Location: Middlebury, CT
Date: June 6, 2010
Placing: 8th Overall Amateur
Format: 1.2-kilometer swim/56-mile bike/13.1-mile run
Race Photos
Results: Click Here
Check the bike portion of this race by clicking HERE

It wasn't easy fitting my parka and baclava into my suitcase but with Connecticut being just outside the Arctic circle, I was better safe than sorry. But it turns out that we apparently flew in a big circle because when we landed, it was near 90 degrees and humid with some pop-up afternoon showers. We were right back in South Carolina! It wasn't until we picked up our rental car that it became glaringly obvious that in fact, we "weren't in Kansas anymore". Dear South Carolina drivers: I take back all of the bad things I said about you. Sure, some of you still forget that you're not the only one on the road but I've been to a place where lane markings and traffic signs are merely suggestions. Where - if the horn on your car is broken - your car is basically useless. Where people will turn right in front of you without regard. No, I'm not singling out one or two motorists; up there it was a way of life.

I'll just make a few other observations about Connecticut before I move on to the race reporting. No offense to Waterbury, but we searched for several days to find the 'nice part of town' and the 'cute downtown area' but to no avail. Everywhere we went in town, we were confronted with 'lock your doors and take your valuables with you' signs. This was not the quaint town we had pictured. We did a lot of driving around the countryside and the landscape was beautiful - and we finally did find many cute little towns that helped us form a much better impression of the area. I can sum up much of Connecticut with this simple statement: If my car went off the road and we crashed, there was a 99% chance I would run into either a Dunkin Donuts, a cemetery, a greenhouse or a person of Indian descent. This was not a bad thing (well, crashing into any of these things would be bad) especially if you prefer tasty DD donuts to those oil-soaked Krispy Kreme things. And please, no hate mail about that.

Kind of like a haunted house...begging me to enter

The race was actually in Middlebury; across the state from Waterbury. It was a 10-minute drive. (Get it, Connecticut is small. Really small). I had shipped my bike in advance because it was easier than travelling with it - and because I am against the extortion that airlines have put me through for 30 years when they tell me that my bike case which weighed 5 pounds more than our suitcase and has handles and wheels requires $150 of extra handling when skis, golf clubs, strollers cost nothing and yet each of these items literally requires 'extra handling'. But I'm not bitter about this injustice...or am I. Anyway, the fine folks at Bicyle Works of Middlebury were gracious enough to accept bike shipments from athletes and would even put the bikes together for a fee. I built my bike right outside the shop on a huge sidewalk in the shade while Janis and her sister cruised Middlebury and checked out the race venue.

For this event, we actually arrived a few days in advance and that made things really relaxed. On Friday morning, the race promoters had an open water swim on the course. It was perfect because I was slated to do a 2500-meter swim and an hour ride. The lake was great - large enough to fit the course into an almost equilateral triangle and water temps that were a bit cooler than my last two open water swims in SC where I had to try out my new wetsuit. The beach was a comfortable size as well. A few dozen swimmers showed up including a good number of the pros and I heard a lot of people complain about how warm the water was for a wetsuit. When someone said something to me, I quipped "when the water is this cold in South Carolina, we get our ice skates out".

I had wondered why the bike times from last year seemed slow, especially the pros. But after riding the first 10 miles of the course out and back, I no longer had to wonder. The course was constantly up and down. And I hadn't even seen the worst of it. Even though I'm not too set on seeing the course before a race, Janis insisted that we should drive the entire bike course (with a short side trip for lunch in the Connecticut 'wine country'). I was glad we did. This would be a 'smart' cyclist's course. Taking advantage of cornering, descending and generally knowing when to hit it and when to gradually stretch the effort out. I would have a minimum speed of 8.5mph on a climb (I remember it vividly) and a max speed of 49mph on a descent (on a winding back road!). Miles 23-29 were a long gradual climb of nearly 1,000 feet. Not brutally steep - but brutally relentless.

