I love doing new races in their Inaugural year. An even heavier factor in choosing a race is it's geographic location. It was a no-brainer when Ironman Maryland popped up, partway into the 2014 season, to jump on board. I had a lot of fun racing Ironman Florida to close out the 2013 season, leaving me itching for another flat, fast course and this race was calling my name. While never having raced Eagleman 70.3, in the same location, I have heard the legend of the FAST and flat course and tales of its scorching heat. A quick bit of research into The Farmer's Almanac produced a different story; mid-70s to mid-80s are expected in mid-September. The dice were thrown down on the table. I spoke with my coach, Tim Snow, and we put it on the schedule.
I had 8 weeks between IMLP and IMMD, which sounded like an ideal amount of time. The 10 weeks between IMMT and IMFL last year seemed to drag and motivation wavered. Racing 8 hours after a crash in Placid left me utterly spents and slowed my recovery down big time but 3 weeks after placid, I felt I had my legs back. I have been working with Ed Boyle as a masseuse this year and he has taught me a lot about listening to my body. While I don't wish a crash on anybody, and I was lucky to elude major injury, it was an interesting opportunity to be able to watch the body heal after a big race like an Ironman. I know a lot of athletes who throw a big event on the schedule in the same month they complete an Ironman and other athletes who lace up the shoes mid week post-Ironman to "start preparing" for their next adventure. I can speak first hand, watching bruises heal on my body, that your energy levels will return long before the bruises, tiny tears, and strains fully heal. Therefor, I recommend at least one week completely off after a major effort such as an Ironman.
If you know much about me or follow my ramblings, I love sharing these weekends with people. This year was nothing short of incredible as I was able to race side-by-side with a number of good friends as they tackled Ironman Lake Placid. I have also had the opportunity of helping a group of athletes prepare for IMChoo and I cannot thank Jay and Peluso Open Water Swimming enough! For Maryland, one of my college buddies was joining me for his first attempt at the distance. I knew he was in for a good day from the conversations we had over the preceding months and I could not wait to watch him chase his dream.
Ironman can be a stressful event and they best way to race fast is to limit as much stress as possible. I try my best to take care of things ahead of race week and plan to minimize stress leading up to the race. To my surprise, I called our hotel accommodations 2 weeks out from race day to find that we were not even in the system. I called my buddy and told him "don't panic, it wouldn't be an Ironman without a few speed bumps to test you along the way. We don't have a hotel room and Cambridge, MD is beyond booked. He took the reigns and tracked us down a place in Easton, MD about 15-20 minutes from the race site within 24 hours. Big props on that effort as I was prepared to sleep in a hammock or vehicle.
Race Morning: We woke up dark and early at 3:30 to scarf down pancakes with nut butter, nutella, bananas and cinnamon, collect our things, and make it to transition 20 minutes before the mad rush. We were able to get right in at 5:00, set up our gear, double, triple, quadruple check everything and then sit by the river until race start. Nerves never hit me until I was still in a porta potty line 20 minutes before the gun and I could see swarms of people crowding the swim start. Being a swimmer, I had to shove my way to the front of the mass so I wouldn't lose the front swim group. Sure enough, I made it to the front of the group with about 7 minutes to spare. With about 3 minutes until race start, the race director spoke to the front of the swim pack and said, "Just think, at the end of the day, one of you will be an Ironman champion!" For the first time all weekend, I had some nerves churning around and I knew I was ready to let it rip...8 hours from that moment ;)
Swim (0:58:15 1 M25-29/ 9 OA): Strava File
I noticed from the shore that the goggles I ended up wearing were not the best decision. They were a little older than I thought and were a bit scratched on the inside. It was tough to see and they kept fogging quickly despite having treated them with anti-fog the night before. This wasn't a huge deal to me seeing that there was nothing I could do about it at this point and I knew my only goal was to follow the feet of the fastest swim group. All I had to be able to do was follow some bubbles, spot a few buoys, and otherwise go for a ride on the EAC (finding NEMO anybody?) The swim was relatively uneventful and actually somewhat relaxing. I swam with Michael Hoffman, a very strong swimmer who I swam with in Florida last year. We stuck together most of the first lap until he was run into by a kayak and we both had goggle issues. We split and I latched onto another group and they carried my around the rest of the way. It was hard to tell if the buoys were difficult to spot due to my goggles or the slight bit of chop that had developed but I was having a tough time spotting. I relied on the feet of the swimmers in front of me and had to pay special attention when we ran into the back of the AG pack on our second lap. I wanted to make sure I didn't lose my workhorses on the way into the finish. Mission accomplished.
