Best of the US 2009 -- Mission Viejo, CA

Here's my blog about the BOUS National Championship 2009 at the Orange County International Triathlon, in Mission Viejo, CA.




















Well, after all the anticipation, planning, training, special care taken, and everything else that went into getting myself (and family) to the start line of the Best of the US Championship triathlon in Mission Viejo, CA, things didn’t go quite as well as I had hoped. The trip was fun and the race experience there is always special, but my performance wasn’t up to my expectations. It’s not that I could have done a whole lot about it that day, but sometimes things just don’t work out the way you hope.

The course there is super cool, and really tough. The swim is in a very, VERY nice lake in Mission Viejo. It’s a private lake with a perfectly manicured beach, park, etc., etc. It was perfectly surveyed with laser precision, so we were told, thus the distance was supposedly a perfect 1,500 meters. It felt long to me, but more about that later!

The bike course heads out into a canyon in the foothills to the northwest of Mission Viejo – Santiago Canyon. It is a popular route, and with good reason. There is a perfect bike lane the entire way out with signs telling motorists to keep off the lane to keep it clear for cyclists. It did have a little debris here and there, but it was mostly quite clean. Terry Moore, the female NM representative from Las Cruces fell victim to something in the lane and got a flat.

The run course was really awesome, with a lot of changing topography and changes of direction. I thought it was a hard 10km to finish off a race, but some of the run times begged to differ. We re-entered the lake park and finished along the beach right along the waterfront. It was a great course, all-in-all. The only thing I didn’t like was that there were two different transition locations. T-1 and T-2 were separated by about 3 miles or so, thus making for a small logistical challenge the day before, and morning of the race…no big deal though because the organizers had good information to direct racers.

The “regular” race had about 1,000 people, plus the extra 100 spots for the BOUS athletes. That’s a pretty good sized race, and it had sold out. It made for a very festive atmosphere at this typical sunny southern California location.

Leading up to the race, things seemed to be pointing toward me having a good chance at a top-10 result. I had seemingly gotten over my mid-summer sinus/respiratory infection that had forced me to skip both Socorro and Los Alamos triathlons. I had worked my fitness back up slowly and had gotten in more miles on the bike than last year, but my swimming had suffered due to the sinus thing and I didn’t seem to have my best run speed. I worked on both once I could sustain the harder efforts, but I always had to watch it when I felt tired or congested. I didn’t want to have a recurrence of the infection.

I signed up for the F-1 triathlon in Roswell, the Tenderfoot triathlon in Salida, CO, and the Patriot Tri in Rio Rancho as three good lead-up races to blow out the pipes and practice the things I needed to have down to be competitive for the BOUS. They were saying that the swim would not be wetsuit legal, so I got one of those speed skin suits as a sponsorship deal and used it in the Tenderfoot tri. They’re weird things, for sure.

Travel is a huge challenge now, with all of the stuff to bring for Mila in addition to all of the tri gear. We did alright, but it is not easy: bike, race wheels, tri gear, car seat, toys, extra extra clothes, etc. etc. Logistics with travel is also tough, and this was made even more challenging by the coordination of visiting family in Los Angeles (two different households), then me taking off solo to Mission Viejo, then meeting back up a day later…… You get the point. But, that seemed to go fairly smoothly and I was not overly stressed prior to the race.

Only a couple of things were nagging at me: the fact that my head and chest had started to get congested again the week prior to the race. I couldn’t understand why, other than I don’t think I ever bucked that nasty infection 100%. Small vestiges of it came and went like the tides during the month previous, and the week before the weather took a nosedive and that seemed to exacerbate things right when I needed to be making some hard speed efforts to fine tune things for the race. I would rest up well, go do my hard speed training, then feel a massive influx of congestion and a really stuffy head. I also got a really badly wrenched neck from doing just little stuff around the house. I could barely turn my head after that. But, the training was still good and I even felt my run speed coming on just in time (I ran the Splash ‘n Dash / LA Tri 5km run course as a “brick” in sub-18 time the Sunday prior to the race, after doing bike intervals), so I was feeling confident.