My prerace recon mission revealed a challenging bike course. No PR's at this race

Revolution3 - or Rev3 - is a race promotion company that came into existence last year. It was created my multiple Ironman winner Heather Gollnick. I actually did a long training ride with Heather a couple of years ago when she stayed in Greenville for a few days. She was looking for someone to ride with and our mutual friend Gail Kattouf hooked us up. We shared what I thought was a mutual 'frustration' with the Ironman corporation and I think that's what ultimately led her to start her own race series. She wanted to be all the things that Ironman wasn't - more athlete-focused, better prizes/money, more family friendly. I'm glad to see that her efforts have come to fruition and as a 'non-fan' of Ironman, I wanted to be sure and support her by adding this event to my calendar. She did not disappoint. In my opinion, a much better experience all the way around than I've had at Ironman events in the past. And considering this is only her second year, I struggled to find just a couple of points of constructive criticism. I highly recommend a Rev3 event for you athletes out there. But don't expect an easy race along the coast where drafting runs rampant ;-)

Registration was as painless as any registration has ever been for a race this size. I felt a bit like a movie star when they not only took my photo but when I went to rack my bike, they took a photo of my bike as well. They said it was for security purposes but my bike - who is not camera shy at all - believes it was because she is beautiful. Three helicopters filled the air beaming live pictures to the gargantuan jumbo-tron TV set up at the race site. This was definitely cool. They say TV adds ten pounds; this 2-story bohemoth added about 200.

"Ladies and gentleman...feast your eyes on the amazing Jumbo-tron where you will see G-Man larger than you ever really wanted to"

As I mentioned in the beginning of this report, the weather was uncommonly (and eerily) similar to SC weather; hot, humid and a constant chance of pop-up thunderstorms. Race day forecast was an 80% chance of thunderstorms! We had to rack our bikes the afternoon before the event - some people have differeing opinions about this but I really don't mind either way. I have to hope that they won't lose my bike because it's irreplaceable. Not because of monetary or sentimental value, but because they stopped making most of my bike's parts during the Cold War. What I found funny was that with the chance of rain, most people had covered their seats and handlebars with an assortment of plastic bags and tarps. I'm not sure they realize this, but not only will a wet seat and handlebars NOT affect their ride but I'm guessing after swimming...these things will get wet as soon as they get on their bikes on race day. I, on the other hand was one of the few people who covered the correct thing - my drive chain. Keep the chain/cogs/deraillers covered my friends. A chain washed clean of oil will ceratinly affect your ride.

Look -sniff- it's the bike in the bubble...

Race morning came and the skies were cloudy but not very threatening - a good sign. This was easy to see because up here, the sun was already up at 5:15 am (that would make for some awesome early morning runs...if it wasn't for that thing up here they call 'Winter'). Parking was easy, plentiful and close to the venue thanks to excellent volunteers working the parking area. The good news in the transition area was that Rev3 was using slotted wheel holders that sit on the ground to hold bikes as opposed to the tall, metal racks that you 'hang' your bike on. The ground system makes the area cleaner and easier to navigate. It also makes sure that the bikes are evenly spaced apart and that everyone has a very specific numbered slot. One of the few criticisms I had for the event was simply that they put the rows too close together and you could hardly fit two people side by side between rows. This made the transition area a bit of a mob scene in the morning. I am usually so organized but I felt like I was missing something as I left my bike for the last time before the start. I got some pretty funny looks as I pumped up my race tires using just my 15+ year-old hand pump instead of the 'Jet Air 9000 Semi-Automatic, Rocket-Powered Floor Pump' used by most of my fellow competitors. I would come to remember later that I forgot to put my Rudy Project sunglasses in the transition...

