Honu Race Report Part V: Dirtbag vs The Olympian

Greg Bennett into T1

 (*Note: This is the fifth and final Part of my Honu Race Report. Parts of this might come off as interviewy, but it was never an interview, just informal hanging out. I take full credit for misquotes or mistakes. And, because by now you should know how I write, there is some going on and on and on about certain things. There may also be fawning and name-dropping. You would too.*)

Let's say, as a for instance, that on Saturday you woke up at 3:30am and by that afternoon you had completed your first Half Ironman. What would you want to do the next day? Sleep in, right? Me too. Except a few nights before the race I got an email from Ironman Honu which read:

Swim and Breakfast with Olympic Triathlete Greg Bennett, June 3rd 7:30 a.m. Post Race recovery swim in Pauoa Bay fronting The Fairmont Orchid, Hawai`i Resort. Meet at the Beach Shack at 7:15 a.m. Swim is followed by an athlete-only buffet breakfast at the Orchid Court Restaurant for a discounted, all-inclusive price of $25 per person. Space is limited to the first 30 participants. Please see the sign-up sheet at Ironman 70.3 Hawai`i Registration.

Hmmm, I thought. That sounds neat. But that is going to fill up quick. I bet by the time we get there the 30 spaces will be gone.  And then I put it in the back of my mind and got back to packing and repacking and then unpacking to be sure everything I'd packed was still in my bag.
When we got to registration Thursday there was a big sign:

Again, I was sure it would already be full. How could it not be? A chance to meet and Olympian? Swim with him? Pick his brain over eggs and bacon?  Everyone will want in! Wouldn't you? But a Dirtbag tries to never pass up an opportunity so I wandered over to check-in and checked out the sign-up. Only 16 people on the list so far! Dirtbag scores! I quickly wrote my name down before 14 people realized what they were missing and knocked me out of the way.
Which brings us to Sunday morning, bright and early. I stand in a surprisingly small group of only a half dozen men sharing stories from yesterday's adventure. The main topic of conversation? "So, how about that wind, huh?" The second topic? "Did you see Lance ride? Holy crap." I know who were there for someone else, but the Lance Effect is huge and cannot be denied. I did joke to someone next to me, "Hey, Greg came in second yesterday. Don't say the L-word."
Triathlon is a small sport, and most people don't really know who the Big Names are, except for That Guy everyone knows from his adventures in France. Greg Bennett is a pretty big name in the triathlon world. Not Iron-distance, this was only his third half, but from the shorter international distances. He and his wife, Laura, are "two of the most talented and successful short-course triathletes in history, with 30 World Cup podiums between them." That quote is linked to and comes directly from the Inside Triathlon article which introduced me to the Bennetts, Being Bennett.

