Honoulu Tri '13 Race Report

Here we are, my last and final triathlon in Hawaii. Also, the only race I've done three times as a solo. Also, the worst run I've ever had during a race (save maybe 2011's Ko'Olina Sprint). But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I registered for Honolulu ages ago, back when the early registration price was still reasonable. I figured I needed to do it, even if I wasn't trained up. This was before Dirtbag Baby was born, so I didn't yet realize how much my training was about to be impacted. Which was a lot.
I barely trained for this race. Barely barely barely. I hadn't really been in the water. I'd done a few rides over 25 miles, but not much over and not often. I hadn't run further than 3.5 miles since probably the Honu. I was not ready. If you went back and told 2011 me how I was preparing for this race he'd have freaked out. I was training like crazy back then. Not so much.
That meant mentally I was in a completely different place come Sunday morning. I talked about this in my last two race reports- I felt no pressure to perform at all. I was putting no expectations on myself other than finish the race and try to enjoy it. I knew it was going to hurt. I also knew that as far as courses go it is pretty easy. The swim is in a protected lagoon (basically, it's not really a lagoon). The ride is as flat as you can ask for, and not in a typically windy part of the island. The run is even flatter than that, and there is pretty decent shade. I can get through this on minimum training as long as I do it right. The big question was how long would it take for that lack of preparedness to catch up to me? Hopefully not until the run, because if I bonked on the bike I'd be miserable.
Dirtbag Mom was on island to visit with us and (mostly) Dirtbag Baby, so she drove us down to Ala Moana park Sunday morning, dark and early. Tiny human was so good the whole day. It was crazy early for all of us and we weren't sure how he would react to getting up and going in the car like that but he was great. Slept, no fussing, just a good boy.

I was feeling good, found Diesel and The Grey prior to the start, so we got to chat a little. Nice to have friends at the race with you. The Grey was complaining about his Achilles tendon, saying he'd probably have to walk the course so he didn't injure himself before the Honu. And Diesel was at the tail end of a cold that had knocked him on his ass all week. We were a couple of right strong triathletes, us. 
There were technical difficulties before the off, so we didn't get to hear the national anthem or Hawai'i Pono'i, the Hawaii state song, and I thought that was a bummer. I'm not a big fan of nationalistic chest thumping, but those songs start big events. They just do. We did get thirty seconds of silence for Boston, which I liked. And which was almost observed in silence, but not quite. Not quite because, well..ok, let's do this now.
The Honolulu Triathlon has become quite the travel race for Japanese triathletes. More and more visitors come every year to compete with us. Probably because the course is beautiful. Probably because they like coming to Hawaii anyway. Probably because they get some kind of deal- there are entire sections of the race staging area set up specifically for Japanese athletes. And I have no problem with Japanese athletes, I don't. I have a problem with the race becoming geared away from the people who live in Hawaii and towards the people who fly in for the race. This isn't a complaint about having everything translated into Japanese- I don't care. I really don't. America doesn't have a national language and I want everyone to know what's going on. But I no longer feel catered to when it comes to the Honololo Triathlon. I'm not the target athlete, but I'm the one who lives here. I'm the one here doing every other event the race director puts on. So when Japanese athletes do a cheer during the thirty seconds of silence for Boston I'm a little irritated. Don't believe me that the race is becoming more focused on Japanese imports than locals? Here is the race shirt from this year-

See? Look closer.

 Really look at it.

If you've ever ever been somewhere surrounded by tourists from that little island nation you know light blue and pink (PINK!?! ON BLUE?!? WITH YELLOW!?! WTF?) is their jam. It's the ugliest race shirt I have.
Anyway, there are a lot of Japanese racers here. They race differently than American racers do. They bunch. A swim start is always a washing machine mosh pit of bodies, and I like fighting through that and finding open water. But the numbers of guys in my wave made that very difficult. Not to mention (ok, this and one more complaint about Japanese athletes- I hope I don't sound racist because that's not it) they all wore their wetsuits. Now, according to USAT rules the water temperature was a wetsuit legal 77*. Except there was no way the water was that cold. I think the race director fudged the numbers because all those paying customers flew their wetsuits all the way to Hawaii and he didn't want to tell them to take 'em off or be ineligible for medals (not that we got medals, ohh I have so much to complain about I guess. Quick version in this tangent within a tangent- The Race Director, who nobody likes, has decided the event is going green. That means no awards for anyone but the overall winners. If you won your age group he will email you your certificate and personalized picture. Yeah, fucking digital awards for a race you paid nearly $200 to register for. Fuck that guy.). Anyway, wetsuits make crappy swimmers better because they float. That means crappy swimmers get in the way more.
I seeded myself near the front of my wave on the beach, mostly because I didn't want to get stuck behind too many people. Fidget, wiggle, shake, check goggles for the 12th time, wait- GO! The elite wave got a gun. We got a guy yelling at us. Whatever.
And I immediately got converged upon. This mass start was much more full than I remember from the last two years. Maybe because the last two years I was more confident in my swim so I charged harder right away. Either way, lots of bodies dropping to swim right in front of me, then standing back up, then dropping again. In my way. Come on, fellas, get on with it. There was probably 75 yards of this foolishness before we actually were able to get under-weigh.
It took longer than normal to find open water, and I spent quite a lot of the swim out right next to a dude who liked me a bunch. He didn't swim straight, so we kept bumping into each other. There's a difference between drafting and actually sitting on someone's hip, but he didn't know that. We were friends.
I chilled the swim out for the most part, concentrating on keeping a strong, steady, smooth stroke. Not spending too much energy, just get it done. Keep the heart rate under control and swim straight. The turn-around came quicker than I expected and I was feeling good. But I had forgotten about salt water chafing. Oh, the chafing. Right in the armpits it grinds and grinds, making the skin there raw. I normally put some type of Body Glide on my skin to prevent that, but had forgotten because it had been too long since I'd done a long swim. My bad. That stuff hurts, man. I couldn't wait to be done with the swim, not because I was tired but because I was raw.
Hit the beach and cruised to T1. I'm not in a hurry, I will take my time. No stress. Didn't see Wife, Mom, and Baby on my way up the beach  but that didn't mean they weren't there. The Grey and Diesel were in a wave way behind my own, so they hadn't been through transition either. I wondered if I would see them on the bike or not until the run. Expected Diesel on the bike. Changed, trotted out to the line, mounted and got to the going.

