I recently completed my last triathlon of the season, Ironman 70.3 Lake Stevens. The race went great and was a great wrap to a very successful triathlon season.

My focus now shifts to training for Portland Marathon on October 9th, so my ratio of swim/bike/run shifts from 25%/50%/25% to 15%/25%/60%. This allows me to increase my weekly mileage and arrange my training week around my 20+ mile long runs on Saturdays. Since April I’ve been training with the Get Fit Live Fit marathon program offered by Fit Right NW, which has offered not only guidance around how to safely approach the marathon distance, but also helped me work around injuries throughout the season.

After the marathon is over I look forward to two months of strength and light base training before I kick back into high gear in January. The main race next year for me will be Ironman Canada in August, and I am extremely excited for the challenge of preparing for such a demanding race.

[Editor's note: You can watch a video from Doug Carr over here, where he details his prep for Rev 3.]

Most of my triathlon race reports, or any event for that matter, usually start with “The alarm clock went off at 4:30 a.m.” This one will be no exception. I’m the kind of guy who likes to be methodical and relaxed on the morning of race day, and if that means losing half of an hour of sleep, then that’s just the way it goes. That’s not to say that I sleep very well the night before, but that’s another story.

This half-iron distance race would be my wife’s first tri at that length, and since she’d be facing “time cut-offs” for each of the swim and bike legs, there would certainly be some anxious moments until the gun went off for her wave. The more I could do to keep things calm, the better off her race would be.

Being as bikes were already at the lake, it was just a matter of grabbing our gear for the day and heading out for the 45 minute or so drive. We took a cooler to keep water chilled, as we both new the day would be getting long and warm.

The transition area for this event was approximately half a mile from the swim venue. That meant, once you made a last check on tires, hydration, T-1 and T-2 gear placement and size up your competition, it was time to head over to the start. The start would go off in five waves. Pro Men, Pro Women, All Women, All Men under 40, and the rest of the Men over 40, Relays and Aquabike. The weather was spectacular and the water temp was sitting at 72 degrees. This meant no wetsuits for the pros, and most of the Age Groupers would be sleeveless, given the option. I like the temps to hover near 63, as I feel just warm enough after the initial facial numbness subsides. Unfortunately my sleeveless top was sitting comfortably at home. Oh, well, that’s what it means by remaining flexible on race day.

SWIM

Our wave hit the water at 8:40. This is a pretty late start for long course races, and most folks new that sunscreen would be an essential piece of equipment. The swim would comprise a single lap around a rectangle, measuring 1/2 mile on its longest sides, and about 1/10 mile on its ends. Counterclockwise meant buoys to your left, but there were so many intermediate sighting buoys, that it really wasn’t a problem for us right-side breathers. The second buoy was at the end of the first “long-side” and was dead center of the sun’s reflection off the water. This made sighting more difficult for those who watch the buoy instead of a distinct landmark above the horizon. A friend of mine actual ended up heading for the third turn buoy, and was directed back to the second buoy by a kayak.

All in all, the swim went well even though it was a little warm. We were allowed to hang dry bags at the swim, so if you wanted to run to T-1 in shoes, you could have them there. You had the option of bringing your wetsuits with you, or stuffing it in the bag to be brought over to your bike by the event crew. That’s what I chose to do, and was actually surprised when a volunteer came and help me strip my wetsuit. Bonus! The 1/2 mile run to T-1 was a new experience, but I have to say that I actually liked it. It gave my legs a chance to warm up some of the biking muscles, and be ready to ride.

BIKE

T-1 was uneventful, just like I prefer it. Hopefully the sunscreen was still going to work? It was a short trip up to the main road to join the course, which was laid out as two loops of 27 miles each. The helicopter was already in the air for coverage of the swim course, and now it was zooming up and down the Columbia River catching the pro bike action, along with motorcycles getting footage on the course. It was a pretty cool experience being on course with the pros and watching them (hearing them actually) come whizzing past you turning 26 ~ 27 mph averages, including four complete u-turns. I managed to average 20.51 mph for the 56 miles and felt pretty comfortable the whole time. Wattage was right where I wanted it, as was heart rate. My bike performed flawlessly, and I had no problems passing when needed. Water stations were well equipped for hand-offs and distances were appropriate.

