Race Report - Challenge Atlantic City (Full AquaBike), June 2015

This was my second time participating in this race, this time as an individual competitor in aquabike instead of doing the first 2 legs of the full relay.

-- Pre-race dinner.  Pre-race dinner.  The food was still good, as last year, but the dinner was a bit misguided.  Relatively few people signed up for the full distance of this event, and those are the racers who I think are accustomed to eating pre-race dinners at triathlons.  The bulk of the participants this year were registered for the half, and I think many fewer participants at that distance go out of their way to show up to race sites days ahead of time, so they weren't in town yet for the dinner (which was held on Friday evening, as it was last year).  I'd estimate there were <100 people in attendance in a room that might accommodate 400.  I have to say, however, that this year's speaker, Kristy, who is one of my training mates, was more enjoyable to listen to.  She still had a tough story to tell, as did John Blazeman's father last year, but in the end it was a nice message of stay strong and be good to your fellow racer, which the Blazeman story couldn't match.

Now leading up to this race, my training went from putting-all-the-quality-I-had into it, to skipping workouts and kinda just clocking in and out.  I didn't like my saddle, but I didn't do anything about it.  I wanted additional speed, so I decided to lower my handlebars without any input from my coach.  I tried to borrow an aero helmut from a couple of friends, but my freakishly-large head prevented this.  I wanted to wear my tri club's kit, and the shorts arrived only 2 days before the event, so I never got to try them out for suitability for a long ride before race day.  So when I got to AC and found my rear wheel wouldn't hold air for longer than 7 h, I was both concerned I'd end up DNF'ing the race and also somewhat non-plussed by it.  I took a look at the expo for a new 650 tubular tire, which I knew damn well they wouldn't have.  I also looked into renting a wheel, being pretty sure they would not have the size I needed.  While there I ran into a guy doing a last-minute rental for the same reason, but he got lucky since he rolls 700's.  I found a man selling an aero helmut and since it went on my head I bought it.  Later I wondered whether it might be too small.  More on that later.

-- The weather on Saturday was CRAZY.  It was reasonable in the morning - starting to drizzle when we headed out for the pre-race swim.  But the wind picked up a lot during brunch, and when it came time to drop our bikes off in transition, it was POURING, sideways.  Bikes were being blown right off the transition racks.  Some people were strapping their bikes to the racks with bungee cords to prevent this.  I double-bagged my gear and placed it open-side down, so the rain wouldn't come in through the opening and simply hoped my bike would even be there in the morning.  Photos were being posted to Facebook of tents being knocked down.  Then I heard that porta-potties were being blown over.

-- Race morning.  The next morning I arrived at transition to find the parking lot a swamp, under inches of water.  But I was happy to find that my tire was somewhat firm, meaning it held air better/longer than the prior couple of days (maybe the stem was loose?).  And I was impressed by the amount of work that occurred in the wee hours of the day to set up tents and blow up arch-ways which all combined to make transition look race-ready.  I blew up my tires and took my pump back to my car (which I'd parked at Bader field overnight), where I hung out eating my breakfast (bagel) and gathering my thoughts.

The race was a little late to get started, with people having difficulty getting there due to roads blocked with debris.  Based on all the branches I saw on the sides of the bike course, I'd say there was much to do before they could even open the course.  This year the national anthem was sung live, and there was no Navy Seal parachute drop.

Two some-what rectangular loops made up the
swim course this year.  No, I did not swim up
onto land!  

No matter.

Last-year's Y-shaped course.
Black arrows show current direction.
Black circle shows swim start/exit.

10 toes?  Check.  Sure wish I'd
been looking up for this.