Even cruising the swim I was still pretty fast. You can do a lot with good technique, and I do.
The ride was smooth sailing. Because I was slightly slower on my swim than normal I was out on the road with a few more people. Last year and the year before I didn't have any friends for a while. I was out of T1 this year with two or three other guys, who left me in the dust pretty quick.
I had no illusions about how badly under-trained I was for the bike, so I was determined not to go crazy. Got down in aero, tucked in, and found my rhythm. I did pass one or two guys and played leap frog too, but mostly it was pass pass pass the Dirtbag. Still, I felt surprisingly strong out on the road. I knew I didn't have any sudden speed in my legs, there would be no sprinting, but I had a constant strength. Smooth and steady, that's the way to do it. Felt completely different from last year, when I had a great big distance engine. But it would do.
Since I'm all about complaining it seems like, here's another one- Where were the course marshals stopping the drafting and group riding? Our races are non-drafting events, meaning you need x number of bike lengths between you and the guy ahead of you. If you're passing then pass and the person passed has gotta drop back. There shouldn't be a massive peloton. There shouldn't be a line of three guys drafting off each other like they do on training rides. There was so much of that going on. I passed massive groups of riders clumped together. At the risk of sounding whatever, the biggest clumps were the Japanese riders, taking up the entire road and making passing impossible. No race awareness at all. No consideration for the athletes around them. Where was the people zipping around on motorcycles who are supposed to flag and fix that? Totally and completely frustrating.

 The one part of the course that normally gives me trouble, the out-and-back on Lagoon Dr. wasn't a problem. It wasn't any fun either. You see, normally there's a strong tailwind on the out and a strong headwind on the back. I was looking forward to the tailwind. You hit Lagoon around mile 19 and by then I was ready for a little natural boost. Twas not to be. On the plus side, that meant no headwind.
Pulled my feet out of my shoes for my amateur take on the flying squirrel dismount the super-fast guys use and rolled into T2 feeling ok. I knew there was pain ahead. I could feel it in the legs. I took my time in transition, got set, tried to get a but more water in me (thought I'd hydrated well on the bike, but it never hurts and the sun was hotting up).

The last time I looked happy on the run (15 meters in)

 The run fell apart pretty damn quick. I knew two steps in that it was going to be bad. How bad I wasn't sure, but bad.
It was worse.
It occurred to me not long into the 10k that I hadn't run more than 3.5mi since...oh probably the Honu last year. Crap. Swimming is easy. Cycling isn't hard, not on the flats (I'd have died if there were any significant climbs on the ride). But running, for yours truly, that's brutal in the best of situations.
I walked. I walked so much. I bonked like nobodies business. It was the hurt. I hadn't fueled well the morning of the race and I hadn't used my brain and bought some Gu before race day for during the race. What I had done was found a Hammer Gel from last year and stashed it in my back pocket in case I needed it. But I didn't know if those things go bad. What would they do? By mile 3 I didn't care. I needed calories. I took the Hammer. It was kind of gross. Still prefer Gu. I walked all of mile 3, waiting to see what the tummy made of the gel. Would I feel better or feel sick? Better, it turned out. Well enough to trot more than I walked for the last two miles. But I was miserable in the middle there. It was swiftly becoming a hot, windless day. Probably the worst run leg I've ever had. Lots of walking. Lots of fighting the negative. It didn't help that the run course is pretty dumbly laid-out. Lots of loops and turns and double-backs because the race director is too cheap to reserve the park next to Ala Moana as well, so it's a mess.
The Grey met me for the last quarter mile, having finished well ahead of me (and having run most of the race, contrary to what he said he was going to do). Actually, he and Diesel didn't catch me until the run, which was cool. They started with the old guys, waves and waves behind me, but still. We trotted to the finish line together, then he peeled off and I got to do something I've been waiting to do for five months.

The Grey, mocking me into the finish

 I took my son from his mom and held him in my sweaty, stinky, gross arms and ran through the finish.

Pretty much the coolest way to finish a race ever

 When they handed me my finisher medal (plate) I had them put it around the boy's neck. That was a pretty cool moment. Tiny human's first triathlon finish.