T1 (2:19):
The run to T1 was very short. You pop up on the shore and run about 100 meters tops and you're in the changing tent. The only alarming thing I noticed on the run was the fact that we swam 0:58?! Luckily, I had just enough time to see that the swim was almost 0.1 miles long and chalked it up to my advantage being a swimmer. The mind has a huge impact on performance so I always try to look at the positive side of whatever I encounter.
I am always quick in transition. I don't believe it is a worthwhile place to throw time away. My T1 bags included shoes, helmet, and a flask of UCAN to help replenish some of the caloric deficit I developed from being in the water for an hour. The flask allowed me to truly start my bike feeling "topped off." I knew I came into T1 around 8th place and I had no idea where I was coming out. All I knew is that it was a no-nonsense transition.
Bike (4:48:15 1 M25-29/ 8 OA): Strava File
My only goal on the bike was to allow myself to settle in for the first hour. I got too into the race in IMLP and pushed way too hard for the first two hours, digging myself in a hole the rest of the ride. Same story in IMFL last year. I started to cruise out on the course and only watched my HR. It was a tad elevated from the swim and spectator support, as expected. I tried to breathe easy and deep, I tried physical therapy exercises to position my diaphragm and round my back, and I paid no attention to other athletes which was far easier than I expected; I was alone for the first 2.5 hours. Alone isn't exaclty correct, I had one athlete pass me inside of the first 60 miles and I was able to keep him in sight around the bends down the road. I was really nervous opening up the bike alone because I kept questioning if I was even on the course anymore. Sure enough, course tape and a spectator here and there allowed me to realize that all was well. A few spectators that were out on runs kept us up to speed on our position. I was really surprised to hear that I was sitting in 3rd overall. My first conversation with a runner went along these lines: "Nice work man, you're in third!" "What?! Third or 13th?" "Third, go get 'em!" "Damn, I think he said third. Cool!"
Long, flat courses are often best raced by the athlete that stays the most mentally in check. Whoever can hold a nice, aero position while keeping steady power on the pedals, will be handsomely rewarded with a nice bike split. The beauty of the course, my course-specific training, and some serious work on my position allowed me to do exactly that. Anytime I was about to sit up or lose focus, the course changed from a swamp to an ocean view or dipped into a forest, or opened onto a screaming section of road that demanded my attention. I rode the first hour about 15 watts under goal wattage and picked things up for the second hour which ended up being my most demanding hour of the race. I dropped the pace a little bit, hoping to cross a timing mat and get everybody excited who was tracking the race.
I always use my special needs stop to pick up bottles that I have mixed using Infinit Nutrition. As I rolled into the special needs stop, around mile 60, a group of ~8 guys caught me. I made a quick stop for about 20-30 seconds and left at the tail end of this group. It was nice to have company on the road and actually feel like I was in a race. When I was by myself I was able to race my own race and pace however I wanted, but it felt like I was running away from the pack that was inevitably forming behind me. Once this group caught me, I was able to relax a little bit and pace off of the group knowing that as long as I held contact, I'd start the run at the front of the race, with the main contenders.
The second loop of the ride was nothing to write home about. We picked up a few riders up the road and one or two more caught us from behind. People were pretty good about keeping their distance although there were times when the group got too close so we would try to jostle things out and stay legal. There certainly is still an advantage at the legal distance but it is what it is. In the last 5 miles heading into transition, things started to split up a little. People were getting antsy and everybody wanted to be the first person off the bike. That being said, nobody surged, the pace was pretty easy, and we all took care of last minute items like peeing, finishing off our nutrition, and eyeing each other nervously. It was as if everybody was trying to gauge how much the other athletes had damaged their legs on the ride, while trying to be discrete about their inquiries. The ride concluded with a mass of spectators who were cheering us all home.