At just about 7:30 Mr. Bennett walked over to our group. No fanfare, no camera crew, no PR people, just a guy. The guy who took second place 24 hours ago. Triathlon is so cool. Imagine going to a football game and Tom Brady walking up to you and starting a conversation about how your game went yesterday. You can't, right? Another reason triathlon is better than football.
And what was the first direct question someone asked Greg? "So, what do you think about Lance?"
Dude! Dude! Dude. No. Not cool. Why would you do that? We can get to Lance, but do you think the guy really wants to stand here and talk to us about the guy who beat him yesterday?
Turns out, he didn't mind. In fact, Bennett (I'm going to go back and forth between calling him Greg and Bennett. We did eat breakfast together, but I'm not so sure we're on a first name basis. I have tweeted him though. God, I can't believe I just said "tweeted"...) was more than happy to talk quite a bit about Lance and the Lance Effect. He had nothing but good things to say. He mentioned how hard it would be for him to concentrate with camera crews following him around like they do Lance, and seemed happy about the attention Lance is bringing to the sport. For example, NBC is talking about showing the Kona Ironman World Championship live this year. That would be huge. It normally gets a taped two-hour showing in December, two months after the race has been run. Lance Effect! The closest he came to saying anything negative was sharing a conversation he'd had race morning with Chris Lieto, a fellow pro. "It's great that Lance is here," I paraphrase, "but he doesn't need the prize money if he wins. We do!"
After chatting on the beach for a few minutes Greg suggested we get in the water to swim. "So, do you fellas want to just do a short swim, do you want me to make up some kind of work out?" Bennett, by the way, is Australian, so please imagine all quotes in a fantastic Aussie accent.
"Just swim." It was fast and unanimous.
We swam for only maybe fifteen minutes, and I will admit to spying on Bennett's stroke, trying to steal anything I could. Not long after we started the wind kicked up, the water got a little choppy, and Greg decided it was time for all of us to head in. One or two guys had swum a little ways away from the group. "I'll get them," he said. And poof, gone. I love it when fast people suddenly drop into a gear I don't have. It is so neat to watch. I swam over a turtle on the way back. Open water swimming, people. And, because I'm not at all competitive against people who don't know that we are racing, lengthened my stroke. To stretch, you see, not to be sure I was ahead of most everyone. Though I did beat Greg back to the beach. I'm not claiming I finished a swim ahead of an Olympian, because we totally weren't racing as far as he knew, I'm only stating that I reached the beach before him. That's all.
Before we went to eat most of us changed out of our swim trunks. I deck changed, as you do if you grew up a swimmer. Wrap a towel around your waist, strip, pull on shorts. Easy. To my surprise, Bennett did it too, with seven guys standing around him asking questions. Because that's what you do when swimming is part of your job. You're comfortable like that. I can check watching an Olympian get dressed off my To Do list (was hoping for Amanda Beard).
Breakfast was the Fairmont Orchid buffet, though the hotel had set us up in a special side room. Seating for 30. Only, like I said, half a dozen of us. So we pushed to tables together. By the way, I'm not saying there were only six of us as a commentary on Greg Bennett. I keep saying it because I seriously cannot believe more people didn't sign up. You are an amateur athlete being given the chance to speak to and hang out with and swim with a highly decorated pro and you are going to pass it up? Why would you do that? He was the nicest guy in the world. Answered every single question, and asked great ones in return. 
I was very excited because I have a question I would ask every single pro triathlete if I could, and I finally got the chance to ask one! "What," I asked, "would be your perfect race? If you could create the Bennett Invitational and you could pick any distances and course topography, what would it be?" His answer was pure short-course expert. "1-2k swim, 30k hilly bike, and an 8k run." I want to be the first to register for that race.
I was in the middle of Chrissie Wellington's autobiography, A Life Without Limits, and recently finished Chris "Macca" McCormack's I'm Here To Win, (Macca's is better) so I also half-jokingly asked when we were going to get The Greg Bennett Story. He said he wasn't sure he would write a book about himself, but he might be interested in writing a nutrition book with his wife for athletes. I'd read that too. He said he liked reading books about an athlete struggling before making it to the top and one of the athletes who could write a great book like that would be Craig "Crowie" Alexander, five-time world champion. So Crowie, get on it.
We asked about training stuff too. He would know, right? Compression works, and he prefers it to ice baths, but you've gotta have the good stuff. A lot of compression gear is really "only tighter rugby socks" so it doesn't do much good. And yes, I sqee-ed on the inside to hear the Aussie mention rugby. Ice baths are ok but he doesn't like them too much because of how they make his joints feel. He also loves riding on a trainer. The controlled environment, putting together a good two or three hour interval workout, helps him get stronger. That will help me get on the trainer more readily next time, with better plans.
It was a kick to hear him tell stories about other pros, people I'd only read about or seen in magazines. Stuff like, "I love Macca, but some of the stuff he says some times, I mean come on, man." That's hilarious, especially if you've ever heard Macca talk about himself. And if you've heard Macca talk, you've heard him talk about himself. This sounds bad, but I'm a big fan of his. Bigger fan of Greg Bennett now though. Macca, I'm sure, is crushed.
What was really cool, though, was when he asked us about our races. Everyone around the table shared how they did, with the rest of us chiming in and making jokes. It was more like a bull session with friends than a collection of people who had never met before. Triathlon family. Bennett said he liked doing things like this because triathlon is such a small world on the outside, but feels so big on the inside. And with pros racing alongside age groupers like us, it means we can all share the same war stories. I can't tell you how nice it was to hear him say he was scared by the wind coming down Hawi too. If the pro was clutching his aerobars and hoping not to crash, that means we really are together in this. Tom Brady will never say to you, "Musta been tough, sitting in the stands cheering the whole game while it was snowing. I'm impressed you made it to the end." When our pro says, "It was a really hard day out there and I'm impressed all of you made it through the bike without crashing," that means something.
Greg Bennett was as nice as anyone could have asked and more. He asked us to go around the table and talk about our future race plans and when I told him about Super Awesome Wife being pregnant and how that might impact us as a family and my training he wished me luck. Three times, and on Twitter. Dude was actually paying attention, not just nodding and smiling through some boring meet-and-greet. He said the swim and breakfast was his idea and I believe him. Here's his tweet from that morning.