Getting on the plane and doing all of the travel stuff must have sent my system a little over the edge, despite all of the incessant hand washing and taking Cold-Eeze, Emergenc-C, and Echinacea. I got into LA with a deep cough and somewhat clogged sinuses, and my neck was still stiff and sore. But I still didn’t feel bad, so I remained in good spirits headed toward the race. I was also having fun hanging out with Dina’s family in Los Angeles, who are SO happy to see Mila. That provided a good distraction to pre-race stress.

After driving all the way through the LA metro area to Mission Viejo, then getting out and seeing the bike, part of the run, and then finally the swim course, we had all of the pre-race hub-bub with the BOUS organization and the different racers from each of the states. There were some big names there, some of whom I recognized, but many of whom I have no earthly idea who they are. Jerry MacNeil listed all of their results, which sounded impressive. I knew this would be tough but also that if I had a good day, I would be competitive.

Dina, her sister Liza, her mom Olga, and Mila all stayed in one room, while I got an entire room to myself the night before the race…they insisted and I can’t say how grateful I am. I slept really solidly the night before and felt quite rested the morning of the race. I got out there early, but amazingly, I was already way back in line to get to the venue. That stressed me out a little, as I knew I had to get the race wheels on and get everything set at this busy venue before I was ready. The only problem I had was getting air into my tires using a borrowed pump (I need to get a better travel pump).

I got in a decent warm-up in the water; not great but good enough. Soon, we were lining up in our special “Wave-0” and getting all of the special treatment and announcements. It was all eyes on our wave as the 1000 other racers and families watched us “super triathletes” take off.

I opted to take the second row going into the water, as I knew I would just get trounced with these swimmers (men and women BOUS went all together). It was a good call. I got onto some feet, got hit and kicked for over 500 meters, then started having some breathing problems with the chest congestion. I was holding onto a group, barely, but I wasn’t about to let go. I tried coughing it out and would lose ground, but then redouble the effort to catch back on. It got to be a little too much by about the half-way point and I had to let go and try to clear my chest. For a couple of minutes I just mellowed out and concentrated on the coughing. I then pushed on solo the whole way back. I could see some people ahead of me, but I knew I had lost a LOT of time at that point. It’s amazing! I still would have had a relatively fast swim around here, but with that group, forget about it. I struggled in with a 22:02…not fast in that group. I had hoped for a 20-something or low 21.

I finally made it into T-1 and noticed all of the BOUS bikes that were all gone. I was with a couple of guys and got the heck out of there with a little bit of a slow transition, but not too bad. On the bike, I instantly started passing the stragglers from the swim, then some of the faster swimmers, then some of the faster females – I could tell how the swim went and how the women’s race was playing out. I also noticed that I had instantly caught a handful of guys, but that they were now few and far between…not a good sign. I wasn’t going super great on the bike. I was still coughing and trying to find my legs on the early long climbs of the course. I just didn’t hit it hard enough early to make up the ground I lost. It was becoming more apparent that this was not going to be a remarkable day. I also had a splitting headache for some reason; I think it was the tightness in my neck and upper back putting strain on my head and the aero helmet was not helping matters. It was really annoying and something I hadn’t experienced before.

Way out in the canyon near the "turnaround" where we detoured off the main road onto a strange bumpy road that is normally closed to any sort of traffic, I caught yet one last female…she was so far into the men’s field and had been so far ahead of me, I was just amazed. It occurred to me that if I didn’t ride and run fast, she might finish with me or beat me!

I pushed a lot harder once I was back out on the main canyon road. The hills were steeper on the way back in, so I had some clear goals and dug deep…at least for what I had to give. I think I salvaged a bad ride with those efforts on the way back in and managed to have the 8th fastest ride for all racers on the day. It was a 59:27 and I had hoped for and reasonably expected at least a low 58.

I had no idea how my body was going to react to the run, since I was clearly struggling a little. I was fearful of a 40-something minutes 10km on this really tough course. It was getting quite hot and with all of the landscape watering going on, it was also humid at ground level.