T2 (1:57):
This transition was a bit rushed. The changing tent was packed and high-strung. Any slight time savings here could go a long way deep in the marathon. Again, I kept a phrase in mind that I picked up from some local Richmond guys. "Think slow, move fast." I also remembered the words of Jessie Kropelnicki about adding as little stress to your system as possible and was sure to hit the sunscreen volunteers on my way onto the course. In what felt like a blink of an eye, I was starting the run in 4th place overall and 3rd place had exited the tent just ahead of me.
Run (3:21:19 2 M25-29/ 4 OA): Garmin Connect File
I can only describe the opening miles of the marathon as some of the most high strung racing I have ever been a part of. Within the first 0.25 miles of the course, the top three athletes M25-29 were shoulder-to-should, locking down places 4-6 in the race. We didn't look at each other, we didn't talk to each other, we didn't give each other an inch as we blew through aid stations, and most outrageous of all, we were flying! Running felt easy and the heat of the competition was easy to fall victim to but at some point I had to decide that this grueling pace was not sustainable. Check the splits and see for yourself!
I was trying to talk myself out of this horrible decision but it was very tough to consciously let the only Kona slot we had run away from me this early in the race.
Being so early in the race was a major piece that allowed me to finally pull the plug. At about mile 2.5, I passed Matt Shanks on the side of the road and felt like I was in a situation similar to what he described in his killer race at Challenge AC. In his race, people started lighting up the early stages of the marathon and he made a decision to let them destroy their legs and catch them late in the race. As I passed Matt, I dropped slightly behind the two guys I was running with and gave him a shoulder shrug, trying to silently convey, "WTH are we doing? This is dumb, right?" Without words I could tell he was helping me decide to let them go. I decided to start to drop my HR just a tad and see how that worked for me. I started to back off of this group ever-so-slowly and let the other two guys edge away. It took a while before they realized I was gone and it was cool to see the look of surprise they had. I watched them start shaking out their arms and doing all kinds of odd movements to prepare to go to battle one-on-one.
Whether they thought I was hurting or not is only know by them but I decided to pull the plug on that suicide pace and start running my own race. By the time we reached the turn around at mile 3.5, they were a touch ahead of me and I was sure to look stone cold as we passed each other. My mental conversations were: "That pace isn't sustainable for the entire run. Run your own race and let them put pressure on each other. One or both of them will crack at some point and you can sweep up the mess in a few hours as the run is closing out." I wasn't exactly sure if I believed that or not but it was all I could hold onto for the time being. I saw Matt within a half mile of the turn around and he looked happy to see that I had let those guys go. It was the best decision I could make at the time. The miles ticked by and at each turn around I could see these guys putting a hurt on each other and more distance on me. I was starting to seriously doubt my decision by about mile 15. They were still looking good and the distance was still creeping up.
One of the nice features of the three loop course, was the fact that we ran by spectators often. There was another QT2 athlete spectating who I had not met before but he was a major contributor in lifting my spirits for the entire run. Each time I ran by him, he was amped up. He kept telling me to run my own race, let these guys destroy each other. The next time I saw him it was "You're looking great, they're starting to crack, keep running steady." After that, "The front of the race has blown, it's up to you how many of them you are going to run through. You look great man!" Huge props to Andy Salmon for keeping my head in the game!
I saw my buddy Mongan around mile 17 of the run, just after I had turned around to start my final loop of the course. He was looking great and as we crossed paths, I used the lift he had given me to start to really dig. I told him how great he was looking and that I was chasing down 5th place as we spoke. One of the two guys in my AG had overreached and was coming back to me quick! I went by him at about mile 18 and crossed my fingers that there were two slots. My gameplan suddenly changed. I had been running on the edge most of the day, at higher heart rates than I have ever held through an Ironman. I was feeling smooth, and fleet-footed. It was time to let it go. As I passed this guy, I made sure to run by looking easy, at a pace a bit faster than his. I didn't want to overreach and mess up my race in the last hour of running so I started walking a very fine line. I ran hard enough to start dropping the pace a bit and made sure to slow down through aid stations to get the nutrition I needed. I'd start to lift again and if I became unsure about my pace, I'd back off just a touch. It was like I was walking to the edge of a cliff and backing up over and over.