Greg Bennett ‏@GregBennett1

Recovery swim and breakfast at the @FairmontOrchid . I'm looking forward to hearing all the war stories from yesterday.

 He wasn't selling anything and barely mentioned his sponsors, though I'd probably drop some money on a Bennett Endurance jersey. It really did feel like hearing war stories and hanging out was his only goal.

Meeting fans pre-race (from finisherpix) I'll take a jersey, please

I'm officially a fanboy now, and I'll be cheering for Greg at Kona this year, and his wife Laura at the London Games. He's got a Grand Plan to convince Lance, Crowie, Macca, Chris Lieto, and any of the other big names he can to do the 5150 (Ironman Olympic Distance Championship), Las Vegas (Ironman 70.3 Championship), and Kona (Ironman 140.6 World Championship) this year so they can really see who the best triathlete is. His money would be on Crowie, he said. How cool would that be, for all of the best to race all the distances together?
I can't thank Greg and the Fairmont Orchid enough for letting us do this. It was a pleasure and a privilege to meet him. A more amazingly nice, polite, humble professional athlete in any sport you'll be hard-pressed to find. And, if you're looking, you can find him @GregBennett1 on twitter. All the luck with your season, Greg. Go get 'em.

The group, Greg is in the shades

Dirtbag and the Olympian

Honu Race Report Part II: The 70.3 Racening- Part I: Pre-Race and The Swim

(If you missed Part I, click here)

Today is your day. Your mountain is waiting, so get on your way.

-Dr. Seuss

We woke up at 3:40 for a 7am race start. There was a lot to do before the cannon. 

The first and most important thing was breakfast. One does not swim bike run for 70.3 miles on an empty stomach. Regular readers know that my stomach and I have had a tumultuous relationship on normal days, and on race days in particular, which means I don't normally eat a whole lot. But after my trip to the doctor a few months ago I've been feeling much better and wasn't concerned. That, coupled with my race plan, made the morning go surprisingly smoothly. A banana and half a peanut butter-covered bagel and I'm ready to head out the door.

Ah, the race plan. I thought you'd focus on that. My race plan and goal for the Honu were very simple: Finish. Have a good swim, know I had the ride, and get through the run however I needed to. That's all. I had a general finishing time in mind but couldn't have told you what it was once I was out on the course. I knew basically what each of the three splits should have been. But I didn't know how bad the wind would be on the bike, which would be a huge factor (and was), and I didn't know how my foot would hold up on the run or how badly I would melt in the sun. So no pressure.

This was a great way to look at my first 70.3. Why add any more pressure than I needed to? This was already going to be the hardest day out I've ever had. I have no ego, for once, riding on the result aside from the unthinkable DNF, so I was going to go out, work hard, have a good day, and try to work hard enough to stagger across the finish line but not so hard I stagger across mile six. More on this once we get to the bike and the run. That's where the plan really solidified.