After another rough-around-the-edges transition, I was off on the run and feeling surprisingly OK, but again with headache and congestion. I ignored both and just focused on moving forward as swiftly as possible. I was completely alone for over a mile, then I heard the dreaded footsteps of the last guy I had caught out on the bike – turns out it was Jonathan Krichev from Alabama. He’s a very good triathlete from the deep Southeast (former University of Alabama swimmer), but someone I have beaten before and someone I can usually outrun, but not today. He was moving along just a little quicker than I could muster, so I stopped blowing my nose long enough to let him get by me. I tried briefly to stick with him, but decided against continuing because I have blown up every time I’ve done that at early stages of a run leg. I was on my own again and getting the feeling that I was not really part of the race.

It was like that for quite a while until we hit some really nasty hills at mile 3. I could see Krichev and a couple of others ahead, but what looked like WAY ahead. I tried to get through the hills strongly, but the heat and humidity was sapping me and I just didn’t have the punch to do what I wanted. I focused well and kept my feet moving quickly, but I knew it wasn’t 100%.

It’s tough when you know you’re having an off day, but all the training and struggle you go through to get there keeps you pushing. I had to rethink things a little bit out there and decided I would really try to catch at least one guy ahead. I caught a fleeting glimpse of who I recognized as the Arizona guy, Cam Hill. He’s also a great swimmer and it seems that every year, no matter how we’re both doing, I catch him in the finale of the run. I made that my main goal for the day and set about picking it up as best I could, no matter how much snot I got on myself or how much I was coughing. I set my sights on him and just ran faster, period.

The run course was really crazy between miles 2.5 and 5, but at the 5-mile point, we dumped out of the steep hills and twisty turns of the parks, out onto a parkway, where we did a final out-and-back on a final long hill and were all able to see where we stood relative to the other racers just around us. I wondered if this was all of them, or if there were more already that far ahead of me that I didn’t even see them on this long out-and-back section.

Turns out it was to be the latter. I was further down than I had hoped at that moment, but I didn’t know that yet and my main goal was to catch Cam Hill of Arizona. At the bottom of the hill, he was still quite a distance ahead, but I was gaining steam and gave it 110% up the hill. I felt myself redlining and actually feeling better as I went up. I should have been able to hit that level and hold it much sooner in the race, but this was the only time I felt like I was able to go full-gas all day. I went into the zone and honed in on him until we entered the park. Until I was on his heels, I didn’t think I was going to catch him. Once I was right on him, he heard me and glanced back and I sensed he gave up the ghost to stay ahead of me. Around the corner leading to the home stretch along the waterfront, he slowed and I took the opportunity to keep my momentum and surged all the way to the line – I put 9 seconds on him in that short distance. It was at least a fun finish to what was otherwise a lackluster day. My run ended up being 38:49 on a tough course, but I had really expected a 36-something and really had ambitions for a 35-something.

I was happy it was done and all of the wondering how I would do and worry over my sinus/congestion situation was over. But, I was disappointed in the result. I wanted a top-10, not really for anything to add to my “career” or anything like that, but to put New Mexico in there. I think we do alright with the sport, but it’s hard to come up with the big result when you don’t travel to the big races very much. That takes time and patience, as well as experience and a bit of luck. It seems the less I travel, the worse I do once I do actually go on a trip to a race. I’m so tired of traveling away to races, though, so I doubt I’m going to do a whole lot better than that in the future. I think I’ll pass on it next year. It’s been a fun experiment for me, though. I went four times and grabbed 8th place in 2007. I felt like I struggled badly that day too, but ended up with a stellar run that moved me into the top-10 in only the last couple of kilometers, passing who else, but Cam Hill and Jonathan Krichev.

In the end, I managed to squeak out a 2:02:38, good for 17th place among the BOUS racers (20th overall including the "regular" Orange County Triathlon participants). I had hoped for a 1:58 or so and feel like I had that in me without the problems (read "excuses" =). Still, with the BOUS athletes there, there were 22 men who beat the old age-group course record, and 21 women beat the old female a-g course record. Matter of fact, the first female was only a few seconds off of the previous male course record!!! That goes to show you how tough that field is! (FYI, one of the women beat me by over 2 minutes on the run) So there is some consolation in the result...I just can't get over the fact that the first place guy did it in 1:52:50. That's SIX minutes faster than the pro/elite course record!


Thanks to all of you Triatomics folks for the well-wishes. It's always fun to race with all of you. I also need to REALLY, REALLY thank Dina for her support and efforts in keeping me out there. Any success I have now is due more to her than anything else in the equation! We'll both be out there again next year!