-- The swim.  The course was different this year, 2 loops of something like a rectangle versus the single loop Y shape of last year.  The half-distance race started before the full, so there was the excitement of seeing some people come out of the water before the full-distance race began.  I did something uncharacteristic, and lined up at the front.  Thankfully the race was wetsuit legal, because the bay was no less laden with current than last year.  Starting out and heading south, I had a tough time holding my line and seemed to be getting displaced toward shore.  (That's toward shore, not onto the shore as my Garmin track would have you believe.)  Crossing the bay was fine, then going north it quickly seemed like I was on the wrong line.  I mean, I was on the buoy line, but no one else was.  And I thought back to the advice John Kenny posted on ST about the line to follow for the conditions last year and wondered if I should be trying to apply that same strategy now.  At one point I nearly swam into a post; glad I avoided that.  Crossing the course at the north end was no big deal, thankfully, as this was the turn where last year's course was true hell.  But we were further south on this 2-loop version so perhaps that made the difference.  Or, turning left (south) to complete the first lap, it was clear the current was running northward.  I tried to bury my head and shoulders, my swimming equivalent of getting low in a headwind, and went to work.  Strangely, this is where I started catching up to people.  Then going back the other way, with the current, I got dropped again.  Making the final turn to finish the second lap, it was evident that the current had picked up and holy cow, I was ready to be done.  I'm not sure if it was the silt or the salt, but my sinuses had been frying during this swim and now it was going to require another strong effort to close this thing out.  Thankfully there were 3 swimmers ahead of me and when I put my head down I caught up to them and they did all the work to tow me in.  I posted a better swim time this year, but fear that may have been mostly due to the wetsuit.  I stripped from my wetsuit under the fire truck hose and entered the transition tent declaring to my friend Jill, who was the cyclist for the relay team of Emily-Jill-Ashley (#cadencegirlsdoitbetter), that I was done swimming in AC.  Too hard, too demoralizing. 

Last year's bike course, with just over 30 miles using the 
shoulder of the AC Expressway.

This year's bike course was a single loop.  

-- The bike.  Another course change here, in that the major westward portion of the route was moved off the AC Expressway.  The double counter-clockwise loop through downtown Hammonton was removed and changed to a single clockwise loop around the Wharton State Forrest.  These were fantastic changes and really made the course fun to ride.  Additionally, a large percentage of the route was now shaded by trees.
  

Off to bike, I hit the lap button on my Garmin 920 (on my wrist) and the power button on my Garmin 305 (strapped to my handlebars).  A quick check of the 920 revealed no accumulating distance, and I realized I had the GPS set to "off" for biking since I last used the device on the trainer indoors.  I couldn't change that while in multisport mode, so I came to a stop, killed multisport, put the GPS on, started a new bike segment and got rolling again.  But my power and heart rate wouldn't show up, so I stopped again and fiddled with it some more.  This was 2 stops prior to leaving Bader field.  Rolling along, the watch buzzed that power and heart rate were found, but the power kept dropping to zero and then cutting out.  So I stopped again just out of Bader field for more fiddling, and as I started biking again noticed I'd never hit start on the 305 (geez).  I didn't know why at the time, but the power continued to be found and dropped by the 920, causing the watch to buzz every 90 seconds, which was really annoying, so I turned it off.  So much for following my coach's race instructions, which were all based on working to a certain power level for different segments of the course.  (The 305 can't pair with the power meter and as luck would have it, it wasn't paired to the heart rate monitor either.  So my only in-race metric was average speed because the view of other fields was blocked by my aerobar arm rest.)

Biking away from transition, on an old runway strip.

It didn't take long for the headwind to break my spirit.  The 305 said I was averaging 14 mph and I was disheartened by memories of last year and the concern that the wind would turn so there'd be a headwind on the return trip to transition as well.  But I rolled on.  Soon I became aware that the aero helmet I bought was too small, and it was pinching my ears.  But I found that pushing down on the top of the helmet would help briefly.  By the time I got to the start of the lollipop section my right hip was killing me, which returned my thoughts to my slow re-bound after the marathon and that maybe I needed to give up marathoning and 140.6 mile races.