To get to the race start we drove to the race finish, then got on a very nice coach bus which took us the extra four or so miles down the road to the race start, Hapuna Bay. Diesel claims its normally a fleet of school buses. Nicer buses = Lance Effect. Thanks, dude who won't be riding any bus. We appreciate you causing this to sell out. Helps us.

Once at Hapuna Bay the first order of business is bike check. We left our bikes in T1 yesterday, but they aren't quite ready to mount and go yet. For one, no water in the bottles. This would be tragically bad. Super Awesome Wife, who got up at 3:40 with the rest of us because she's super and awesome, and she wanted to see the off, helped me fill my bottles. This was the first time we got a good impression of the wind on the course. Namely, that if the water came out of the fountain in one place, you should hold the bottle waaay over here, otherwise you're watering the lawn. It was nice to laugh that early in the morning. The sun was already up. It was looking to be a great, hot, windy, hot, windy day.

For two, the day before we had all let air out of our tires. It gets hot on the Kona side, and anyone who passed high school science knows that heat does what to air. Yes, in the back? No, you may not go to the bathroom, sit down. Ah, the stereotype in the front row, yes? Right, heat causes air to expand. So if we had left our bikes sitting in the hot sun all day yesterday with fully filled tires, the tubes may have exploded. Which would have sucked. Changing a flat when I should be doing all my other pre-race stuff is not great. Luckily, that was not a problem, I borrowed a pump, and just like that Kratos was ready. 

Ready for battle

The next step was body marking. This was down the hill. Oh yeah, there was a hill. The difference between the Bay and T1 was, according to my Garmin, was only 36 feet. Yeah, well it was a steep 36 feet. Anyway, body marking. This is always interesting, because you really get to see how organized the event is by how well they handle numbering so many athletes. Ironman IS organization. A huge number of volunteers, a dozen lines of athletes, and the lines moved, if not swiftly, at least regularly. As I tweeted after getting marked, my guy was more concerned about making a mistake than some tattoo artists I've had. "1-5-5-3, right? 1-5-5-3."

Once I was body marked, I sun screened up and I was ready. Super Awesome Wife decided that rather than wait for the off on the beach she was going to head back up by T1 so that she could see the whole bay, and it would be easier for her to get pictures of the four of us coming through T1. This event was too big for her normal Picture Coming Out of the Water-Run to T1- Picture in T1. She had to choose. I'd rather see her as I was leaving on the bike than coming out of the water anyway. Helps. I kissed her and Dirtbag Fetus, then we went our ways.

So now I was alone. Kinda. Alone with nearly 2,000 of my closest friends. You know what was crazy though? Down on that beach, I didn't feel nervous in the least. I felt ready, secure in my plan and my training. What else could I do? It was too late to work harder, too late to back out, not that that was ever an option. It was time to do the thing. And no one around me felt all that nervous either. There was a ton of laughing and smiling. I dove into the crystal waters for a few hundred yards of warm-up and felt smooth. I rarely swim with my tri top on, so that was pully, but other than that everything was clicking nicely. Ran into a friend from Oahu and chatted, saw the Grey and MamaSaid, and suddenly the pros were heading towards the starting buoys. And I feel like again I should stress, this start line was full of happy, smiling, relaxed people. I'm sure there were balls of stress out there, twisting themselves into knots. But I didn't see many. I saw cool people. It was, without a doubt, the most positive starting line I've ever toed. And that helps. Positive feeds positive. A wonderful endorphin loop.

Pro start

 I don't know if the pros would have started three minutes before us anyway, of if the Lance Effect meant they got their own wave, but I appreciated it. Gave me time to realize I hadn't gotten my Garmin set up correctly. And, in my pre-race jitters, I forgot how to get it to Multi-Sport mode. D'oh! Looked around, there has to be someone on the beach wearing one...found a nice woman who hooked me up, and I was ready, but for real this time. The three minutes were also good because I figured that was a fair head start for Mr. Larmstrong. 
The announcer told us to take our places between the buoys, I waded out to what looked like a good spot, to just where I had to tread. No one was right in front of me but I wasn't on the leading edge either. I wasn't sure how far to the front I should be. Normally I get right up there, but in a field this big? Might get swum over. I settled in.

