Chesapeakeman Ultra-Distance Race Report
Chesapeakeman Ultra Distance
2.4 mile swim – 112 mile bike – 26.2 mile run
Race Report
The morning started early with a 3:00 a.m. wake up and 45 min drive to Cambridge, MD. A lot of planning was required for this race because T-1 and T-2 were at complete opposite sides of town. Bike gear bags, run gear bags, special needs bag, all needed to be pre-positioned. Also, during the few days prior to the Saturday race, there was speculation they may cancel the event due to weather, as hurricane Kyle was a Cat. 1 centered a couple hundred miles adjacent to the Maryland coast. In the end, the race organizers only changed the swim course from a point to point route to a safer 1.2 mile loop to be done twice. Nevertheless, the foul weather played a significant role throughout most of the day.
Swim: Water temperature was 70 degrees at the 7 a.m. gun. Daylight was just beginning with heavy cloud cover. Just about everyone elected to wear wetsuits in the salty ChoptankRiver. I had a good start with minimal battering from any of the other 200+ swimmers. I was somewhere in the middle and to the inside track. I kept focusing on breathing every other stroke to get started and into a rhythm and easy heart rate zone, heeding all advice not to go anaerobic at the gun. It worked well. Within about 10-15 mins I was into a nice pace and started bi-lateral breathing and making each stroke long and clean. Initially, I experienced almost complete loss of visibility because my swim goggles fogged up so badly and also it began to pour down rain. Though the buoys are some 6-7 feet high, it all but disappears from a distance at water-level. Sighting became difficult so I followed the swimmers in front of me, for the most part. The current and wind pushed the pack down to the first orange turn around buoy. Once I was headed back, into the current and wind, it was obvious the choppy water was going to slow me down a bit. With first loop done, I was able to briefly stop and cleaned my goggles. From then on I had no further visibility issue. I stayed in control and kept close to the inside line all the way to the last buoy. I only slightly bumped into a couple other swimmers during the entire swim and for maybe 30-40 mins was able to stay perfectly behind one swimmer whose feet I could barely make out in front of me about a two or three feet away. Coming into the boat ramp swim finish was a great, but a bit dizzying once I stood up. I was pleasantly surprised at my time 1:24:53 (10th place in my age group (AG))
Transition 1: Grab my bike gear bag and into the changing tent with a couple dozen other guys, strip the wetsuit, put into a bag with goggles and cap, on with the bike shoes, helmet on, and out into the misty rain and the bike rack. All nutrition onboard the bike and out I go in good time 4:58 (2nd place out of T-1 in AG)
Bike: The bike course started with one short out and back loop of about 12 or so miles before going into the big two loop portion (much of which is used for the Eagleman 70.3) through the Blackwater Wildlife Reserve. Skies remained overcast and sprinkles where off and on. At no time during the bike was I dry, per se’. For the first twenty mins I drank water, my one bottle of Ensure, and kept my cool. As numerous guys came up from behind and passed me I said aloud, but under my breath, “Don’t eat the paste…Don’t eat the paste” (see http://www.endurancenation.us/index.php for full explanation) in other words don’t do what everyone else in class is doing by bolting out too hard – pace myself. I found great use out of the permanent marker words I put on my forearms that morning to remind me not to be stupid - “BE SMART” on my left and “PATIENCE DISIPLINCE” on my right. It was a true mental exercise to hold back and not “race” everyone. I felt certain that I’d see those guys again somewhere around mile 18 of the run. The first loop seemed like it was taking forever. I started the nutrition regiment at around mile 15, a combination of Hammer HEED and a super concentrated paste of Perpetuem. Thirty miles in, or so, the course suddenly puts you in the middle of the wildlife reserve. Flat marshland as far as you can see. That marsh was also spilling over from all the storm activity. For stretches of road at a time the road was washed over by the marsh water. At many points it was more than foot deep. On a few occasions my front tire was splitting up schools of fish. Certainly not something you normally deal with while cycling. One fellow triathlete cheerfully commented how 'we should all get credit in the swim' while traversing this section. A few times the sun did pop out (as evident by the sunburn marks on my back) but I suppose if I had to choose the lesser of two evils, I’d choose the cooler overcast rain over blazing sun. At mile 45 I needed to go and an aid station ahead had a port-o-potty (despite my training successes of peeing while riding, I couldn't do it today for whatever reason). I could sense my inner thighs cramping