Then things got a bit lonely, which was to be expected on a single-loop course with so few long course athletes and now that I was beyond the point shared with the half-distance participants.  But it was a nice ride now that my hip stopped feeling so crampy.  There were two aid stations and I got bottles of water at each of them, having to stop to take the lids off since volunteers were only expecting to hand off closed bottles.  (My nutrition strategy involved diluting caked powder on the go instead of swapping out bottles of water or poweraide.)  What I didn't get was a banana, which I had assumed would be provided and was counting on to make up my calorie intake.  What is it with bananas this year, was there a shortage?

Giving my neck a little rest by hanging my head down.

As near as I could tell, there were head winds or cross winds on virtually every segment of the course.  I know it sounds like that shouldn't be possible, but I'm saying it is.  Ergo, I endeavored to stay in aero as much as possible, even though my neck was becoming extremely sore from the position and the front part of my saddle was doing rude things to my body.  There came a time when the discomfort from this was so pronounced that I took to moaning, and the closer to transition I got, the more the moaning turned to pronounced grunting.  I'm sure I was a source of mild bemusement for the many police officers that were doing a fantastic job of directing traffic at intersections. 

The bike course started and ended by making use of the air strips of Bader field, and I loved biking all out on that to finish up.  Unfortunately I had to hit the brakes hard to make the 90 degree turn to the aquabike finishing arch.  An announcer said my name as I came in, and that was that.  Yay there was a finishing arch and announcement for aquabikers this year, but boo about no finishers photo.  I would have LOVED one of me coming in hot on the airstrip. There was also no obvious food.  They said there would be, but I didn't see it, or beverages.

My sunburn 4 days later, with lots of sweat blisters
after cycling class.  This was so uncomfortable!

My first stop was over to the side to lie down.  Yeah, seems to be a theme with me.  Here, though, my issue was how badly my neck hurt, and I just wanted to fully relax it.  Turns out I came in right after my tri team mate and swimming lane partner, Therese.  And Jill was there to great us after having put in a fantastic job on the bike herself.   A volunteer approached me to ask if I was ok, to collect the timing chip from my ankle, and to hand me a finisher's medal.  Turns out my club shorts are really low-waisted and combined with the top that rides up, my lower back was exposed.  I scored quite the tramp stamp sunburn in this race.

-- Triathlon finish line.  After packing up my things I met Jill back over at Boadwalk hall, where I picked up my finisher's shirt.  This year the food cart was outside on the boardwalk, which made it possible to stay a part of the action.  Food in hand, we moved to the finish line, where we joined Matt, Jack, Emily, and Mark cheering on the Cadence athletes on the run.  There was music, a beer garden, and computers that you could type in a participant's number to see how they were doing.  My results were surprising: 1st in AG.  Prior to this I actually did not know how I did, since I'd turned off my 920 and hadn't started the 305 right away.  Much to my amazement, I'd earned a new bike split PR, which was 30 min faster than the others in my division.

-- Results.  
     S: 1:39:29, 2:35/100 m.  
     T1: 7:51.
     B: 6:25:01, 17.45 mph.
     Overall time: 8:12:28.

Comparing splits to all full-distance participants, including all relay teams for overall count and all-female relay teams for gender count:
     S: 7/10 AG, 41/66 Gen, 185/241 OA.
     B: 3/9 AG, 22/58 Gen, 119/225 OA. 

-- Critique.  I had to cut out of town the next morning to head to work, so can't comment on the awards brunch.  But I have read some of the things that people were complaining about with this race and have to say, by and large, it seems to me people are whiners.  2 aid stations on a 112 mile bike is certainly minimal, but can you really not carry enough water to ride 35-40 miles??  It's not like the number of bike aid stations was a secret.  But it sounds like some additional bike support / sag support could have been helpful as several people, my friend Mark included, had race-ending mechanical issues and a hard time getting back to transition.  Additional bike course marshals were needed as well, to help tame the packs of half-distance athletes drafting off one-another.  

Once again, aid stations on the run were negatively impacted by a shortage of volunteers, and this is a shame.  It's also one of the reasons I carry my own water when I run.  The run course crossed some sand, which does seem like an unusual thing for an iron distance race.  Maybe putting carpet on it would have been helpful.  At any rate, I really like this aquabike event and would certainly look to do it in future years.  I'll be quite sad if the full distance event folds, as it would seem likely to do given the lower participation numbers this year than last.