RUN

I felt better coming off this bike leg than I have in some time. I believe that it was a combination of controlling the output? But then something started happening about a mile into the run. My left inner quad and inner hamstring felt like they both wanted to cramp up. My right side was fine. I thought, “Great, this is going to be a long 13 miles!” At the first aid station, I took my weight to my right side, lifted my left foot off the ground while keeping my knee out in front of me. I then poured a cup of ice water on the head of the quad, and like magic, the feeling of cramping went away and never returned. It was weird. So I ran. The heat was starting to get to me, and I even used ice under my hat and in my back pocket of my jersey to keep cooled down. It turned into a struggle, but I had a lot of company. Misery loves company, right? I’d surge every once in a while and pick out landmarks or the next aid station to get to. I knew where the finish line was and just kept trudging ahead. I felt good to see the crowd still cheering everyone in, and likewise it felt good to cross that finish line. I can say that I did it with a smile on my face. In this link to the age group video, I have the unique honor of being the only one shown being presented with a finisher’s medal. Age Group Summary Video

Train With Grain!!

Meredith gives us a short recap of her busy July and some good insight into what the life of a pro-racer is like.

Mark gives us a rundown of his team sponsors and shows us what it looks like to be on a pro team. A little “getting to know you” if you will.

Doug gives us insight into getting ready for Rev 3 Portland.

The swim, wow, long.  1.2 miles through the Wickiup reservoir can be taxing.  Fortunately, with all the hard work that we put in to preparing for the open water swim, it didn’t feel too bad.  Although, I was definitely ready to get out of the water, I never got to a point where I didn’t think that I would finish.  The most important thing to remember and to practice when you’re preparing for an open water swim is to practice your sighting.  You can quickly add distance to the 1.2 miles that you’re already swimming.  Practice your sighting in the pool early on and then take what you’ve learned to your open water swims.  Mastering this skill will pay dividends when you’re out in open water.

The bike, amazing!  I never thought that I could go that fast on a bicycle!  When the speedometer hit 43 mph, I said to myself, “omg, I hope I don’t blow a tire!”  It takes total focus to keep the bike pointed straight down the hill and to not swerve very much especially considering the amount of cross wind that hits you from time to time.  I did learn that I could have pushed myself harder earlier in the bike portion of the race.  Being my first Half-Ironman, I was unsure how hard to push and when.  I also learned that I didn’t need nearly as much water/electrolyte prior to the first water station as I thought.  This minor miscalculation did add some unnecessary weight but it gave me something to perfect for next time.The funniest thing that I saw was a fellow athlete eating a full homemade sandwich out of a plastic baggy about 2 miles in to the race.  It seemed a little silly and it gave me some early comic relief – to each their own I guess.  But overall, the bike portion of the race was breathtakingly beautiful, with snow lined roads, mountain and lake views, this ride is definitely a must regardless of whether you’re seeing it on race day or if you’re just out for a pleasure cruise.

The run, slow.  The running portion of Pacific Crest 2011, taught me something… I’m a mediocre runner.  Normally, running 13 miles is not that daunting.  However, running 13 miles after swimming 1.2 miles and riding my bike for 58 miles presented a whole new challenge.  The mental and physical exhaustion started to add up but the determination to finish and finish strong helped keep me going.  It’s amazing how hard you can push your body, mind and spirit on race day.  I guess that’s what Triathlon racing is all about – when you think you can’t go any further, you somehow find the strength to keep going.

Overall, Pacific Crest 2011 was a wonderful racing experience.  If you’re a beginner like me, definitely put this race on your list of ones to do.  It’s absolutely beautiful, the course is wonderful, the fan support is amazing and it’s something that you will talk about with your racing buddies for years to come.

Last stop on the June calendar was the US National Championships in Augusta, GA. When we walked out of the airport at 9pm on Monday night and it was still 90+ degrees, we knew we were in for a HOT, almost cruel, week of racing. Luckily before the racing got underway, we had a couple days to get somewhat acclimated to the heat and humidity. We were pushing the fluids continuously from morning til night to replenish the sweat that would drip from our skin as we stood still just breathing.