Ironman Canada-30 Aug 2009

It was not the best of days, nor was it the worst of days at Ironman Canada. It was a civilised day. My overall time was significantly slower than my first IM in Florida on November 1, 2009. I expected that would be the case because the course is much more challenging, but overall, I am proud of completing my second Ironman and especially because I did not let myself become overconfident in approaching this event. In Florida, I had already heard those words, "Fred Winter, you are an Ironman!" In fact those words are not even spoken at the finish line in Canada.

Penticton, British Columbia, the site of now 27 annual Ironman events, is a true jewel and should be on anyone's short list for a visit if not for a triathlon. The setting is not unlike the Napa Valley with over 100 wineries growing grapes on rolling hillsides nestled among three natural lakes and towering mountains. Being on the eastern side of the Cascade mountains, it is the northern end of the Sonoran desert climatic zone; and the low humidity, vegetation, and sunshine remind me of my home in Northern New Mexico, however, the altitude here is only about 2,000 feet compared to 7,000 feet at home.

The Swim-Goal: 1:25 Actual:1:18
Cruising
Race morning started out with perfectly clear skies and temperatures in the high 60's. The transition area is situated at a park adjacent to the sixty mile long Okanagan Lake. I had been warned to expect cold water, but frankly it was not an issue for me. In fact, it could not have been better at 68 degrees. The swim course is a long, stretched out triangle with the start at a narrow corner of the lake. I had talked to a couple of people at the kick-off dinner, who confirmed my decision to place myself at the left side away from the direct line up the buoys from the right side. One person said that it was perfectly acceptable to start from the left side and aim for the first turn, which was marked by a tall sailboat. That way, I could avoid the straight out course and the crowd. That was an incorrect assumption as a lot of other people had figured this out, too. Historically, the swim course turns have been marked by two, two-story houseboats, but the announcer said that someone did not show up that morning with their boat so there was only one house boat at the second turn.

After the singing of "Oh Canada" by a promising local opera singer, the starting horn sounded, and everyone was off in the water. The depth of the water was shallower than I had planned even after swimming in the lake for two prior mornings. My first dive and swim start was thwarted by people still walking in front of me. I stood up and walked with them and dove a second time to restart the swim. There were a lot of people swarming around me at first and then following the words of Paula Newby Fraser, who counseled us at a breakfast meeting, I "found my place." As usual, people piled up at the two major turns on the course. The final return to the swim finish was really enjoyable, and I felt like I had really found my place as I was cruising until it came time to start thinking about the exit ahead. Then it became quite frothy with people squeezing into the narrow exit and whacking each other. "My place" became much more confined. Anyway, I kept swimming as long as I could despite seeing other people standing around me. This was good, as I exited the swim in virtually the same time as I had done at IM FL, where virtually everyone had cheated by not rounding a buoy on the start of a second loop. I much preferred this one loop course despite the narrow exit.

I have learned that I can now sense my overall position by the number of people in the changing tents. When it is really crowded and chaotic in the changing tent, then I know I am up with the faster people. This only seems to be the case, however, at T-1 for me. For IM CA, I was bound and determined not to chew up time at T-1 as I had at IM FL.

I wore a one-piece tri-suit under my wet suit and continued to wear it under my bike jersey. I brought arm warmers thinking that I might need them as I had done in FL, but decided they were not at all necessary. In retrospect, I might have done without my jersey as the dry heat was much more comfortable than at IM FL, but the bike jersey was my friend as I wanted to be with more food and bike supplies than I ultimately needed. I knew all too well that I can never be too prepared for the unexpected during the IM day. At FL, I had stripped the screws holding my bike cleats to my shoes, which lead to lost time. I was bound not to let that happen again and carried an extra set of cleats.