After the race the boys, my mom, and Super Awesome Wife hung out in the shade for a while. We rinsed off in the ocean, getting the sweat clear. And we watched the millions of tourist triathletes roam.
Final race thoughts-
Swim- 27:22
T1- 1:50
Bike- 1:15.07
T2- 2:07
Run- 1:18.36
Total- 3:05.20 
My splits, aside from my run, weren't that far off last year's. I didn't get a ton slower by not training like a crazy person. I did lose a lot of the confidence I'd gone into the previous races with. I didn't ever feel strong. I don't like racing like that and I need to fix it.
I am very disappointed in what the Honolulu Triathlon has turned in to. The digital awards, the massive medals, the hideous shirts, the overly fancy number tattoos, the blocked up and over-crowded bike course, the ridiculous run course, the lack of Hawaii Pono'i or the National Anthem, it's just not a fun environment to race in any more. And the parking. For a price you can get cherry parking, something I like taking advantage of. The website said passes were $10. Diesel picked one up for himself and one for me. They charged him $15, said there had been a change. Later we found out they cut the price back down to $10 the next day. I don't know what's up with that, but it smells fishy. No announcements were made about, "Hey, if you over-paid for parking we'd like to refund you your five buck." Just screw you, sucker. I don't think I would do it again next year. Which is too bad, because it's the only Olympic-distance race on the island. I'm not a fan of the Race Director, who's other race is the Ko'Olina Sprint, another poorly organized and over-priced event. I'm sorry this report focused so much on the negative, I don't like to do that and it isn't what this blog is about, but that's the taste that the whole race experience left in my mouth. I'm finally finishing this race report weeks after I crossed the line and I'm still put off by the whole thing. I know it's not just me, at least The Grey and Diesel feel the same.
We are moving to the mainland at the end of this month, where I'm looking forward to new races and new challenges. I want to thank thank thank Background Profiles for their incredible continued support. 

All Things Being Equal

There. As long as we're all clear on where I stand.
Today I got out for a ride. I only went 15 miles but i have a very good reason for that. There was a bulldozer in my way. Yep, as I was preparing to climb Kolekole I got to the base of the road and they were doing construction. There was a bulldozer right smack in the middle of the road. I am not riding around a bulldozer.
It was a decent ride. My Lanikai tri is not going to be fast, that's for sure. I also got a run in Saturday or maybe Sunday, I can't remember now. Three and a half miles, pretty slow and steady. I'm getting out when I can.
Super Awesome Wife and I registered for another relay biathlon that I'm pretty excited about. This one is the Dash and Splash in Kailua on April 28th. Should be fun. I emailed the event organizer and they said strollers are welcome so Dirtbag Baby will also be competing. It'll be his second outside baby event, this weekend we are doing the Looney Lagoon 5mi Fun Run with my dad and his wife. They come out Saturday and the race is Sunday. Funny story about that, I thought it was a 5k. Because when you see a race distance with a 5 in it you automatically fill in k. Who designs a five miles race? That's not a real distance. I sold Dad and Bev on it being a 5k. Whoops. Oh well, should still be fun.
I haven't thanked my sponsor in a while and truly they are the reason I get to sign up for so many of these things. Much thanks goes out to Background Profiles. Much congratulations too on your newest addition to the company. 

Haleiwa Sprint Tri '13 Race Report

Bike Factory Haleiwa Sprint Tri Relay Race Report

Relays are a great way to do triathlons without doing a triathlon. I understand that doesn't make much sense, bear with me. At this point I've done plenty of tris, I know triathlon, and I enjoy triathlon. But sometimes I don't feel like doing an entire race. I want to be a part of the event, but for whatever reason doing the whole thing isn't in the plan. Last time we did a relay, the Lanikai Tri last year, it was because the Grey, Diesel, and I were mid-Honu training and none of us wanted to do a sprint, but a race sounded fun and we figured we could place, which is always nice. For the Haleiwa Tri I didn't feel fit enough to put together a respectable effort for an entire race so I talked the guys into relaying it. Again, we knew we should place. That helps sell the idea.
I swam, Diesel rode, and the Grey ran, like last time, because that is our strongest line-up. I picked up Diesel at 5am race morning, both of us grumbling that I had talked us into getting up that early to race for such a short period of time. He has a twelve mile ride ahead of him. That's less than 30 minutes of work. I had a 500m (they said) swim. That's less than ten minutes of work.
Sometimes triathlon is dumb like that.
We met the Grey there and got set up easily. Check-in and everything went well. I was excited because Carrots, my tri-friend and Super Awesome Wife's knitting buddy, was doing the race too. Seeing friends makes races better.