That's a lot of bikes. And check out that bicep - that's not Photoshopped

Now just because I don't mind the heat, doesn't mean I'm going to invite it right in. I saw some people putting on their wetsuits like 30+ minutes before their start. Wetsuits are wonderful things in the water...on land, they are like wearing your own personal sauna; complete with a touch of clostrophobia. The pros left well ahead of everyone else at 6:50 and 6:53 (men and women). The first amateur wave was at 7:03 and my wave was at 7:12. When the pros took off, I was still sitting in a quiet spot without my wetsuit on. Not getting overly anxious is a great thing on race morning, unfortunately what I forgot to figure into the equation was that as soon as the pros took off, nobody was allowed in the water to warmup. I just wanted to splash around for 5 or 10 minutes. No go. At least I was able to sneak into knee-deep water so as to get my suit and goggles wet before the start. Looks like my warmup will have to take place during the race.

I'm so relaxed before the start that I forget to put the rest of my wetsuit on until the instant they call my wave to the line...and they're off!

The time finally arrived and the gun went off for our wave. As usual, I was the 'last man standing'. Literally. I walked out as far as I could before eventually giving in to the need to actually swim. With a group of about 70 and a fairly narrow beach, it was one of the more 'aggressive' swim starts I've been in. In local and regional events, I typically start in an 'elite' wave where most of the swimmers immedaitely leave me to swim unencumbered by other humans. Today, I would swim with a group that was closer to my swim speed and that meant a few elbows, some kicks and one guy who grabbed my leg as he stroked (I gave a good kick and that was the last time he came near me). Although I was in the midst of a good number of swimmers throughout the swim, I really only had occasion to bump into people 3 or 4 times after the first 100 meters. My straight swimming didn't fail me either - I swam within about 7 feet of every bouy without ever having to adjust my course. And their buoys were lined up impeccably. Euclid himself couldn't have created a better triangle. What makes the swim so weird is that I have no perception of time. All I have to gauge where I am is at what point in the swim I start seeing different colored swim caps. In this case, they were pink, they represented the women who started 3 minutes behind me and it took them a bit longer than I expected for their 'leader' to pass me. I was encouraged by this and also by how much more comfortable I've felt in the water this year. People aren't having to drag me up onto the shore. That's not a joke; I have quite a few stories of races where I haven't even been able to hoist myself up onto a floating dock after the swim.

When you have size 13 feet, you learn the very useful 'wetsuit dance' in order to get the suit over your jumbo flippers

Now is as good a time as any to share today's goal times. I have a couple of 'magic numbers' in a half-iron event. The biggest is the 4:30 barrier. This is not so much a goal as it is a self-impossed standard. I know that if I break this mark I am most likely near the top of the results and certainly hard to beat by other 45-year-olds. In 8 or so half-irons, my fastest race has been a 4:18 and my slowest race has been a 4:32...so far. Even after viewing the difficult bike course, I still thought it was possible to eclipse this mark. I gave myself plenty of breathing room on my bike estimate, knowing that I was going to really try to stifle my effort a bit in order to have a good run. I planned a 34:00 swim / 2:30:00 bike / 1:24:00 run and 2:00 for transitions. That's an aggressive run and transition but I have met those marks before. Back to the race...I climbed out onto the boat ramp and glanced at my watch; 34:44. 45 seconds down is manageable but my surprise was in how long it took me to transition. The run up to T1 was moderately long but when I got there, it was a bit tough navigating everyone's stuff so close together. Also, I am used to having all kinds of room since my bike is usually racked with the elite group (and their bikes are usually all gone by the time I exit the water). I couldn't even find a place to toss my wetsuit. By the time I was taking off on my bike, it was somewhere around 37:30. Although I was 2:30 down on my goal, I didn't really give it a second thought. I was about to get to RIDE MY BIKE!