Out of nowhere, around mile 19 or 20, I saw the 3rd place mountain bike sitting on the edge of the road. As I ran by, he started following me and asked if I was on my final lap. I was really confused as I hadn't passed any of the guys ahead of me. Turns out, they were taking care of business in the port-a-potty when I came through so I had run myself into 3rd overall without even knowing it. I took a moment to reflect on my patience. I had made a good call early in the race and I was reaping the benefits. I was one proud dude. I ran behind the bike for about 20-25 minutes and it was an entirely different experience. I had tons of athletes and spectators commenting and cheering me on, telling me to go catch 2nd and to keep running strong. I thought to myself, "Man, I'm drawing a lot of energy from this at a time when I really need it. I should just do this all the time ;)" My favorite comment was "Man, you're flying can I put my timing chip around your ankle?" That one even got a chuckle out of the too-tough-Terry I was embodying.
Around mile 22, a dude came flying by me and took the cyclist with him. From there to the finish, he put about 4-5 minutes on me. It was obvious when he went by that he was just having an entirely different day than I was and I needed to let him go.
I was still sitting 4th overall and 2nd in my AG so I went on damage control. The miles were still ticking by consistently despite the monumental effort I was laying down. To finish the race, you run past the transition zone, another 1-1.5 miles through town and then complete an out and back that is approximately 0.75-1.25 miles in total. Heading away from the finishing chute was tough mentally but I didn't have a lot of time to think about how I'd rather be done. A mile that was my slowest by about 20 seconds allowed a lot of the gap I had developed to vanish. I could almost feel a group of guys breathing down my back.
I so badly wanted to take in the day and enjoy the last mile but that was not an option. This was going to be a battle right to the end. I reached the end of the out and back and figured I had a good 20-30 seconds on the group. All I had to do was hold it together for another half mile and all would be well. I started to dig and dig, finding a whole new level of hurt as the chute seemed to ignore my efforts to reach it. I'd work hard for a minute, and look back to check the gap which was still closing. I had 2-3 guys behind me that simply would not give up. Turns out there were all duking it out for their AG slots. Regardless, I had to run HARD all the way through the chute and you can see just how close things got toward the end in the finish line photos. To put it all in perspective, 47 seconds slower would have dropped me form 4th to 7th; that's how tight of a race it was on the run. That could have been walking an aid station, poor nutrition leading to GI issues, overreaching early on the run, the wrong helmet or wheel selection. It's insane to think that over the course of a 9.5 hour race, such minute things can lead to such a substantial difference.
Overall (9:12:05 2 M25-29/ 4 OA)
All day, I felt like I was fighting for a 9:20ish time considering the slow swim and all. When the clock came in sight and read 9:11, I was sure that something was wrong and maybe there was another out and back somewhere that I was unaware of. This was not the case. I was able to reach the line seconds after it flipped over to 9:12, giving me a 16 minute PR over Florida last year. I couldn't believe it! QT2 never fails to set me up!
My buddy's girlfriend Steph had carried all our stuff around all day and proved to be an incredible help even though it was her first time on sherpa duty. She had my phone waiting for me so I could call my mom and my sister right away and get in touch with some of my friends and family that were following the race.
The amount of support was purely overwhelming. It took me about an hour to catch up on facebook posts, messages, and texts after the race was over. Even after that, things kept flooding in. I wanted to call everybody that was on my mind all day but I also wanted to watch the race and enjoy the aftermath. I cannot thank everybody enough and you have no idea how much your support means to me. When I race, I feel as if I'm racing for so much more than what this sport means to me. It feels as though I'm racing to represent the group of people that I train with, coach with, and share stories with. I feel like I'm carriyng everybody that has helped me get to this point with me through the course. When things get dark, I think of coach and other people who have believed in me. I was stoked to have broke 9:30 last year. I never thought I'd be a stones throw away from the 9 hour mark. The fact that so many of my people suppoort me, encourage me, and send me kind words along the way is what allows me to accomplish so much more than I ever believed I could. Usually a solid race like this leaves me thinking, "Dang, how am I ever going to go faster than that." That's not the case with this one. I feel like this race opened my eyes to my true potential. Thanks for keeping my mind and body in check out on the course X2Performance! I know my buddy used it as a key part of his killer race as well! Time to close out the season with a few more efforts and then put the feet up and get fat. Thank you Maryland for allowing me to start my redemption of IMLP. If that course thinks I'm done with it, it has a big surprise in store. Until next time, let's get after it!