T1 Set Up

Diesel and The Grey getting ready

It's very early

Carrots and husband

Race start was planned for 6:30, which is kind of dumb because it's still dark at 6:30am. So we probably started at 6:40 or so. Two waves, men first, then women and relays. I wasn't thrilled with having to wait to the second wave. I know how quickly I swim, and I know how slowly a lot of triathletes swim. I'm going to hit the back of the men's pack. Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
I lined up on the beach with the girls pointing as straight on to the first buoy floating 150m offshore as I could. Why swim at and angle? That makes your race further. Why are all you people so far down the beach?
I didn't hear a countdown for the men, just the horn. Fine, whatever, go go go. Once they were away I got my goggles ready and shook out my arms. Next to me on the beach was a very serious looking woman in a pro tri suit. Like name on the stomach and back and everything. Decided to hang by her. If you're going to get beat, get beat by someone who didn't have to buy her own gear.
Thirty seconds...GO!
I had a great start. Killer start. Looking to my sides I think I was the first to the turn. Pro Girl may have beat me, but I didn't see anyone in front of me. Felt stronger than I expect. So fast that I was worried I'd run out of gas before the swim was over. And I might have if it was really 500m. There's now way it was that far. 400m tops. By the second buoy and the turn into the beach I was in the middle of the men's pack, fighting through feet and bodies. Got wide of the group for the sprint in and swam hard. I don't think I was the first of the second wave out of the water, but the transition area was pretty damn full when I got there.
Honestly, the hardest part of the swim was the transition run. Long ass run from the beach, along the park, up to T1. Then chip to Diesel and he was off.

Dirtbag swam hard

Carrots gets her helmet on...

And she's off!

This is the fun part for me. I never get to see transition fill and empty. I never get to cheer on other triathletes as they chug into T1, change, and head back out. It is cool and made me feel like part of the tribe. Then it was out to the street to watch the cyclists on their three laps and talk to Carrot's husband, MamaSaid, who came down for the race (Super Awesome Wife's mom was in town and Dirtbag Baby had a long day the day before so they skipped this event), and another relay team. This race is cool because they have a beach cruiser division. So you've got dudes and dudettes on $5k bikes roaring by then a guy on a rusty cruiser with high bars pedaling away. Triathlon should be fun.
Diesel came ripping in to T2, and I had to call out to The Grey, who got distracted talking to someone and had to rush into transition to get the chip.

Diesel goes zooooom

Coming in at the end of Lap 3

Diesel and The Grey in for the switch

Grab the chip!

And he's away!

 The run course was a tough out and back along the beach. So it was sand and trail out, then on the beach back. No one really likes this run course. Thanks Grey! He had a great time.

Here he comes!

And across the line!

 Once he was across the line we hung out for a while, talking, snacking, and being friendly. Diesel and MamaSaid left to hike and the Grey and I checked out the results postings only to discover that we weren't listed. What the hell? The Grey and I bothered the timing guy until he gave us an answer- The chip time for the bike said 18 minutes, which is impossible. Which means he thought Diesel only did two laps. Which means he disqualified us! What. The. Hell. The Grey argued and I grumbled until he looked at the swim time and run time and the final time and realized that what his chip was telling him didn't make any sense. So yeah, the Grey bullied the timer into giving us our time back. Second place! Woo! We got a nice tile, leading to many jokes about doing this race until we can refinish a bathroom. We are hilarious.

Team Dirtbag!

Carrots is a tough triathlete

Tough guys with second place tiles

 Another race with good swag, we got nice long sleeve shirts, a sticker, and a bag. They tried to give me a trucker hat instead of the bag and I shot that right down. Who wants a trucker hat? That's what the race people get for giving me a choice. I'll take the choice. 
I love being around events like this and relays are a great way to play without too much pressure.
Final Splits
Swim- 5:49 (hell yeah, but that means there us no way it was 500m)
T1- 2:16 (long ass run)
Bike- 33:37 (blazing!)
T2- 00:37
Run- 26:24 (not bad for a bruised up old man hehe)
Final Time- 1:08:42

Swag- long sleeve, sticker, bag

Mean to Myself

(Yesterday)
Ride
dist- approx. 16.5 mi
time- approx 1hr

(Today)
Swim
1 x 200- warm-up
10 x 100- 1:30
1 x 100- cool down

Knee rehab

Today in the pool I was mean to myself. And that was a good thing.
You see, dear readers, when I'm not totally feeling it I leave myself an out. I say to myself, "Listen, I promise to push these on the time standard. But if I miss one I get thirty seconds on the wall to rest and recover before getting back to it." That's a good deal.
Except I don't like missing my time standard and I'm a stubborn ass in the water. So for the 10 x 100 set I made the first few easily then started to slip, my poor training habits catching up with me. I was getting less than five seconds rest by number five and less than two seconds for eight, nine, and ten. Yeah, I'd hit the wall, look at my watch, it would read 12:28 and I would get a breath then hit it again. I spent these 100s thinking it would be so easy to fade juuuust a little. Just enough, Then I'd had thirty whole wonderful seconds to catch my breath. But it had to happen organically. I wasn't going to let myself miss. And I never did. Made all ten on the 1:30, getting barely any rest for the last three or four.
Swims like this are frustrating because I know I can do better but make me happy because I fought through a mentally tough workout, and I can draw on that the next time I get in the water without feeling it.
Been getting back out on the bike too. Knee gives some twinges still, right on the inside, but it's lessening. Hopefully the rehab is doing its job and I'm getting stronger. Haven't tried to run yet, but I was talking to a friend today who is thinking about doing a marathon soon and I started to get the itch. I got the itch to run. Triathlon has made me broken.