The bike start is hard; I have to make sure not to make the jump to warp speed until I'm clear of innocent bystanders

Let me just begin with...YEEHAAAA! I was instantly flying. I glanced down to see 150 on my HR monitor and this was both good and bad. Good because the heart was ready to go - bad because I could not afford to make the same mistake I made last month at the Charleston Half where I rode the first 45 minutes at 150 HR when I was supposed to keep my HR between 130 and 140. That mistake came back to bite me hard during the run. I actually stopped pedaling for a few seconds, took a few breaths and allowed my HR to come down to 140. Then I settled in. The challenging course was the most fun racing my bike I'd had in a while. And keeping my HR lower than I could go, meant that it never got miserable. The road was either up, down, twisting or turning. It kept it exciting the entire time. Even though there was a lot of climbing and my power has been a concern for me lately, I easily made up for it with bike handling skills and experience. When the road is dry, there is hardly a turn out there that I can't make without hitting my brakes. I would catch people slowly on the climbs and descents, but I would literally leave wind burn on people because they would not carry their momentum through turns, curves and over rolling hills. I remember being at mile 20 before I finally reached a point where I could not see a rider up the road for short periods. Only twice did I see anything that could even be remotely construed as drafting - and on this course I couldn't imagine it being efficient unless you found someone who both climbed and descended exactly the same as you. Otherwise, someone would be holding back. No - on this course, there was no opportunity for cheaters.

Around mile 35, a 31-year-old passed me up a hill. I wondered where he came from since he had to start minutes ahead of me in the swim. A minute later, I passed him back by carrying my momentum up the next hill. He passed me one last time and pulled away. I was still catching people and felt good so I didn't give it another thought. On the approach to mile 50 was about 3 miles of fast and twisting downhill. I made a lot of riders nervous as I swooped by in curves - still in my aerobars - at 45+ mph. By the time I reached the bottom, I had run back up on my 31-year-old friend. Just like before, we each took a turn passing the other before he pulled away. He was about 100 yards ahead of me when we dropped down another quick descent that had a curve at the bottom and then a short climb. I full-steamed it down to the bottom where I saw him slow down and get out of his aerobars. I slammed it through the curve and rode up the hill at full speed, instantly putting 30 seconds or more on him. This is how it had been all day for me. I maintained my momentum the final miles into the transition area and stopped my watch. A quick glance revealed a ride of about 2:27:00. If I was to break 4:30 - with a 1:24 run - I would have to be running by 3 hours and 6 mintues. I was at 3:06:55 as I began the last piece of my adventure. I would come to find out later that my bike split was the 2nd faster amateur ride of the day AND my average HR was only 136. Well played.

Sooo, the story could end like a fairy tale; with me running just under a 1:24 half marathon and still cracking the 4:30 barrier. And beleive me - it COULD have. In transition, I grabbed the GU's and my number - which I leave in my running shoes and ran out. Once I was under way, I put my GU's in my pocket, strapped my race number around my waist and put my swim cap...hey, how did I end up with my swim cap in my hand? 'Abondoning' equipment on the course is penalty so it looks like my swim cap was going to get a 13.1-mile tour of Middlebury.

That's 10 steps...only 22,870 left

I had spared enough energy so that when I started the run, I felt well within myself. I also felt a dull pain in my right foot (more on that later) and a small pebble in my left shoe. And although I was not tracking my miles exactly, my first mile was in the 6:30 range...and so was my second...and my third. I was here to PLAY, BABY! Uh, that is until mile 4. Oh no, I still FELT great...I just had no idea that we would have to run up the side of a MOUNTAIN. Seriously. I was so gald that I had not previewed the run course. If I had, It might have mentally killed me during the early parts of the race. In this case ignorance truly was bliss. Although I have to make a sidebar that the course was beautiful. Heavily treed and as much variety as the bike course was. I continued to run people down; some kills came quick and others were slow and methodical. There was a small pebble in my left shoe. A couple of sections of the climb were steep enough so that I felt like walking would not be any slower. As a matter of fact, I passed a guy walking up one of these sections. I was 'running' and barely passing him. One thing that really keeps me going is knowing that every person I pass is glancing at my right calf to see my racing age...46...that has to take it out of some people mentally. At mile 6, I passed a 41-year-old. It had taken me 2 miles to catch this guy but as soon as I did, he dropped off the pace almost instantly. If a guy passed me with a 54 on his calf I know it would put a chink in my armor...There was a small pebble in my left shoe.