I had 8 weeks between IMLP and IMMD, which sounded like an ideal amount of time. The 10 weeks between IMMT and IMFL last year seemed to drag and motivation wavered. Racing 8 hours after a crash in Placid left me utterly spents and slowed my recovery down big time but 3 weeks after placid, I felt I had my legs back. I have been working with Ed Boyle as a masseuse this year and he has taught me a lot about listening to my body. While I don't wish a crash on anybody, and I was lucky to elude major injury, it was an interesting opportunity to be able to watch the body heal after a big race like an Ironman. I know a lot of athletes who throw a big event on the schedule in the same month they complete an Ironman and other athletes who lace up the shoes mid week post-Ironman to "start preparing" for their next adventure. I can speak first hand, watching bruises heal on my body, that your energy levels will return long before the bruises, tiny tears, and strains fully heal. Therefor, I recommend at least one week completely off after a major effort such as an Ironman.
If you know much about me or follow my ramblings, I love sharing these weekends with people. This year was nothing short of incredible as I was able to race side-by-side with a number of good friends as they tackled Ironman Lake Placid. I have also had the opportunity of helping a group of athletes prepare for IMChoo and I cannot thank Jay and Peluso Open Water Swimming enough! For Maryland, one of my college buddies was joining me for his first attempt at the distance. I knew he was in for a good day from the conversations we had over the preceding months and I could not wait to watch him chase his dream.
Ironman can be a stressful event and they best way to race fast is to limit as much stress as possible. I try my best to take care of things ahead of race week and plan to minimize stress leading up to the race. To my surprise, I called our hotel accommodations 2 weeks out from race day to find that we were not even in the system. I called my buddy and told him "don't panic, it wouldn't be an Ironman without a few speed bumps to test you along the way. We don't have a hotel room and Cambridge, MD is beyond booked. He took the reigns and tracked us down a place in Easton, MD about 15-20 minutes from the race site within 24 hours. Big props on that effort as I was prepared to sleep in a hammock or vehicle.
Race Morning: We woke up dark and early at 3:30 to scarf down pancakes with nut butter, nutella, bananas and cinnamon, collect our things, and make it to transition 20 minutes before the mad rush. We were able to get right in at 5:00, set up our gear, double, triple, quadruple check everything and then sit by the river until race start. Nerves never hit me until I was still in a porta potty line 20 minutes before the gun and I could see swarms of people crowding the swim start. Being a swimmer, I had to shove my way to the front of the mass so I wouldn't lose the front swim group. Sure enough, I made it to the front of the group with about 7 minutes to spare. With about 3 minutes until race start, the race director spoke to the front of the swim pack and said, "Just think, at the end of the day, one of you will be an Ironman champion!" For the first time all weekend, I had some nerves churning around and I knew I was ready to let it rip...8 hours from that moment ;)
Swim (0:58:15 1 M25-29/ 9 OA): Strava File
I noticed from the shore that the goggles I ended up wearing were not the best decision. They were a little older than I thought and were a bit scratched on the inside. It was tough to see and they kept fogging quickly despite having treated them with anti-fog the night before. This wasn't a huge deal to me seeing that there was nothing I could do about it at this point and I knew my only goal was to follow the feet of the fastest swim group. All I had to be able to do was follow some bubbles, spot a few buoys, and otherwise go for a ride on the EAC (finding NEMO anybody?) The swim was relatively uneventful and actually somewhat relaxing. I swam with Michael Hoffman, a very strong swimmer who I swam with in Florida last year. We stuck together most of the first lap until he was run into by a kayak and we both had goggle issues. We split and I latched onto another group and they carried my around the rest of the way. It was hard to tell if the buoys were difficult to spot due to my goggles or the slight bit of chop that had developed but I was having a tough time spotting. I relied on the feet of the swimmers in front of me and had to pay special attention when we ran into the back of the AG pack on our second lap. I wanted to make sure I didn't lose my workhorses on the way into the finish. Mission accomplished.