Holy Headwind, Batman

Ride
time- 4:56
distance- 63.5mi

Yeah, this was pretty much the slowest metric century I've ever ridden. My excuse is that I've been lazy recently. And wind.
The Grey and I met up at his house and off we went. This adds some distance to the route I used to ride back when we lived in Wahiawa, but it means I get to see how The Grey and Diesel, who is training for Kona and is doing waaay bigger mileage than we are right now, got to me every week.
Kinda hilly. Sucks a little. I could see sucking more in my future as we come back.
I let training mileage slip for a variety of reasons after the Honu, but now I'm registered for the Honolulu Century at the end of next month and damn if I'm going to go into that totally unprepared. So cycling needs to come back up to three days a week, with big days on weekends. Real detailed century training plan. I know.
Anyway, we headed straight up the coast to Pupukea, one of the best-worst climbs I regularly do. It's not as long as some on the island, but there are sections of a lot of suck. Makes you strong. Especially because now we come back down and keep heading out. Gotta stack miles into the legs.
Out to the north-most point and around is an adventure in Holy Crap It's Windy. The Grey and I took turns pulling. There isn't a nicer sight than the guy you are riding with pulling around you to let you draft for a while. Tough winds. Looked forward to the turn-around.
Partially from the winds, partially from being out of shape, but I was bonking pretty good for a lot of the ride back. Just dragging. I kept trying to get it going, and it would for a while, but I never was able to hold what I felt was an acceptable pace. Looking at the data we were hovering around 45mph out and up around 18+ with the wind to our backs, but I was tired. We took more rest stops than we normally do. At least Hawaii is a great place for a breather.

I knew before we got to it that Pineapple was going to suck. And I was right. There is something about that climb. You can pace it all kinds of ways once your in shape, but when it's the first time in a while there is a lot of Happy Place Just Get Up It happening. The Grey blew me away going up and I didn't care. Couldn't have ridden much faster. Took another break in the shade of a bus stop at the top.
From there it isn't far home, but there is one climb that, while short, isn't much fun. Got it did, got to the Grey's house, and Second Favorite (Hawaii) Wife had food ready for us because she is awesome. Diesel showed up too because he smelled food.
Looking forward to getting distance-strong for the century. Not much feels better than 100 Mile Confidence on the bike.

I Had a Clever Name...

Bike (Sunday)
time- 2:39
distance- 37.78mi

Swim (Monday)
1 x 200- Warm-up
5 x 200- 100- 1, 2, 3, Swim/ 100- 5, 7, 9
2 x 300- Odd 50s Easy/ Even 50s Hard
1 x 100- Cool down

I came up with a clever name for this post Sunday during the ride. But I forgot it. Maybe that is for the best because who knows how clever I actually am when I'm tired and hot. Don't answer that.
Sunday's ride mark the beginning of this year's Honolulu Century training. I did the ride alone last year and this year the Grey has decided to ride it with me. Last year's Century training was actually when I met Diesel, though like this year he wasn't training for it. He's got Kona in his sights and, as such, he doesn't need to pay to ride one hundred miles. He's probably doing it that weekend anyway.
The Grey and I though, we like paying for rides. And at $70 right now that's less than a dollar a mile. Not bad since the ride is so well supported. I also signed up because I need something to look towards. I missed all kinds of cheap registration dates because Super Awesome Wife and I were looking to move at the end of the summer, but it doesn't look like that is going to happen. Drop dead date for that is September, so maybe, but I'm not holding my breath. But I missed any version of cheap registration for the Ko'Olina tri, which is now at $110! Holy crap. I know I practically spent that much the last two years, but not this time. Not worth it for an annoying swim, mediocre at best bike course, and pretty run. I missed the Tradewinds tri this last weekend. And I don't think they will let me in to the Na Wahine. So there are no triathlons on the horizon from now until December. And in December my training and racing funds/schedule get thrown out the window in favor of a much larger adventure. I'll still be trying to do both of those things, but who knows how Dirtbag Fetus is going to change what I'm able and willing to do.
Anyway, Sunday was a short but decent ride. The Grey and I have been starting down at the airfield since Ewa isn't a great place to start and Mililani means we have to go over a few of the narrow bridges, which are never fun with impatient drivers passing us. We hit Pupukea and that was fun fun fun. Harder than I remember. Every time for the first couple times that'll be the case. We stopped at Waimea to chat with Diesel and MamaSaid, who were taking a dip in the crystal clear water. Seriously, clearest that bay has looked in a long time. Really pretty. But I didn't feel like getting in so it was only a stop, but not a swim.
I also made faces at a line of school buses full of children, because that's what I do. Faces like this:

I'm a growed -up teecher

This morning I swam. I didn't get up as early as I wanted, so I hit a small slow down on the way to the pool, so I didn't have quite as much time as I wanted. There should have been at least one more 300 in there.
I forgot how much that 5, 7, 9 set hurts when you aren't ready for it. It hurts a lot. Which is good, because I need to build up the pain tolerance. Stroke technique is only as good as the distance you can hold it and right now mine is kind of rubbish. I'm noticing a lot of waggle in my hand at the entry/start of stroke, which means I'm wasting time going laterally before starting my pull. My core weakens too quickly as the sets go on, dropping my middle and creating drag. As always, I'm not finishing as consistently as I ought to be. I need to get stronger again and fine-tune those little mistakes. It'll come. The front end of training after a break is always frustrating. But the hard sections of the 300 are getting faster while still maintaining proper stroke. And I'm still running on Olympic visions so every wall I see Phelps kicking ass with his dolphin kicks. Work that wall. Good swim discipline even if there are no walls in triathlon.