The first stars and stripes jersey to be awarded for the week was for the time trial. The course was a straight forward 30km (18 mile) out and back trip that included several rollers along the way. I didn’t have high expectations for the time trial, although when we were pre-riding the TT course a couple of days before the race, I felt good enough that I thought maybe I could have a strong ride. We ride the fastest TT bikes out there, the Specialized Shiv, and mine was going so fast without even trying! I felt like I had no chain – it was that easy. However, on the day of the TT we woke up to lower temperatures but 100% humidity. It was absolutely suffocating. During my ride all I wanted to do was sit up to take a deep breath and peel off my skinsuit. I felt awful. I didn’t feel comfortable at all, but I gritted my teeth and pushed as hard as I could to the end. Needless to say, I didn’t have a great result. I’ve done well in time trials in the past, but I am by no means a time trial specialist so I didn’t let myself get too wrapped up in the result.

The following night was the criterium. We knew that our best chance of winning was for any one of us to get into a break to hopefully eliminate some of the stronger sprinters. From the gun we started throwing bombs to get the break we wanted. Then just 15 laps into the 45 lap race, imminent storms caused the officials to call out five laps to go. We immediately had to reel back a break that had snuck off the front without us, which under normal circumstances wouldn’t have been so threatening, but with only five laps to go we had to bring it back together right away.

After we brought the break back, it was complete mayhem in the peloton. After what should have been 50km of racing, there would have been tired legs and probably a smaller peloton, but after only 20km of racing there were still a lot of fresh legs wanting a chance at the stars and stripes jersey. People were darting here and there to get in the best possible position for the finish. With half a lap to go there was a crash causing a little shakeup in the front of the field. Rides went down on both sides of me, which opened up a small gap that was too hard to close so close to the finish. My race was over, but several of my teammates were in the front still fighting all the way to the line. The stars and stripes jersey stayed on the back of defending champion, Shelley Olds, but we did the best we could given the situation.

On Sunday we lined up at 8:15am for the 75 mile road race in Fort Gordon. The mercury was already rising and it was only going to get hotter. We started the race with cold bottles on our bikes and panty hose filled with ice on our backs. Within the first two km of the race an attack went up the side of the peloton and one of my teammates was on it right away. Another rider tagged on and the three of them went speeding away and out of sight for three of the five laps. Having a teammate in the break took the pressure off the rest of us while other teams had to work hard to change the race situation to their favor. All we had to do was follow wheels to make sure that nothing went up the road without another one of us tagging along.

During lap four we heard that our teammate had been dropped from the break and there was one rider by herself, a very strong rider and time trialist at that. I dropped back to the team car to discuss the situation with our team director and he gave us instructions to take the gloves off and start racing as if we didn’t have a teammate up the road still. Boom, we hit the peloton left and right with attacks. The pace stayed high as many people were anxious to get going. Soon two of the riders from the break had been reabsorbed and there was only one rider out in front. At the beginning of lap five the lone leader was back in the peloton. It was game on for everyone.

Midway through the last lap there was an attack that I followed and before I knew it there were five of us motoring away from the peloton. The gap wavered between 20-40 seconds over the next 12 km. I was struggling with the heat and needed more water but was unable to get any from the team car. I started to feel goose bumps coming on, which was not a good thing, but I was able to hold the pace. Several kilometers from the finish, the gap was holding and we knew that the next road national champion was going to come from this break.

With just over a km to go we hit the last climb. I was expecting there to be attacks at the bottom of the hill but they didn’t come until about three quarters of the way up. I hesitated and missed the jump as three riders rode away to the finish about 400m away. All I could do at the point was watch how the sprint unfolded in front of me. Two years ago it was me who crossed the line with my arms in the air as the 2009 national champion. I knew what the thrill of winning this race felt like and now I was experiencing the disappointment. More than anything I was crushed for letting my teammates down. Not only did I want the win, so did the team. I have replayed the finish over and over in my head wishing I could go back and do it differently for me, for the team.

The past is past. It’s time to look forward to the next opportunity to win a race! July is another month jam packed with racing so there will be plenty more of them to come.

