type race reports when I have mediocre races because I don’t want to come off as a downer. I will finish 10th and still tell everyone good job and be happy for them. I know a guy who after every race something always went wrong, to this date he hasn’t had a good race because something always goes wrong. I despise that attitude. I would give racing if I ever thought I came across, or worse was, like that guy. There is no place for poor me in triathlon. Triathlon = fun only.

I had a math teacher in high school who once told me, “The reason people like sports, is because sports are a lot like life. You can learn a lot about life through playing sports.” I still remember that conversation (and his geometry lessons). It’s a good lesson, things didn’t go totally my way at the race, but I did my best for what I had to work with. In life it’s unrealistic to think that you’ll always finish first, that everything will go perfectly, and everything will always work out like you wanted it. The lesson in sport is to prepare, have a good attitude, and give it your best effort. If you do those things, no matter where you finish, you can be satisfied and feel successful, even if it wasn’t your anticipated outcome. The same is true about life.

“…Sports are a lot like life.”  Thanks for reading.

*Still smiling



Two In a Row!

*Notice the kit accents match the bike accents, that is skill.

After a solid performance on Saturday, I decided to make the long weekend a “double” and race at the Labor Day Triathlon. I had been consistently riding over 100 miles a weekend and staying close to my recovery supplements so I knew I had to fitness to do it. After the race on Saturday, I made sure to rehydrate and take all my Hammer products at the right times.

After ensuring I got the right amount of sleep by going to bed at 8:00 pm, I felt pretty good despite getting thrashed on the hilly run course of the previous race. Doing a “double” isn’t something to take lightly, the chance of injury is high if you are not rested and recovered.

Driving to the race, the sun was out and the views were beautiful. Three miles out from the race the weather turned dark, windy, cold, and even began to rain. What is up with that?

I bundled up and went through the normal routine of getting ready. I texted Kevin to tell him how bad the weather was. He told me that at least I know I can win in those conditions. He had a good point. The worse the conditions, the better I race.

*Too nice, I need a storm.

*Now that is more like it.

Before the swim start I saw my friend Trev, a really fast racer from Team Raise The Bar. I had a quick chat with him; he also was doing the “double.” I jokingly told him he could swim on my feet and gave him a handshake. I knew he would be right with me in the swim.

The swim started and I felt great. My arms didn’t tie up at all like they had on Saturday. Halfway through the swim I felt a foot tap. “That must be Trev,” I thought. I exited the swim and the race director blared through a bullhorn, “First person out.” Even with earplugs in it was loud. I made a quick look and sure enough Trev and two other guys were right in chase.

I made a fantastic transition and left with about a 5 second lead. The first half of the bike course I tried to stay in the aero bars, stay smooth, and don’t look back. I made the bike turnaround and calculated about a 40 second gap to the chase pack.

For the route back to the park I stayed smooth. One of the last corners is a 90 degree left bend that allows for a good view of what’s happening with the chasers. I looked back; to my surprise a guy riding an insanely sweet Ridley with a Zipp Disc was probably 20 feet behind me. I couldn’t see anyone behind him, but I had company. My speed for the bike was 23.8 mph which was great for a huge wimp like me (I may or may not believe that last statement to be completely true).

I hit T2 to some great cheers and made a quick switch to running shoes. The 2nd place guy was right on me. After racing on Saturday, I was unsure how my run legs would be. I took off out of T2 running conservatively fast. I didn’t look back but I used the separation time between cheers to gauge my lead. I estimated it 10 seconds, max.

After running for a half-mile, I did another gap check by using a group of cheering fans. The gap hadn’t changed much, if anything he was closer than 10 seconds. I told myself, “It’s time to go.” I lifted the effort to near maximal sustainable pace and tried to focus. If that guy wanted to win he had to come get it. At the turnaround I was expecting to see 2nd place right with me. To my surprise he was about a minute back and not looking good. I think he may have started too fast or rode his bike too hard chasing. I told him good job as we passed. Coming up on his heels was Trev. I gave him a side-five and said, “He’s cracked, you can get him.”

I backed down the pace a little and continued my way back to the finish. I did my best to return the cheers I received from oncoming racers, and tried to enjoy my last few minutes. I had received some great cheers from the crowd and broke the tape completing the double. What a lucky weekend. I am so thankful for my success and adventures.

*Trev and me at the finish (Don't hate on my shin sleeves, they are medical devices).

*Sweet awards!

*The weather turned around

Since I had accumulated so many cool awards over the weekend, I hired Bill to be my bodyguard.