T1 (2:19):
The run to T1 was very short. You pop up on the shore and run about 100 meters tops and you're in the changing tent. The only alarming thing I noticed on the run was the fact that we swam 0:58?! Luckily, I had just enough time to see that the swim was almost 0.1 miles long and chalked it up to my advantage being a swimmer. The mind has a huge impact on performance so I always try to look at the positive side of whatever I encounter.
I am always quick in transition. I don't believe it is a worthwhile place to throw time away. My T1 bags included shoes, helmet, and a flask of UCAN to help replenish some of the caloric deficit I developed from being in the water for an hour. The flask allowed me to truly start my bike feeling "topped off." I knew I came into T1 around 8th place and I had no idea where I was coming out. All I knew is that it was a no-nonsense transition.
Bike (4:48:15 1 M25-29/ 8 OA): Strava File
My only goal on the bike was to allow myself to settle in for the first hour. I got too into the race in IMLP and pushed way too hard for the first two hours, digging myself in a hole the rest of the ride. Same story in IMFL last year. I started to cruise out on the course and only watched my HR. It was a tad elevated from the swim and spectator support, as expected. I tried to breathe easy and deep, I tried physical therapy exercises to position my diaphragm and round my back, and I paid no attention to other athletes which was far easier than I expected; I was alone for the first 2.5 hours. Alone isn't exaclty correct, I had one athlete pass me inside of the first 60 miles and I was able to keep him in sight around the bends down the road. I was really nervous opening up the bike alone because I kept questioning if I was even on the course anymore. Sure enough, course tape and a spectator here and there allowed me to realize that all was well. A few spectators that were out on runs kept us up to speed on our position. I was really surprised to hear that I was sitting in 3rd overall. My first conversation with a runner went along these lines: "Nice work man, you're in third!" "What?! Third or 13th?" "Third, go get 'em!" "Damn, I think he said third. Cool!"
Long, flat courses are often best raced by the athlete that stays the most mentally in check. Whoever can hold a nice, aero position while keeping steady power on the pedals, will be handsomely rewarded with a nice bike split. The beauty of the course, my course-specific training, and some serious work on my position allowed me to do exactly that. Anytime I was about to sit up or lose focus, the course changed from a swamp to an ocean view or dipped into a forest, or opened onto a screaming section of road that demanded my attention. I rode the first hour about 15 watts under goal wattage and picked things up for the second hour which ended up being my most demanding hour of the race. I dropped the pace a little bit, hoping to cross a timing mat and get everybody excited who was tracking the race.
I always use my special needs stop to pick up bottles that I have mixed using Infinit Nutrition. As I rolled into the special needs stop, around mile 60, a group of ~8 guys caught me. I made a quick stop for about 20-30 seconds and left at the tail end of this group. It was nice to have company on the road and actually feel like I was in a race. When I was by myself I was able to race my own race and pace however I wanted, but it felt like I was running away from the pack that was inevitably forming behind me. Once this group caught me, I was able to relax a little bit and pace off of the group knowing that as long as I held contact, I'd start the run at the front of the race, with the main contenders.
The second loop of the ride was nothing to write home about. We picked up a few riders up the road and one or two more caught us from behind. People were pretty good about keeping their distance although there were times when the group got too close so we would try to jostle things out and stay legal. There certainly is still an advantage at the legal distance but it is what it is. In the last 5 miles heading into transition, things started to split up a little. People were getting antsy and everybody wanted to be the first person off the bike. That being said, nobody surged, the pace was pretty easy, and we all took care of last minute items like peeing, finishing off our nutrition, and eyeing each other nervously. It was as if everybody was trying to gauge how much the other athletes had damaged their legs on the ride, while trying to be discrete about their inquiries. The ride concluded with a mass of spectators who were cheering us all home.
T2 (1:57):
This transition was a bit rushed. The changing tent was packed and high-strung. Any slight time savings here could go a long way deep in the marathon. Again, I kept a phrase in mind that I picked up from some local Richmond guys. "Think slow, move fast." I also remembered the words of Jessie Kropelnicki about adding as little stress to your system as possible and was sure to hit the sunscreen volunteers on my way onto the course. In what felt like a blink of an eye, I was starting the run in 4th place overall and 3rd place had exited the tent just ahead of me.