June was a busy month of racing – I logged twelve days of racing in five different states. Rewinding to the beginning of the month, the racing started with a ‘practice’ race in Rockleigh, NJ to help us prepare for the biggest, most prestigious one-day race in America, the Liberty Classic, in Philadelphia, PA. After a few days at home, we regrouped the following weekend in Washington DC for two fast criteriums, which were part of the Air Force Classic. From there we hopped on a plane for Minnesota to race the grueling 5-day, 6-stage Nature Valley Grand Prix. Coming off a successful week of racing in MN, we jetted off to Augusta, GA to contest the time trial, criterium and road race at the US National Championships.

The Rockleigh Criterium is a weekly event that is held from May to August and is located around the corner from the Volvo headquarters, a Team TIBCO sponsor. As a way to open up our legs for the Liberty Classic and to showcase the team to Volvo, we jumped into this race alongside a bunch of men (we were the only women that night) to give them a run for their money. The race wasn’t easy by any means, but we were glued to any wheel that attempted to get away. Two of my teammates ended up being part of the 5-person winning break. They traded pull for pull with the guys and were only out paced in the final sprint. I’m pretty sure that night we opened a few eyes to how strong women are on a bike.

Three days later we were toeing the line in downtown Philadelphia for the Liberty Classic, one race on the calendar that I never want to miss because of the kind of energy and thrill that makes this race. We were amped up and nervous for this race all at once. Winning the Liberty Classic is a BIG deal for an individual and a team. Historically this race has come down to a field sprint more times than not, but we were hoping for a break to eliminate the chaos that goes along with a field sprint. The break never happened so all we could do was line it up for our sprinter in the last kilometer. We did our best to deliver Joelle to the line, but we ended up one place short of the podium. Despite the disappointment, the team raced well together and we were happy with our performance.

The following weekend in DC, we were hungry for a win. We came out at the Clarendon Cup firing on all cylinders. Attack after attack busted out of the peloton, but nothing stayed away so we set Joelle up for a sprint finish. She got a great jump out of the last, tight turn, turned on the afterburners and easily threw her hands up in victory across the finish line.

Winning the race the day before only made us more hungry for another win on day two. We raced hard, we gave it our all but came up one place short of victory. You win some, you lose some. We raced well, that counts for a lot. Plus, it gave us a lot of confidence heading into the next week of racing in MN.

The Nature Valley Grand Prix is a prominent and highly respected race on the national calendar, and this year the strongest peloton I had ever seen at this race was present. The peloton included the current road World Champion, former World Champions and numerous Olympians. There was no doubt we would have our hands full each and every day.

Day one started with a double day – TT in the morning and crit in the evening. Let’s just say day one wasn’t our best day of racing, but we knew we had a lot of racing yet to come so we looked forward to the road race on day two.

Again, we raced hard and played off each other well all day long. At the end of the day we didn’t have a big result, but we didn’t lose anything either.

On day three we were one lap away from the end of the Uptown Minneapolis criterium, lined up on the front of the peloton ready to deliver our sprinter to the line. We were dialed! And then there was a serious crash that happened right behind us. Only 20 riders escaped the chaos, however so many riders and bikes blocked the road behind us that we were unable to finish the race. Bummer! But, at least everyone was ok.

The Menomonie Falls road race the next day was awesome! Three TIBCO riders made it into the break of seven and they helped drive it all the way to the finish, which catapulted Erinne into second overall. It was a fantastic display of selfless teamwork!

The final day of the NVGP is the toughest of them all – the Stillwater Criterium. It’s the single, hardest crit all year and it comes after four days of racing. Brutal. I had a complete brain fart at the beginning of the race, which took me out of the race, but Erinne and the rest of the team rode their hearts out. The team was extremely proud and happy to see Erinne hold on to her second place overall after an exhausting but exciting week of racing.

Disclaimer: (Feed)Zone exists in a world of hyperbole and the lines between fantasy and reality are smeared like the finger-painting of an artistically challenged 3 year old. All stories are mostly accurate if not actual…

THE LELAND KERMESSE

Ergo

WHAT A MESS

The Feed(ZONE) wishes to thank the fine people of the Flantlandia Cycling Association for organizing, hosting, marshaling and all other duties involved with putting on a truly unique and wonderful bike race that is NOT another industrial park crit.  The weather was not your fault and no one who raced the Leland Kermesse this year and suffered mightily should be dissuaded from participating next year.