We wait for the pros off, I search for a Garmin

We take our places, with the less confident swimmers waiting on shore for the mosh pit to thin

Didn't have to wait long, though no one around me was prepared for the start. Talking about it later, no one heard a countdown. One second you were floating/standing/waiting, and the next CANNON! GOGOGO!
This was a washing machine, more so than any other race I've done. I immediately realized I overestimated my start position, but only slightly. I did get swum over a little. I got elbowed and kicked, there was white water everywhere, bodies everywhere, no clear water to be found. As a swimmer, it was exhilarating. Yes, I grew up loving the pool, everyone in their own lanes, everyone with space. But the physicality and aggression of a good mass start is awesome. A great way to being a day. I know many who would disagree. But they like running, and that makes them crazypants.
Eventually the crowd thinned some and I had open water. As open as water gets in a race like this. Which actually means I was in the middle of a group all heading towards a fixed point in the water. What is nice about this is I didn't pop my head up to sight but once for the first half of the race. I, like a fish, swam with my school and trusted that whomever was leading us had a bead on where we were all going. I watched the hips of the dude (chick? full body suits on skinny people are hard) next to me, occasionally avoided kicking feet, and found my rhythm.

GO!!!

 After the race, around the many tables among many different athletes where we had many blow-by-blow conversations about each leg, I would state that I loved this swim. And I truly truly did. It felt as good as I could have hoped. The water in Hapuna Bay is clear and calm, I could see all the way to the ocean floor an unknown number of feet below me. By the time I'd gotten there all the sealife had scattered, but there was coral and white sand and I loved it. I could have swum all day long. This is the positive of open water swimming. You don't get that in the pool. This sightseeing may have slowed me down some, but I don't think so. In mass start swims you group quickly. The first 200-300 yards or so is a sprint, then the lead group breaks away and everyone else forms their own schools and you pretty much stay there for the remainder. It takes too much energy to bridge a gap. Better to settle in. I didn't think too much about the coming bike, and the run never even entered my mind. There is no reason to dwell on the future pain during a triathlon like this. I had enough to think about. Constantly doing stroke checks, body position checks, and maintaining positive thoughts. I knew that the one thing that was going get me through this more than anything else was staying positive in my thinking all the way through. Letting negative energy in would kill me. So even though I'm a swimmer and I can get through a 1.2mi swim without too much struggle, I activated the positive and held on to it. It would be one of my rocks for the next six hours.

The field stretched across Hapuna Bay

I guess a buoy broke away from its moorings because of the wind, because lifeguards were waving groups back at one point. A few of the leaders started chasing the rogue buoy out to sea, and we had to be stopped. Looking at my Garmin data, as funky as it is with the problems it has tracking while swimming, you can kind of see that I did the same thing in my group. That course should be a rectangle, but there's a little dogleg in there. Whatcha gonna do?
I hit the beach feeling great. As far as you know, Lance was pulling on my feet the whole swim and I just barely beat him out of the water. Dude must have sprinted up the hill to be second into transition.
Swim Time- 32:55. I expected somewhere around 30 minutes. I'm happy.
It was here that one of my first Rules about the 70.3 came into effect. I will not run uphill. Not much. Why? It's going to spike my heartrate and make me tired. I'm not looking to save a minute here. So I walked up to T1. Better to be calm in transition. Got out my bag, poured a big water bottle over my head to get some salt off, put on my shoes, helmet, race belt with number, and shades, and grabbed Kratos. Ready for the fun part? Here we go!

T1 was hugely packed with bikes

Greg Bennett into T1 in the lead

Lance and Chris Lieto in 2nd and 3rd

The pros rush through T1

Diesel on his way out

Dirtbag always finds time to blow kisses to Super Awesome Wife

How did the bike and run go? Read about them in Part III.