Preamble
There was a point earlier this year when it seemed announcements for race registration openings were constant. Ironman has pretty much taken to spamming the heck out of people between "New race announcement coming!", "Registration opens in X days", "Registration is open!", and "It's not too late, spots still remaining in such-and-such race!!" In the past I opted out of marketing emails but that unfortunately impacted email for race(s) I was registered, which could have been really problematic if my friends hadn't been racing the same event(s). So now I just put up with the spam and earlier this year my stance had been: I've already given Ironman $800 (in 2019) for a race in 2020 that never happened (St George), so have no intention of giving them any more until my make-up-race (Couer d'Alene) actually takes place.
Well, sort of. I did jump on registration opening for St George 2022. I still want to get to that 'limited addition' full course.
(Get's back on soap box and waggles index finger): But no other races, at all, until after CDA!
So there I was, out for a run (July 9) once my trauma from excessive heat & sun-exposure following CDA had worn off, when that itch to sign up for something worked its way into my brain. A variety of fulls still had open registration (Wisconsin, Texas - Texas - TEXAS) but I didn't want to fit another build for that distance in around my pending work travel and the real kicker: neither race motivated me to do so. I've already done Wisconsin & loved it, so don't want to do it again unless I can smash my prior time which I was not poised to do this year. Oh, and 'meh' on TX.
Several halfs were available. Should I go for Augusta and work in a visit with my dad? Or the half in Madison as I was likely to be there anyway (sold out). Muskoka could have been a winner but staying within the US boarder seemed the smarter strategy given the on-going Covid landscape. Then I remembered Timberman.
Timberman was one of the New Hampshire courses I'd long wanted to do (along with Mooseman), but had never gotten around to it before Ironman discontinued it (2016). I assume the reasoning for the latter was to avoid poaching their own business away from Lake Placid 70.3, and Old Orchard Beach which they'd just 'acquired' from Rev 3. I wonder if they brought it back just to soak up the americans who had been training for Mount Tremblant (full) which was cancelled ('Covid'). Anyway, I thought it would be great to race at another event bound to have lower registration numbers, was imaging Timberman might be offered as a once and done, and bonus - it would be a fun chance to work in a visit with my friend Marianne up near Boston.
With that plan all laid out and fees already paid, what should hit my facebook feed but notice of a rare opening of limited registration spots for Survival of the Shawangunks, which was looking to back-fill for folks unable to race this year due to... you guessed it: Covid. I had such a tough go of that race, was I anywhere near poised for another crack at it? Eh, probably not.
A few days later, I was out for my long run and I started thinking about SoS. What had gone right, what had gone wrong, what was the same or different now with my training. And more importantly, what would I hope to get out of signing up at this late date, given I'd still be unlikely to do very well this year? The answer: joy in my heart. That's what I really wanted. To do that race with no expectations, no anger for doing poorly, no wondering whether my friends had fallen off a cliff b/c I hadn't seen them, and only with joy in my heart for being there. Oh, and to come out of swim 1 not feeling hypothermic.
- Let's pause for a learning moment: Running is apparently the gateway drug for longer and harder running events.
Anyway, after a quick check in with my coach to ask whether SoS 3 weeks after Timberman would be an enormously bad idea, I laid out another registration fee while noting I still needed to qualify to participate. SoS requires a sub 15 h result at a full or sub 7 h in a half in year 2021, and my time from CDA was off by a metaphorical mile (1 h 26 m). This meant I had to clear 7 h at Timberman.
The race
- Venue: Opechee Park, Laconia, NH
- Swim: Opechee Bay, single loop
- Bike: starts as rolling but grows teeth along the way, ~2900 ft
- Run: almost 2 loops around the lake, then divert for final 5k, 541 ft
Game plan: I started by looking at my 1st half splits from CDA and realizing those were a long way off of a 7 h finish (by >1h). Based on recent runs I'd hoped I could hold a 13 min/mi on the run (I'm still run-walking), and assuming no improvement in swim or transition times, estimated I needed a 3 h bike split to avoid taking this to the wire. I pinged my coach: what wattage will get me there? Answer: well it's kinda impossible for me to answer that. Then there was some semi-fuzzy logic and finally a response 'try 115W'. Great, only problem was I didn't honestly think I could bike a 3000 ft 56 mi ride in 3 h, so my run was going to need to be solid.
Water temp was 76.3° F at check-in, aka super warm and not wetsuit legal.
Swim in counterclockwise direction. - Transition was small, a clue to the number of registrants, well laid out and I had a pretty good rack position not far from the pro's (Rinny & Heather the only two I could name).
- The finish line was nearly a mile in one direction and parking was over a mile in the other, didn't seem that big a deal pre-race.
- No concessions at the park for spectators.
- Weather prediction: air temp 67-74° F, with hurricane Henri due Sunday at 4:30 pm so we'd probably get to finish the race, but you never know.
I stayed in literally the only place I could find, ~20 miles away in Louden. The Quality Inn was convenient enough, albeit a bit ghetto, especially if you're prone to noticing things like heavy dampness, odors, grime at the baseboards, ceiling and wall damage in various states of "repair", gnats hovering at the sink, sounds coming from adjacent room... you know, small things like that (shudder).
Race morning: up at 4:15, out door at 5, parked at 5:40, in transition by 6 & leaving just enough time since I brought my own pump. Transition closed at 6:30 am. Short port-a-john cue then time to don my wetsuit (water temp now 75° was still pretty warm, but wetsuit legal for age groupers). I joined the 40-43 min group for the rolling swim start.