Spring time in Chicagoland is not as described in the folk lore “in like a lion out like a lamb”.  Spring in Chicagoland is an epic struggle between competing air masses, pressure zones, jet streams and gulf moisture; none of which are willing to surrender ground to the other.  It is violent, hostile, nasty and ruthless.  You may be enjoying a bike ride at 10:00 a.m. with 70 degree temps in a gentle breeze and sunny conditions only to face riding back from your turn around point into the teeth of a bitter north wind with thunder snow whipped into your face with an ambient air temp of 40 and a wind chill in the 20’s.

I knew the weather forecast for the race:  50 degrees, partly sunny following a morning of diminishing rain fall and windy conditions were predicted.  20 mph WNW wind with gusts to 35 said accuweather.com.  I predicted via Facebook that I would dish out some pain at the race.  I was about to find out that pain would be all mine.

I got to the race venue in Leland IL, about 90 miles due west of Chicago.  Middle of Nowhere in La Salle County,  Leland is a town of 950 with a high school, a grain elevator and a Casey’s General Store.  I drove to registration at the Village Hall, a 400 square foot, 2 room metal shed on the outskirts of town.  The weather was indeed quite nasty.  The rains had diminished and the wind was as predicted.  The partly sunny skies were actually quite overcast but the temperature was indeed 50 or close to it.

Riders from the early wave of racing were finishing.  The winner of the Cat 5 race came to his car after finishing his race.  “It’s brutal out there” he said.  I laughed to myself as he said this.  Of course it’s awful.  You’re a lowly newbie but congratulations on your win.  Winning the Leland Kermesse will either help build you toward being a real bike racer one day or it will destroy your desire to race and turn you into a Century Clubber.

The Leland Kermesse is the best attempt we have here in IL at duplicating the small Belgian races that blast off every weekend in the Flemish countryside.  The roads are rural, the towns are small, the pavement is often cobbled, crusty or just plain farm roads. And, the racing is legendary for being brutally tough.  The Leland Kermesse captures this well.  The roads are essentially flat with small rises and false flats and each 25k lap includes about 8k of what the locals call “aggregate” roads.  Aggregate is not gravel, although there is some gravel.  It is a compacted mixture of hard packed clay and sand with some rock tossed on top from time to time to replenish what the tractors and combines take with them into the adjacent corn and soy bean fields.  When it’s dry these roads are dusty and when wet, the roads are slick and soupy.

The kid had clearly spent too much time following wheels, but he won his race and Druber tosses out large props.

After taking the photo above, I returned to the warmth of my car.

15 minutes before my race was scheduled to begin, I returned to my car from my 10 minute warm up ride and put a mid weight wind jacket on over the Patagonia Capilene base layer, arm warmers and mid weight wind vest I had underneath my long sleeved jersey.  I also, put my thermal leg warmers on over the light weight knee warmers I was wearing.  The temperature was dropping.

As the combined Master 30+ and 45+ and Women 1/2/3 fields rolled out, the jockeying for position and shelter from buffeting head wind began.  When the neutral rollout ended, the attacks followed immediately.  The Van Waggoner team had 4 guys who were bound to split the field early on and they were attacking and forcing the pace for the first 5 miles in the cross winds and head winds. I for the most part was taking a passive role. Those guys were in the 30+ field and I had most of the 45+ guys sitting near me so I just figured on letting the 30+ guys beat on each other while I watched it happen.

Upon hitting the first tail wind section the race surprisingly began to shred.  As the pace was amped, the guys who’d been struggling in the cross wind were allowing small gaps to form.  I closed down across a couple of gaps as we turned into the second strong cross wind section and found myself with only one 45+ contender in the group.  One more short tail wind section preceded the first section of Strade Bianche and as we turned on to it, I was blasted with a wind gust that pushed me off the clay road into the grass and nearly down into the ditch running alongside the road.  As I righted myself, I was gapped from the leaders with the 45+ rider ahead of me.  Knowing that this would be the race deciding section, here only 6 miles into the 100k race, I buried myself on the slick, muddy clay road passing the 45+ rider and 3-30+ riders on my way up to Paul Swinand who was riding away up the road in the fierce cross/headwind.  Paul and I had broken away in this same race together last year at the exact same time in the exact same section of road.  If you look back through my archives on Trusport you’ll find the report.