Run (3:21:19 2 M25-29/ 4 OA): Garmin Connect File
I can only describe the opening miles of the marathon as some of the most high strung racing I have ever been a part of. Within the first 0.25 miles of the course, the top three athletes M25-29 were shoulder-to-should, locking down places 4-6 in the race. We didn't look at each other, we didn't talk to each other, we didn't give each other an inch as we blew through aid stations, and most outrageous of all, we were flying! Running felt easy and the heat of the competition was easy to fall victim to but at some point I had to decide that this grueling pace was not sustainable. Check the splits and see for yourself!
Being so early in the race was a major piece that allowed me to finally pull the plug. At about mile 2.5, I passed Matt Shanks on the side of the road and felt like I was in a situation similar to what he described in his killer race at Challenge AC. In his race, people started lighting up the early stages of the marathon and he made a decision to let them destroy their legs and catch them late in the race. As I passed Matt, I dropped slightly behind the two guys I was running with and gave him a shoulder shrug, trying to silently convey, "WTH are we doing? This is dumb, right?" Without words I could tell he was helping me decide to let them go. I decided to start to drop my HR just a tad and see how that worked for me. I started to back off of this group ever-so-slowly and let the other two guys edge away. It took a while before they realized I was gone and it was cool to see the look of surprise they had. I watched them start shaking out their arms and doing all kinds of odd movements to prepare to go to battle one-on-one.
Whether they thought I was hurting or not is only know by them but I decided to pull the plug on that suicide pace and start running my own race. By the time we reached the turn around at mile 3.5, they were a touch ahead of me and I was sure to look stone cold as we passed each other. My mental conversations were: "That pace isn't sustainable for the entire run. Run your own race and let them put pressure on each other. One or both of them will crack at some point and you can sweep up the mess in a few hours as the run is closing out." I wasn't exactly sure if I believed that or not but it was all I could hold onto for the time being. I saw Matt within a half mile of the turn around and he looked happy to see that I had let those guys go. It was the best decision I could make at the time. The miles ticked by and at each turn around I could see these guys putting a hurt on each other and more distance on me. I was starting to seriously doubt my decision by about mile 15. They were still looking good and the distance was still creeping up.
One of the nice features of the three loop course, was the fact that we ran by spectators often. There was another QT2 athlete spectating who I had not met before but he was a major contributor in lifting my spirits for the entire run. Each time I ran by him, he was amped up. He kept telling me to run my own race, let these guys destroy each other. The next time I saw him it was "You're looking great, they're starting to crack, keep running steady." After that, "The front of the race has blown, it's up to you how many of them you are going to run through. You look great man!" Huge props to Andy Salmon for keeping my head in the game!
I saw my buddy Mongan around mile 17 of the run, just after I had turned around to start my final loop of the course. He was looking great and as we crossed paths, I used the lift he had given me to start to really dig. I told him how great he was looking and that I was chasing down 5th place as we spoke. One of the two guys in my AG had overreached and was coming back to me quick! I went by him at about mile 18 and crossed my fingers that there were two slots. My gameplan suddenly changed. I had been running on the edge most of the day, at higher heart rates than I have ever held through an Ironman. I was feeling smooth, and fleet-footed. It was time to let it go. As I passed this guy, I made sure to run by looking easy, at a pace a bit faster than his. I didn't want to overreach and mess up my race in the last hour of running so I started walking a very fine line. I ran hard enough to start dropping the pace a bit and made sure to slow down through aid stations to get the nutrition I needed. I'd start to lift again and if I became unsure about my pace, I'd back off just a touch. It was like I was walking to the edge of a cliff and backing up over and over.