Race Report - Challenge Atlantic City, June 2014

Geezer and the Girl

This was the inaugural running of this 2.4 mi swim, 112 mi bike, 26.2 mi run = 140.6 mi race in Atlantic City, NJ.  This course was announced after I had my big races for 2014 scheduled, but when they opened up a relay option, I convinced my Dad to sign up with me.  Local to me, this was going to offer me an excellent long swim-bike workout opportunity as I build for my A-race 5 weeks later.  And since my Dad's motto for running is "will go far for flat", it was a neat way for him to be a part of triathlon for a day.  (That makes more sense when you understand he lives in Georgia.)

-- Race organization/details.  In the big scheme of things, this was like the other long/ultra/ironman courses I've done and was run equally as well.  A couple of differences included: a slightly lower price tag (for those registered as individual competitors); an easier and less time-consuming race check-in procedure; longer hours available to do race check in and bike check in; a venue that is not going to sell out of rooms; rooms with no minimum stay requirements; and without the registration-will-sell-out-in-a-day frenzy of some other races, you've got time to contemplate your life and ability to fit this event in without such a gamble as a 12-14 month ahead-of-time sign-up.  Also important to many people, the Challenge Family welcomes the athlete to cross the finish line with their family members.  WTC, who runs the Ironman-branded races, does not allow this.  I also want to point out the superb customer service presented by the event directors.  No question went unanswered without enthusiasm.

-- Course overview.  Topographically, this was a different course for me.  I like hills.  I like the variety of positioning on the bike they provide.  I like the landscape they frequently possess.  I may be Southern Californian by birth, but I'm not a fan of the beach - give me mountains.  From this point of view, I don't particularly find this course impressive.  It certainly has its attractive sections, but I would personally not travel a far distance for this scenery.  However, for those people who want a flat course, I have to think this one provides a nice alternative to IM Florida.  (But I don't claim to actually know what I'm talking about, having never seen that course.)  With a beautiful beach adjacent to the run and some amusement park rides up the boardwalk a bit, it certainly does offer your family something to do while you are off biking for hours and hours. 

-- Pre-race pump up.  The parachute drop by the Navy Seals was extremely cool.  But I'm not going to lie, Mt Tremblant also had an impressive air display and an overall much more amped environment, and still sits as the most dramatic race start I've been a part of.

Black arrows show current.
Black circle shows swim start/exit.

-- The swim course was a single-loop Y-shape run in the counter-clockwise direction in the back bays of AC.  I'll get straight to the point - this was extremely difficult.  The current pouring in from the ocean under the AC Expressway bridge made this the single most difficult swim I've ever done.  I train with plenty of open-water 1.2, 2.4, 3.0 mi swims in lakes, bays, and rivers; this was freaking hard.  The water was reported as 80 degrees but the race directors opted to allow a wetsuit wave which many people joined.  There were reports of difficult sighting due to the sun, but I had no problem sighting off the shoreline which the course followed.  Others complained of dirty water but they may not realize that just about all swims in NJ (that I've done) are silty like that.  The swim started at low tide and the course was shallow in places; some people opted to aqua-jog rather than swim.  I failed to lubricate properly for a non-wetsuit salt water swim and was chaffed well before the half-way point.

-- The swim exit & T1.  The bay is not a normal swim venue.  Floating docks were put in place with small floating ramps you had to swim up to get out.  This was strange.  I was so spent getting out of the water, and the dock was bouncing, that I was afraid of standing up for fear of falling over.  So I walked my transition to land (grassy field) instead of running it.  And I pouted all the way to the tent, stopping for awhile to shower off under the firetruck-supplied fresh water.  While I recognized the unusual difficulty of the swim and was in fact proud of myself for completing it without a wetsuit, I was mortified by my time: my worst finish by 9 minutes and 30 min slower than I expected.  My T1 was also terribly slow.  It's like I aimed to punish the bad swim by having an equally bad transition.  This was dumb.  But I was so exasperated trying to put my arm covers on over damp skin (sun protection) that I just hung my head in my towel for awhile and tried to calm down.  Ultimately, I did not do an adequate job reapplying sunscreen and would later find my back badly burned. 