Paul is a retail stock analyst for Morningstar.  He’s a guy who shows up on Bloomberg or CNBC from time to time telling you if it’s a good time to buy Target or Big Lots or Wal Mart and whether or not the retail sector is a fair value or over priced or expecting a slump.  He’s also a damn good bike racer. Has been so since the 80’s.  He’s chatty.  Talks about the kids, former races, basically riding with Paul, you catch an un filtered stream of consciousness as it pops into his head it pours out of his mouth.

Paul was not wearing a jacket or leg coverings.  His hands were covered with tight fitting neoprene gloves – The kind meant to keep your hands dry but not warm.  As I caught up with Paul, he was jabbering about getting enough to drink, how his hands were cold but not to bad, how was I feeling and I’d need to be sure and write something funny on Truesport – suggesting that maybe the funniest thing about the race was that we two roadies had dropped a team full of cyclo-cross racers on the first section of aggregate road and so on.

Trading pulls with Paul, the two of us had 30 seconds on our poursivants upon exiting the first section of aggregate road.  We beat it hard in the tail wind and jammed hard through the next 2 mile section of aggregate in the cross wind.  The narrow lanes of rideable road made drafting nearly impossible.  You see, to avoid the soft and sticky center of the road, you need to ride on the traffic paths left by cars.  In a cross wind, one rider would be on the smooth clay and the other rider would be in either softer muck or gravel.  Thus, on the aggregate in the cross wind, it was every man for himself.  Paul was having a much easier go on the slick roads than I.

I was feeling peckish – over dressed, which Paul mentioned between other verbal tweets.  “You feel okay? You don’t seem like yourself, I mean you’re not tearing it up like you did last year, you feeling a bit tired? Maybe all that riding in California has you tired but you’ll be better in about June.”  If I wrote this like Paul said it, it would be a single run on sentence with no punctuation and no spaces between the words.

When we exited the second section and turned right to catch that tasty to but brief tail wind, I unzipped all my layers and let them flap in the breeze. I was cursing myself for over dressing.  I began to feel much better as I cooled down.  Little did I know that on the very next lap, I’d be zipping those layers back up after the rain and sleet started falling and the temps dropped as the wind coarsened.

Paul and I buried ourselves into the mighty head wind after exiting the last 1 mile section of aggregate.  You all know my TT ability.  I am not kidding you when I tell you that the best Paul and I could do in the fierce head wind was about 16 mph and often it was 14.  I’ll insert my Garmin file link of the race here to show you.  Note how high my HR is at the same time our speeds are the slowest.  http://connect.garmin.com/activity/79744282

Less than half way through the race we had an insurmountable gap on our chasers.  Thus as the temperatures dropped, the rain and sleet began and our task ceased being riding hard to stay away from the other racers but going as hard as we possibly could in order to end the miserable experience we were enduring. The finish line didn’t mean victory; it meant an end to the most ludicrous and miserable way a stock analyst and a financial advisor could possibly spend a Saturday afternoon.  We both have hot wives. We both have nice homes. Paul has young children.  I have a dog and a well stocked bar at home and yet – here we were.

I began to get concerned when Paul stopped talking.  He was obviously suffering the effects of hypothermia.  His lips were blue and he couldn’t feel his feet or hands.  I was having lower back spasms and couldn’t feel my hands inside the rain soaked gloves gripping the handle bars as we bounced along the washboard surface of the aggregate roads.  “I’m miserable, I wish the officials would shorten the race” I told Paul.  His response after a long period of silence was “Wwaa webber ib turbull.  Khan fee faiche.  Khan see straight, ubber body numm”

And yet, in the last 5 miles, he was riding away from me on the slick, muddy clay roads.  Clearly he is one tough man, and clearly he wanted to get back to his car more badly than I wanted to get to mine.  In the end, he crossed the line as the 30+ winner and I crossed the 45+ winner with, what some said, about an 8 minute gap over the next finishers.

Frozen, delirious, caked in sand and clay from the waist down, we both rode wordlessly to our cars flopped out bikes on the ground, got in and turned on the heat and seat warmers vowing never again…until next year.

Only 3 riders finished the Pro 1,2 race.