Biking-Goal:7:45 Actual 7:38
Pushing
Now, I headed out on the bike course, which I knew would be my most challenging leg of the event. The course is so much more hilly and mountainous than pancake-flat Florida. In Florida, you head out on roads surrounded by pine forests. In Canada, you are riding first in the town of Penticton, then beside lakes, and rolling hills covered with orchards and vineyard. Then before long, I was focusing on the formidable mountains. As I headed into Osoyoos, the southernmost leg of the bike course, I could see to my right the tall rise of Richter Pass, which was parallel to my entry into Osoyoos. In all of my studying of the bike course, I had focused on Yellow Lake pass as being the most challenging. I have to say that Richter was an equal challenge to Yellow Lake as it has a false flat that leads you on to another and yet another summit. Despite the rigors of the ascent, there were people lining the roadside-lots of people cheering all of us onto the summit. While there are over 4,000 official volunteers for the event, there were more than enough people left over for crowd support. This turnout was unexpected and a delight to keep me pushing ahead.

Once Richter was behind me, I descended into a less populated valley that was filled with rollers. Another cyclist asked me if one of these rollers was the third mountain pass, thanks to my homework, I knew to tell him, "No, far from it." I wish that I had been that certain when I actually thought I was summiting Yellow Pass. Beyond the rollers is the out and back stretch near Cawton. While this was mostly flat, it seemed never ending. At the end of the out and back, approximately 75 miles into the course, is the special needs bike stop. I was happy to have my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I sure did not need two of them. I also did not need my two extra tire tubes and CO2 cartridges. There was that overabundance of caution again. I bid good-bye to these surplus supplies and headed off.

In July, I had had a horrendous series of flat tires that had sapped my mechanical confidence. After following George Gage's suggestion, I replaced my rim seals and all was good, no more flats in New Mexico. Through the services of Tri-Bike Transport, my bike arrived in Penticton sporting the same tires and tubes from Taos. I debated about practicing tire replacement in Canada, but decided to leave well enough alone. My tires and tubes had only about 145 miles on them before the start of the race. As it turned out, I did not need any of the two tubes in by saddle bag, let alone those two in my special needs bag. I would not have wanted any less for the race as I saw many cyclists with flats on the roadside. One story that made me cringe was that in prior years, perverse people had put tacks out on the road looking to prey on unsuspecting bike tires. One rider did tell me that she had flatted on a staple, which sounds like an equally sorry variation of the tack attack.

I was starting to fatigue by the time I made it to the special needs bag pick-up, and my food stop was welcome despite its overabundance. I now realize that I spent way too much time eating compared to the others around me, but I was reinvigorated and ready to tackle Yellow Lake. There was not any significant headwind on the ascent. In not too much time, I thought I was near the summit and a road leading to the Apex ski area. Soon, I saw my wife, Marcia, on the roadside cheering me on along with many other people. I was about to cry with joy on the thought of summiting the dreaded Yellow Lake, when a rider behind me said, "The worst is yet to come." Indeed, I was not there yet so I pushed on for another 1.5 miles to the real summit.

That false sense of summiting was probably the most difficult point in the race for me. I had been obsessing about Yellow Lake for weeks. I was taunting myself with questions about why am I doing yet another Iron distance event within twelve months of the first? Wasn't I already an Ironman? Why didn't I learn from doing my second marathon in less than three months after completing my first run? That event had turned into a slower and painful experience with an injured IT band. Why am I making myself crazed with all of this training? And now I am not at the top of Yellow Lake either!

OK, I had to dig down and make it to the true summit with Yellow Lake nearby. I had driven to this summit on Thursday as I wanted to experience the descent into Penticton before the race. The elevation map for the course had me living in fear of a descent similar to Holman Hill near Taos. I am a not one who is fearless in a descent, and Holman Hill has had me paralyzed from vertigo. After Thursday afternoon's ride back into Penticton, I was looking forward to this final leg. It would be fun and fast. The road was wider than Holman Hill. There was no guardrail falsely protecting me from tumbling off the side of the road. This descent would be a cake walk. Well, Sunday was not Thursday, and the headwind/crosswind was fierce by the time of my descent. I could not pick-up speed. I was not going to make my goal time for the bike. Overconfidence had reared its ugly head again, plus my right quad was cramping on me. For several minutes, I thought what if I can't run? Could I walk the distance and make the midnight cut-off? That was the beginning of some bad negative self-talk.