Nice personalized bike rack spot.

-- The bike course was great (for a flat course).  Well-marked, well-supported with aid, and police at almost all intersections.  Mix of surperb expressway pavement, tree-shaded roads, and business and farm roads.  We rolled twice through the little downtown of Hammonton which was set up beautifully like a professional ride was coming through.  We biked by a scenic lake and several blueberry fields (which are not quite as pretty as they sound).  As feared, the wind direction was such that the last 28-30 mi were directly into a head wind (11-17 mph) which was a tough pill to swallow.  I remember hitting mile 106 in Wisconsin and crossing over from this-is-ok to I'm-so-over-this like the flip of a switch.  I was pleased to have held this emotion off until mile 107 this time.  I entered transition happy that I felt good from a nutrition point of view, but as a sobbing mess from the fatigue of biking through the wind.

Just over 30 miles of the course used the shoulder of the AC Expressway.

-- T2.  I approached the fenced off "relay pen" to meet my Dad.  I was apparently in the minority of people who showed up when expected based on a predicted arrival time the tracking ap calculated off my 82.5 mi bike split.  I even split the last two bike segments to two decimal places.  I may have been slow, but damn was I consistent.  My Dad took off running while I took my sweet ol' time wiping off, changing clothes, and packing up my bike and gear bags before moving my car back to Bally's and catching up with friends to watch the run.  

-- The run course.  I can't comment too much here as I didn't run it.  The course left Bader field and headed over to the Boardwalk, where 3 laps of various lengths were run before hitting the finishing chute.  I don't think the Atlantic City beach goers had any idea what was going on.  They are used to milling about where ever they please and had trouble grasping that a race was taking place and that they should stay clear of the path.  One guy approached us ranting something about the US going straight to the crapper due to stupid events like this race, which backed up traffic and delayed his travel.  He suggested that we as taxpayers should all be outraged.  All of this will undoubtedly get better in the future as improved event advertising occurs, the general population comes to understand what a long-course triathlon is, and people plan their approaches accordingly.

The course went to the left, southern most end only on the first lap.
The other two laps turned at the middle circle.
The course went to the left, northern most end twice (I think).

-- The finish line.  I'm glad the tracking ap worked well for my Dad who was waiting for me in the hot sun to come in from the bike.  But I wish it also worked for me.  I was watching it, refreshing constantly, awaiting the update that he'd crossed mi 23.5.  Unfortunately I completely missed the "estimated finish" feature and I arrived at the finish line to hear my team name called.  He crossed without me and I was devastated.  We were able to re-enter the back end of the finish area so I could get a participation medal and we asked the photographer to take the picture below. 

Results
S, 2:01:58, pace 3:09/100m
T1, 11:47 
B, 6:50:40, 16.4 mph 
T2, 2:51 
Run, 5:03:32, 11:35 min/mi 
Finish, 14:10:48 (relay place 102/138).

My attitude... I owe almost everyone who interacted with me Sunday some degree of apology.  I forgot what my goals really were for this race and at each moment I thought I didn't meet them, I ran further down the rabbit hole of disappointment in myself and was a poor sport.  My goal for this event was to put in a long training day while demonstrating good nutrition - mission accomplished.  I also wanted that memory of crossing the finish line with my Dad, but catching up with him immediately afterward really was almost just as good.  I needed to remember that I never had the goal of doing well in this race, or at Quassy, or at American Zofingen.  I chose to do these events despite their difficulty b/c I thought those efforts would prepare me well for IM Boulder.  I have 5 weeks to go and my peak training volume weeks are still in front of me.  I will be so much better off for having this great long ride under my belt ahead of race day.  These races were not poor results; they were strategic steps in a larger plan.