To The Top

Ride
time- 1:33
distance- 19.13mi

You know what is good? Getting back into the groove. Getting back to working out every day at least once a day. Releasing endorphins, burning calories, earning dinner, hurting good. There are a lot of things making me grumpy right now but being able to get out there and sweat is helping.
I looked at the name of the road I'm climbing out of Kapolei but I keep forgetting it. Whatever it is, it hurts. There feels like a ton of up in not much distance, and there are some steep damn portions. I think even if I was trained up much of the climb would still be granny gear worthy.
Last time I did the climb I turned around at the top of the main road. Today I noticed that if I went left there was more climbing to be done. So I went left. Probably not a whole lot more elevation gained (I miss uploading information so much!), but it was pretty steep. First time on the ride I got up out the saddle to put more power through the pedals. Felt good to get all the way to the dead end at the tippy top.
Back down is ripping fast. There was one point where I needed to make a right because I couldn't scrub enough speed before the yellow to stop safely at the red, just enough to turn safely. I think that if I do this too regularly I might set my brakes on fire.
Which would be cool.
Until it wasn't.

FYOOSH!!!

I still love the Olympics. I have lots of thoughts on swimming. Here they are super-quick:
I'm having so much fun watching all of this. So far four world records have fallen in the pool. Guess those suits weren't having as much of an impact as they thought. Phelps is amazing, imagine if he had been really focused for the last four years. Missy Franklin is a water goddess. The 100 free is a start, turn, and finish. This means it's only slightly impressive. The 200 breast is better than the 100 breast because the strokes are longer, smoother, and prettier. The Americans have had the best turns in every race I've watched. Massive glides, massive dolphin kicks off the wall. I love it every time Missy Franklin cries in the pool, then cries again on the medal stand.

Honu Race Report Part III: The 70.3 Racening- Part II: The Bike and Run

Stay positive and keep moving forward.

-Dirtbag's Rule of Endurance

(For the Pre-Race and Swim portion click here)

I don't like opening on a negative, but the only complaint I had about the entire Honu experience that I think might have been controllable by the race director was how we got out of T1. There was a run from the bay to T1 which went up a decently steep hill. Then T1 happened in a parking lot. Then, to get from the parking lot to the road which leads to the Queen K highway, where we would be spending much of our time for the next few hours, we had to climb again. Like, immediately. And not kind of climb. It was a steep damn climb as soon as we hit the mount line. Not a long climb, but if you hadn't set your bike up in the right gearing you were kind of screwed. How bad was it? I got push started by a volunteer. And it wasn't a, "Oh, I see you're struggling, let me give you a hand." They were ready to help. Because clipping in while going from a dead stop to up isn't easy. So my complaint is that I bet there is a better way to start the bike. Small kine complaint, though.
As I hope I made clear in the last post, I felt solid after the swim. Paced it well, walked through transition, didn't feel any fatigue getting on to the bike. And once I got past that first little bump in the road I got to cranking. If I had to guess I would say that I probably spent the majority of the early part of the ride in too light a gear. I could have been pushing harder without losing cadence. In my defense, I didn't know what was coming, I didn't want to blow my legs out.
To my surprise, and his, I caught Diesel in the first five miles of riding. I was surprised because I never catch Diesel. He was surprised because I should have beaten him out of the water. Comparing splits later, he beat me by around twenty seconds. I accept that. *grumble* When I saw him I though he was having mechanical issues because he was pulled over and stopped. Then when he started he seemed distracted and slow. I pulled alongside to ask if he was ok and it turned out he was grabbing a small snack, which is why he was going slow, and his bike had felt funky, which is why he stopped. I actually was ahead of him for a good five, maybe ten seconds. That's right, I led Diesel during a 70.3!
Until he finished his snack and disappeared. Damnit.
The ride course went down towards the Fairmont Orchid, where we would eventually be getting off our bikes and running, and then made a U-turn all the way up Hawi, the climb I'd see every time I tackled Pineapple in training. The Queen K is not a flat road. It rolls with the landscape. To start, this was great for me. None of the rollers were long or steep enough to give me trouble and spirits were high.
Then HE blew by me. Remember the U-turn? That meant we got to see everyone ahead of us on the course for the first of two times. So I got to watch all the pros go flying by. And in the lead? Mr. Larmstrong himself. Of course. 

Mr. Larmstrong on course Honu 2012- from slowtwitch.com

I have been trying for days to think of a way to describe what it felt like to see him ride in the flesh. I've seen some powerful things in person. I've seen Albert Puljos hammer a home run. I've seen HHH pick up another man and throw him across the ring. I've seen jet fighters fly right by me at air shows. But I don't know if I've ever seen anything that gave me such an immediate feeling of, "Holy crap! Look at the power!" that I got from the two times he passed by me. The closest would be seeing a jet fly right over my head. It's there, then it's gone. His famous cadence, holding 100rpms at least, is a blur live. Seeing it on YouTube isn't the same. What is?
But I couldn't just let him go. As he flew by I turned to the lady currently passing me and shouted, "Hey! It was that one guy! What's his name?" She didn't laugh.
I ate once an hour on the bike, which meant three times over the course. And only tried to make myself throw up once. I had broken the Clif Bars up into easy pieces pre-race, but in my hurry to get one out and get back down on the hoods, I didn't want to get blown off the road, I crammed a whole bite into my mouth at once. Bjork! Lesson learned.
I continued to feel strong at the turn and back through most of the rollers, though here is where I ran into two minor mechanical problems one after another. My chain fell off the front rings. Twice! I was shifting from the big ring to the smaller one and, because my gearset isn't the fanciest on the block, it dropped right off. I think it's because I was in the wrong place on the cassette (the back group of rings). Easy, quick fixes. Stay positive, don't think about it. This is a race, but not really.
This was the first race where I discovered how we got water on the bike. Volunteers stand on the side of the road holding open water bottles. We zip by, reach out, grab one, I dump it into my quick fill aerobottle, pour the cool wonderfulness over my head, then toss the bottle as far to the roadside as I can. Check it out:

It was right before Hawi that I decided on anther Dirtbag Rule For 70.3 Racing- Dirtbag Don't Pedal Downhill. There were guys cranking down, and I simply tucked in, put my pedals parallel to the ground, and coasted, keeping up with some of them. "Hey guys, check out what I discovered! I'll call it 'Dirtbag's Theory of Downhill Pulling Force'. Or 'gravity' for short." Right before Hawi was also where I saw another person I knew. Obi Tri Kenobi, he who lent me his bike for my first tri two years ago, passed me after 12 miles. I like him, but dude needs to get his stroke together. No way I should swim that much ahead of him. When he does, he's going to be even more dangerous. And I can say that because he finished a day and a half ahead of me.

I must say, I was worried about Hawi. When Super Awesome Wife and I drove it in March it seemed really steep and long. Especially the opening miles. This helped motivate. And once I got on the road I was really confused. I felt so good on those opening climbs. I was bouncing up them, making passes, and feeling strong. Was this what I was worried about?
I can see that I've neglected to mention what would be the most important part of the ride. The Wind. So let me say this; Oh dear sweet science, it was freaking windy. Climbing Hawi you have wind whipping down at you, so you're climbing into a headwind, and wind whipping down the side of the mountain on your right, so you've got a cross wind. On the way up, the headwind was brutal.
Eventually the rolling steepness stopped. We would climb, then descend, then climb more, then descend. Yay for coasting downhill! But then it stopped and the grind began. This is where Hawi brought the pain. Steep climbs almost aren't that bad. You can see the top. But long shallow climbs are awful. Soon I just wanted it it end. I wasn't sure how far I had to go until the turn-around, but I would have killed a basket full of hobos just to have known. Stay Postive became Once We Make the Turn, It's Downhill. That thought got me the rest of the way up Hawi. Big U-turn and down we go!
Oh my. It was beautiful. If you had asked me in the next five miles what the greatest thing in the history of ever was I would have told you, "Downhill. Downhill is the greatest thing in the history of ever." And it was. Then the cut-outs started. The cross-winds were worst when the side of the mountain dipped away, leaving nothing to block the wind coming down it. Oh yeah, did I mention it was raining at the top of Hawi too? So wicked bad crosswinds on rain-slicked roads while you're trying to race downhill. Weeeeeee!
You could tell when a cross was going to hit you because the line of cyclists ahead would suddenly jerk to the left and then lean at what seemed like 45* angles the other way. A dude next to me got blasted so hard one of his feet came unclipped. I heard that some of the smaller girls, and therefore more susceptible to getting pushed around, we being treated like kites. It was kind of scary-to-really scary depending on who you ask. Including the pros. These quotes make me feel tougher:

“I had to stop to put water in my water bottle at the aid stations,” Ironman World Champion and Kona veteran Laura Sophiea said. ”I’ve done over 300 races and this was by far the toughest conditions I’ve ever experienced.”
“I’ve never raced in conditions like this … With this wind there were points where you were running on the spot,” said runner-up finisher, Australia’s Greg Bennett. “It was, without a doubt, the most brutal thing I’ve ever done.”

The second time I got to see the blur that was Lance was while I was going up and he was coming down, and Diesel too, who shouted, "DIRTBAG!" as he went by. That did help me get the next few miles done. And when the pro in second place, Greg Bennett I think, went by, I shouted, "Go get him!" Not sure he heard me. Things like this help the miles go. But my mile 40 I was done and just wanted to get off the bike. The winds had been so tough coming down that I was having to pedal downhill to maintain speed. Which made me mad at the wind. And there was a mile long climb coming out of the harbor that sucked as hard as any climb I've ever done. Diesel told me once that riding is fun but at the end you just want them to, "take this evil torture device away." That's where I was come mile 40. You know it hurts when you just want to be able to get off the bike so you can run a half marathon. But that was the thought that got me through the end of the ride. We went from Get Me To The Turn-to- Get Me To The Run. 

Palm trees mark the right turn into the Fairmont Orchard and the small group around me cheered when we saw them. At some point during this Matt, of Tri Cook, passed me and we had a nice short chat, and one of Kepa's friends did too. And that ride into T2 was as windy as any other part. Almost felt bad because the last mile was a no passing zone, and I'm sure the one or two guys behind me would have passed. Tough luck, boys. What did surprise me about the ride was the Grey never caught me. He climbs better than I do and I was sure he would have. That will change.