The Run-Goal: 5:15 Actual:6:11
Plodding + Lackadaisical
Once back into town, I made it to the transition area, and the T-2 changing tent was much more quiet than T-1. I knew that I was back further than I had hoped to be. I saw someone from Kansas City that I had met earlier in the week. He was complaining to someone else about his bike time and said that he was going to head off with his Ironman shuffle. That was probably the wrong thing for me to hear. In retrospect, I needed to be around someone who was going to inspire me to push me harder on the run. The run course leaves the transition area and loops back into the town along the lakeshore before heading south. At that point, I overheard someone tell a runner that he should expect to run a six hour marathon. The lackadaisical Fred took over then during the run, and I do not particularly like him, but I did meet up with some interesting and slower people.

France Cokan is 78 years young, and I hope to have his confidence and vigor when I am that age. At the third aid station situated near Skaha Lake, he came up to me thinking that he knew me. After talking a while, he realized that I was not who he thought, but I wanted to know more about him. How did he have the confidence to be wearing only Speedos and a tank top at his age? Perhaps it is only fitting to become larger than life at his age. He had been introduced at the Friday night dinner as the oldest male participant and the next oldest participant to Sister Madonna Buder, who is 79. I realized that I was uniquely positioned to ask him about his training secrets. Right there at the aid station, in front of a startled volunteer, he demonstrated one of those secrets as he pulled open his Speedos and dumped a cup of ice in his junk drawer. He let me know that it invigorated him as there are big blood vessels down there. He then ran off ahead of me, but only for a while. I kept on plodding along and caught up with him. He probably came up with race/walking before Jeff Galloway. His pattern of bursting ahead and walking finally slowed down to the point that I did not see him on the return leg of the run.

Thankfully by then, I was ahead of the oldest man on the course, but it was getting dark at night as I headed back into Penticton. What was a pleasant downhill coming into the turnaround in Okanagan Falls turned into a significant hill on the way back. At the special needs bag, I once again realized that I had erred on the side of too much food and too much concern about a cold run back into town. I definitely benefitted from a long sleeve shirt in the second half of the run at IM FL, but here in Penticton, that same shirt became a distraction. I could not leave that shirt behind as it had also seen me to the finish line at the New York City Marathon. It was part of me and some great experiences so I tied it to my waist and headed towards town and the finish line in the dark. While IM FL used diesel generators to power flood lights, the course in Penticton had none. There were the occasional cars driving the road and the aid stations to divert my attention from my plodding way, but not enough to help spur a faster pace. If my nemesises, the Three Swimming Amazons, had been there running, I might have found the inspiration to pick it up, but they were back in Taos waiting for another day of swimming-at which they excel.

I made it to the street lights and commercial area of Penticton at about 10:00 PM knowing that I would be at the finish line well in advance of midnight. The crowds grew, but not quite as robust as I had expected, especially after a runner asked me if I had been here before. When I said that this was my first IM Canada, he said, "You will not believe the crowds in town." It wasn't until I left Main Street and headed for the Lakeshore Drive loop that the crowds increased in number and in volume. By that time, I had seen Marcia once again. Fortunately, I knew that she was no where near the actual finish line this time. I turned onto Lakeshore Drive and finally kicked into overdrive. The lights, the music and the crowds were all there motivating everyone. I think that the bike rider from Kansas City at T-2 was the person in front of me. I wanted to pick him off, but he had the same idea of pushing ahead. Then the finish line was behind me. As I approached the finish area, I had been able to deduce that the announcer was not saying, "You are an Ironman." No Hollywood moment? Nope, in Canada, I have come to learn, they seem much more civilised than in the US. You can't even order a medium rare hamburger. It is against the law. But despite the lack of theatrics, there was a true sense of interest in each and every participant. Each runner has a designated greeter to accompany you from the finish line. My greeter was Ron from Edmonton, who was about my age and could not have been nicer. While he made it known that he was volunteering to gain an entry slot in next years event, he spent more than ten minutes with me escorting me to have a final picture taken, to have some food, and to show me where the Ironmates (your wife, family or friends) were waiting for your arrival.

Canada is different than the US. I am not quite sure how to explain it. The people do not seem as in your face as home. While they seem all too civilised, they have an innate desire to stretch and push themselves, which is a quality of life that I admire. The IM Canada course and the community of Penticton certainly exemplify these qualities. Now the question is, can I bring these qualities back home?