The entire swim was nice. Water seemed clean, not choppy, buoys were easy to spot, and my line was pretty much contact free. I settled in right away, breathing to one side for 4 strokes, taking a glance forward on a 3 count while switching sides, then breathing to the other side for 4 strokes. This kept me more in line than for CDA but I still need to improve. I stood up at 42 min and crossed the mat at 44 after wetsuit removal. Transition, 3:32. No neck pain.
Right away on the bike I came upon a guy swerving all over the place while he fought to get his shoes on. Called out loudly ON YOUR LEFT b/c I didn't want to get taken out. Then he started to pass me on the right and I called him out on his illegal pass. He came back with a 'well if you're gunna pass, pass' and I suggested he put his shoes on in transition and get on his bike ready to ride. To his credit, he dropped back and passed me legally on my left.
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| Bike course. Goes south to Loudon. Then north to ~mi 35 before heading east into steeper climbing. |
The road quality heading out of town was exquisit brand new smooth asphalt and I felt like I made use of primarily 2 gears while riding it: either my lowest one while climbing and trying to not blow up my target wattage early on, or my highest one just before coasting b/c I was going faster than I could pedal on the decents. It was a bit windy and I was looking forward to what I thought would be a tailwind in the other direction. Add inability-to-properly-detect-wind-direction to my inability-to-hold-a-straight-line-while-swimming. Whatever the direction, the gusty crosswinds kept things spicy. Also add in the appearance of bonus neck pain.
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| Bike profile |
There was a mile and a half out-and-back at the NH Motor Speedway, where sections of nice tarmac were broken by harsh segmentation lines (ba-blam) that had me looking forward to the hills where I could sit up and give my neck a rest (ba-blam). Not sure what I hit as I wouldn't think just a groove (ba-blam) would do it, but the aero cover for my front brake (TriRig) went flying off through here. I mighta stopped if I'd known then for sure that's what it was.
Around mile 35 the course takes a right turn and you begin steeper climbing, the kind that makes you check over and over again if there's another lower gear you could possibly shift into. Some folks were walking. And while much of the course had benefit from recent road resurfacing, the long downhill at ~mile 40 was still bumpy and somewhat scary, not to mention the occassional wind gusts. In other words, once in aero you just stay there and f'ing hold on. Hit my top speed through here ('40 mph') and came out of it with another unintended bike adjustment: now instead of an upward tilt to my pads and extensions, my hands and pads were pointing downward. Knock on effects: a) my BTA straw was now just out of comfortable reach, b) steering felt weird with my arms at a different angle, c) nerves felt a little nervy which played out as my becoming increasingly conservative on the remaining decents. Though the last one back to town was once again on gorgeous pavement, it had started to drizzle and fresh asphalt plus fresh rainfall were things I was unwilling to combine with my rattled nerves and (maybe minorly) compromised steering; took that one while sitting as upright as possible.
- Special call-outs: the unmentioned no passing zone by the motor speedway (why on earth not mention this in the athlete breifing??), and the train of people who passed me and others through here.
- The guy on a TT bike blatantly sucking the wheel of the girl on a road bike.
- Cheaters suck!
My bike time (3:30) left me no wiggle room for the run.
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| Counter clockwise 1.75 laps around the lake, then a left / westward turn for the final 5k. |
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| Run profile |
All was good for the first lap (mile 1-5 splits ranged 10:35-11:28), in on-again off-again light drizzle, then around 6 miles in, my calf went wonky. No idea why, I didn't step weird but all of a sudden it felt very strained and I couldn't launch off my right foot. I could put that leg forward and then come up to meet it, but I couldn't even walk normally. There was no way I'd break 7 h if I didn't find a way to get by, so I curled my toes up inside my shoe, tightened my glute as much as possible, and struck with my heal the remaining miles while still trying to take advantage of the down grades to skip walking and make up some time (miles 6-8 ranged 13:21-15:25).
Time to note this was my 2nd M-dot race with randomly generated race numbers and no body marking. ie no way to tell who or even how many were in your AG.
Then a woman passed me who obviously also had something wrong with her gait. At first I watched her go, but I started thinking she might be my age and I wasn't ok with being out-gimped by a lady in my age group. So once I crossed over to the final 5k and she dropped to a walk at the water table, I pressed on hard to mile 12 (splits dropped from 12:22 to 9:45). There I was almost blown off the road by a different lady who came absolutely flying by me; no chance of catching her. Shortly after I came upon a girl who had passed me at the beginning of my strain phase and I tried to motivate her to run with me - she finished right behind me and thanked me for keeping her engaged.
Final time 6:52:25. Mission "sub 7" accomplished.
Afterward
The mile walk from finish to transition, in soaked kit, limping along in the wind and rain, stunk. I was too cold to hang out for food in tents that provided coverage from rain but not shelter from the wind. I wanted to change into dry clothing - I'd brought some - but I'd have gotten wet anyway walking the next mile to the parking lot. I gathered my stuff, which was all alone in the partly disassembled transition area, and headed toward my car.
The chop on the previously-calm bay underscored the scene: we were lucky the storm didn't cancel the race. Some racers were still passing the aid station at mile 10 (where parking was), and I marveled at the volunteers standing in the rain with outstretched arms offering suuport. By the time I got my things in my car and wiggled into dry clothing, the aid station had been completely broken down.
Seat heater: on, interior temp: set to 82, and it still took about an hour to work off the chill.
More #'s:
- Starters: 42 AG, 276 F, 774 people
- Finishers: 36 AG, 249 G, 702 people
- My placement: 22nd AG, 191st F, 573rd