The aid stations, turn marshals and all the volunteers in general were unbelievable all day. They didn't just stand there - they had been coached for maximum support. At mile 8, I switched from drinking water to drinking flat soda. There was a small pebble in my left shoe. A bit of sugar and caffiene the last few miles works well if you don't start too soon (otherwise, you will have a sugar 'crash' and I think the name says it all). During the course of the run, the athletes had been nice enough to space themselves out just far enough apart as to give me a new target every so often. From mile 8 to 9, I chased down a female pro. I closed in on her just as we passed close to the start/finish area so there were plenty of spectators lining the streets. I had the best chuckle of the day as I watched all the guys heaads turn as she passed. I could have been wearing a clown outfit and I would have gone unnoticed. Of course, in their defense, there's not a lot of space on a 2-piece bathing-suit style uniform to list your sponsors so I'm guessing they were simply trying to 'read' her uniform ;-) The road had been ever-so-slightly-down from mile 9 to 12 and I was still going good, but the climbs had done their damage. There was a small pebble in my left shoe. I had stopped trying to figure out my miles way back at mile 5 and it's a good thing. As I approached the mile 12 sign, my tired brain tried to do 'race math' (which is always dangerous at this point in the race) I was headed for a 4:33. I'll take that. Wait; what's this? The last mile is completely uphill?! My overall pace dropped from somewhere in the low 6:40's to 6:48 just in this last mile. But I was done. And based on the number of people I could see ahead of me on two diferent out-and-back sections, my quest for 4:30 was a pretty lofty goal after all. Did I mention, there was a small pebble in my left shoe?

What an awesome finish chute and venue for the race. If you can read the clock (4:57:29), you'll have to subtract 22 minutes to get my race time

I crossed under the finish banner at 4:57:27...minus the 22-minute headstart for the pros gave me a 4:35:27 - exactly what my watch read. Although the results had me 40 seconds slower. I have to assume it had everyone 40 seconds slower. A two-story-tall photo of me was displayed on the jumbo-tron and since I had a sizeable gap on the next finisher, it stayed up there for a good couple of minutes. Larger than life. Another half-iron done and another strong race. I had some great statistics that left me feeling as strong as I was years ago....

- 2nd fastest amateur bike split
- 2nd fastest amateur bike/run combination. Fastest combo was the amateur winner who beat me by 11 minutes...8 of which was in the swim
- 8th amateur
- 1st 45-49...2nd in my age group was over 25 minutes behind me
- 2 40-year-olds finished :30 and 1:10 ahead of me; no 35-39 or 20-24 amateurs placed ahead of me< br> - Transitions were totaled at 3:55...that cost me a placing or two! Every second counts

On stage to take my 1st place age group award from Ironman great (and race promoter) Heather Gollnick

Race Notes:
* I was almost amazed by my 2nd fastest bike split considering I could have ridden 5 or more minutes faster...but that would have caused me to blow up on the run. A very wise pro triathlete once told me to remember that it is a traithlon and not a bike race. You don't get anything for having the fastest bike split and then not finishing...
* It never rained on us all day (although it looked threatening at times). The day after the race, we found out that towns all around us got downpours, power outages, etc.
* From the time I got on the bike, only one person passed me and stayed ahead of me and that was at the start of the run
* I ate so much for dinner the night before and the morning of the race that I just couldn't stuff another calorie in my face at the start. I never ate anything solid during the race
* Unlike my last half iron where I drank only a half bottle of liquid during the 56-mile bike, I drank two full bottles today
* The dull pain in my right foot had been developing over two weeks. I am currently waiting to find out if it is a stress fracture
* The pro field here was racing for a LOT of money and several dozen top, top pros showed up. We're talking some of the biggest names in the sport (check the results for a who's who of triathlon)

Next Up: By the time I get this report out, I will have done a small 8k running race (Sunrise Run) and then it's up in the air as to what events I might do before my 3rd half-iron race in Wisconsin in July.

Janis, her sister and myself got to enjoy the amusement park and beach the rest of the day as part of the race. What a way to end a great day