Bike Split- 3:19.46

T2 went smoothly. My spot was way in the back so I had a long run, but I'd taken my feet out of my shoes without unclipping, my one fancy tri-trick, so the barefoot jog/walk through transition wasn't bad. And having Super Awesome Wife waiting and cheering helped too. There was a bank of Port-a-Potties right before T2's exit and, because I'd been hydrating ok I took a quick pee. (Not all of us can go while riding, MamaSaid.) Kinda dark, so I knew I needed to be drinking more. And then I'm off on the run.

Always Dirtbag Tough

And we're off!

Here was my run plan: run when I could, walk every aid station and uphill, don't stop moving forward. That is all.

The run was almost comforting because I knew I could walk. I had no ego invested in the half marathon. I didn't know how my foot was going to hold up (there had been twinging coming out of the water, so I was nervous about it, but it was actually fine the whole time), I hadn't run regularly in three weeks, it was a big mystery.

Aid stations on the run were long and went Water, Perform (the IM-brand of sport drink), Food, Coke, Water, Sponge. And I loved them. There were 12 on course, one just about every mile, so each time I hit one I'd slow to a walk and grab, at least, water, water, ice, sponge. The sponges were soaked in the ice water and felt soooooo good to cram into my tri top. Ice got dumped on my head, in my top, and even into my shorts. Anything to stay cool.

We all thought the heat would be killer on the run because it normally is. There isn't much shade on a golf course. But it was still windy, so we traded hot and still for running into headwinds and, trust me, this is a good deal. It was on the run course that I got back to Stay Postive and Keep Moving Forward. There was never a time that I wanted to stop completely, and never a time when I questioned my sanity or hated life, but I certainly didn't enjoy the run. Who does? I tried lots of tricks for staying positive, including asking the people I was running near (read: who were passing me) if they knew how far back Lance was. "Hey, you know how far behind us Armstrong is? That guy was totally drafting off me." Most people laughed and played along. Was nice to see friends on the course. I also kept telling the aid station people, a lot of whom were very positive kids, "Oh, you are my favorite. I told the kid with ice a mile ago he was my favorite, but I totally lied. You are my favorite!" I said it really fast. It's not like I was cruising through.

Many people didn't like the grass sections. I loved them.

Stay positive. Stay positive. Look good for picture. Stay positive.

Yep. Totally walking here. They caught me. Still tough though.

 At some point early on during one of the many out-and-backs on the run course I finally spotted the Grey. He and Diesel had expected the Grey to be able to catch Diesel on the run, but he'd struggled more on the bike than expected. So when I saw him going out while I was coming back I started shouting at him, "Come get me, old man! Come get me!" (Dirtbag Racing Note: Shouting in the middle of a 70.3's half marathon will make your head hurt.) He did eventually, but it took longer than we expected. And he raped me when he caught me. Well, ok, here's the thing- earlier in the weekend I may have snuck up on him in an ice cream shop and given him a massive hug from behind when he wasn't expecting it. I may also have gently cupped his pectoral muscle when I did so. So I maaaaay have deserved to get jumped on from behind when he passed me on the run. Laughing helps the run go by. And after he went by I reached out an smacked him on the ass, "You are so sexy when you run by me!" A course volunteer on a bicycle near us nearly crashed laughing. 

I made a friend about mile seven who pulled up next to me and said, "I've been chasing you for seven miles." He was cool and I'm not making fun, but he was a big dude. Heavier. He said it was his first triathlon ever. Well, I walked with him for about half a mile, that middle section is the hardest mentally, and we chatted a little, but there was no way I was hanging out with him the rest of the run. I didn't have much ego or competitive fire, but I had some. Thanks for the motivation. 

There isn't much more to say about the run. There was an out-and-back called The Road To Nowhere right at the end that sucked worse than the rest of the run put together. Looking at the run course, it's easy to see what part I mean. It is so long that there is an aid station halfway down, but you don't know its halfway down if you've never been on it before. So you think, "Oh good, this isn't that far." That thought is followed quickly by, "Oh...damnit." 

Headwind going down means tailwind coming back though, and once you're done with the Death March (Diesel's name for it), you're practically done. One more aid station, past the 12 mile marker, where Obi Tri was standing and cheering us on, and the finish line is close enough to taste. "I am not walking any part of the last mile," I decided. I hadn't looked at my watch for elapsed time the entire race, it does no good midway through the bike to see, "Oh, three and a half hours. Only three hours to go." But now I was looking. I knew I should be able to come in under seven hours. I wanted 6:45, but walked too much for it. I did the math and decided to see how far under seven I could finish. I didn't sprint to the finish, that last mile was longer than just about any mile I've ever run. I barely had any kick to my stride. Once, my toes had gotten sore and I knew that if I cracked it, something you can do in funny toe shoes, it would stop hurting. So I stopped and bent over to crack it my my hamstrings went, "Woah! You don't want to be bending over right now! We will cramp and fail if you do." So there was no more of that. It was IronShuffle in. I could see the finish, hear the crowd getting louder, there were more people on course now, finishers already done standing by cheering, spectators, volunteers. I could hear the announcer calling out the names of those in front of me as they crossed the line. I just needed to get there.

Stride- IronShuffle

Down the chute

AND ACROSS THE LINE!

Run Split- 2:53.37

Finish Time- 6:56.24 
 
For Race Report Part IV- The Reflection click here