Out of nowhere, around mile 19 or 20, I saw the 3rd place mountain bike sitting on the edge of the road. As I ran by, he started following me and asked if I was on my final lap. I was really confused as I hadn't passed any of the guys ahead of me. Turns out, they were taking care of business in the port-a-potty when I came through so I had run myself into 3rd overall without even knowing it. I took a moment to reflect on my patience. I had made a good call early in the race and I was reaping the benefits. I was one proud dude. I ran behind the bike for about 20-25 minutes and it was an entirely different experience. I had tons of athletes and spectators commenting and cheering me on, telling me to go catch 2nd and to keep running strong. I thought to myself, "Man, I'm drawing a lot of energy from this at a time when I really need it. I should just do this all the time ;)" My favorite comment was "Man, you're flying can I put my timing chip around your ankle?" That one even got a chuckle out of the too-tough-Terry I was embodying.
Around mile 22, a dude came flying by me and took the cyclist with him. From there to the finish, he put about 4-5 minutes on me. It was obvious when he went by that he was just having an entirely different day than I was and I needed to let him go.
I was still sitting 4th overall and 2nd in my AG so I went on damage control. The miles were still ticking by consistently despite the monumental effort I was laying down. To finish the race, you run past the transition zone, another 1-1.5 miles through town and then complete an out and back that is approximately 0.75-1.25 miles in total. Heading away from the finishing chute was tough mentally but I didn't have a lot of time to think about how I'd rather be done. A mile that was my slowest by about 20 seconds allowed a lot of the gap I had developed to vanish. I could almost feel a group of guys breathing down my back.
I so badly wanted to take in the day and enjoy the last mile but that was not an option. This was going to be a battle right to the end. I reached the end of the out and back and figured I had a good 20-30 seconds on the group. All I had to do was hold it together for another half mile and all would be well. I started to dig and dig, finding a whole new level of hurt as the chute seemed to ignore my efforts to reach it. I'd work hard for a minute, and look back to check the gap which was still closing. I had 2-3 guys behind me that simply would not give up. Turns out there were all duking it out for their AG slots. Regardless, I had to run HARD all the way through the chute and you can see just how close things got toward the end in the finish line photos. To put it all in perspective, 47 seconds slower would have dropped me form 4th to 7th; that's how tight of a race it was on the run. That could have been walking an aid station, poor nutrition leading to GI issues, overreaching early on the run, the wrong helmet or wheel selection. It's insane to think that over the course of a 9.5 hour race, such minute things can lead to such a substantial difference.
Overall (9:12:05 2 M25-29/ 4 OA)
All day, I felt like I was fighting for a 9:20ish time considering the slow swim and all. When the clock came in sight and read 9:11, I was sure that something was wrong and maybe there was another out and back somewhere that I was unaware of. This was not the case. I was able to reach the line seconds after it flipped over to 9:12, giving me a 16 minute PR over Florida last year. I couldn't believe it! QT2 never fails to set me up!
My buddy's girlfriend Steph had carried all our stuff around all day and proved to be an incredible help even though it was her first time on sherpa duty. She had my phone waiting for me so I could call my mom and my sister right away and get in touch with some of my friends and family that were following the race.
The amount of support was purely overwhelming. It took me about an hour to catch up on facebook posts, messages, and texts after the race was over. Even after that, things kept flooding in. I wanted to call everybody that was on my mind all day but I also wanted to watch the race and enjoy the aftermath. I cannot thank everybody enough and you have no idea how much your support means to me. When I race, I feel as if I'm racing for so much more than what this sport means to me. It feels as though I'm racing to represent the group of people that I train with, coach with, and share stories with. I feel like I'm carriyng everybody that has helped me get to this point with me through the course. When things get dark, I think of coach and other people who have believed in me. I was stoked to have broke 9:30 last year. I never thought I'd be a stones throw away from the 9 hour mark. The fact that so many of my people suppoort me, encourage me, and send me kind words along the way is what allows me to accomplish so much more than I ever believed I could. Usually a solid race like this leaves me thinking, "Dang, how am I ever going to go faster than that." That's not the case with this one. I feel like this race opened my eyes to my true potential. Thanks for keeping my mind and body in check out on the course X2Performance! I know my buddy used it as a key part of his killer race as well! Time to close out the season with a few more efforts and then put the feet up and get fat. Thank you Maryland for allowing me to start my redemption of IMLP. If that course thinks I'm done with it, it has a big surprise in store. Until next time, let's get after it!
No comments:
Post a Comment