up so I downed a couple Endurolytes which worked. A minute there and back out…but wait, not so fast. I heard the dreaded sound of air escaping from my rear tire. I was sidelined for a short spell. I guess, I was 15 min changing the tube. Trying to remount the tire, I encountered an issue where the rim wouldn’t properly seat back on the frame (later I discovered the small spring had hung up and was jamming the rim up into the notch). There were a fair number of flats on the course this day. Round the first loop and seeing the High School/transition area was a good mental pick me up. Off the bike for special needs, refueled and back out. Second loop was a bit tougher due to sporadic downpours, a lot less sightings of other riders (only saw a couple cyclists for hours at a stretch) and back around to the marshland tidal surge, only worse this time around. Miles 85 on, my dairy-aire was screaming bloody murder. All the wetness created unusual and unexpected chaffing. In trying to properly gauge my nutrition, I was calculating distance on my bike computer. As I was coming into transition to finish the bike my comp read 109 miles. I’m sure the course is 112 and my bike computer was off for one reason or another. Being my first ultra/IM distance I was unaccustomed to the personal service of a volunteer taking my bike and helmet when I dismounted and I walked across the timing mat and then she racking my bike for me. Indeed, very nice. Not to terribly shabby considering my first attempt to pace at this distance (though my actual time moving on the bike was 6:43 according to the bike comp, means I lost some twenty minutes for the flat and the few pit stops) 7:06:29 (15.8 mph avg. /14th place in AG)
Transition 2: Once into the changing tent, right away I was offered water/Gatorade by a volunteer took a seat and prepped for the run. There were two guys who came in after me, each of us first timer ultra distancers with one saying “what a merry-go-round, eh?”. It was a small relief to strip off the tri-suit for my running shorts and top. With fuel belt on with a concentrated supply of more HEED, E-caps, and what’s left of the Perpetuem (which is getting a bit stale at this point). 8:06 (11th in AG)
Run: By this time the roads were beginning to dry up a bit, but still considerable cloud cover, which was fine as it kept the now late afternoon sun from beaming down. I, again, resisted going out too fast on the run at the beginning. My legs felt remarkable well at this point. The first couple hundred yards I recall saying aloud “yeah, baby!” I was feeling stronger than I expected. Also, unexpected, was the lack of distress normally felt from a bike to run transition. Too easy on the bike or may have been the longer transition that relieved this (?). The run is made up of three out and back loops (approx 4.5 miles out) on a flat road with no trees to speak of and farmland. Aid stations (4 in all) each mile or so. Normally, I despise the multiple laps thing (at least, in training I avoided it). However, my strategy for the run fit well into this course layout. By all accounts, everything, since the start until about mile 18 of the run, is done so you have something left in the tank to finish those last and final eight miles. It’s where many are reduced to walking and at best a walk/run/walk. I winced as one competitor I ran past was asking the motorcycle support person for a lift back during his second loop. So close, yet so far. Being how each loop is approx 8.6 miles that meant the last and final loop is where it all comes to fruition. Since January this year I have been training for those last eight miles. But I had 18 miles ahead of me to get there. I stayed at a pace that I thought I could do all day and ran by feel versus 'time per mile' and drank water from every aid station in combination with my HEED flask. The first out to the turn around felt like I would never see it. Once there, and on the way back to complete my first loop, I notice most people were running, with a few exceptions. I kept a very focused state and good pace. Only a couple of runners passed me and they looked like Ironman vets close to finishing. I issued encouragements as they bounded ahead. I one the other hand needed to get the first loop done so I could start the next. I coasted into the transition/special needs area to the sound of my race number being shouted down a relay line for my special needs bag to be placed out. I was met by a terrific little guy of about 9-10 years old who, with two hands, expertly passed off the bag and then felt the desire to ask twenty questions as I prepared my flasks for the second loop. Thankfully, they were yes/no questions. Twilight was setting in by this time and the mosquitoes started to come out. I didn’t plan on that. For the second loop I had to really concentrate on making it out to the turn around. The number of triathletes on the course started to thin out, either by attrition or finishing. I kept wondering what loop everyone else was on. At mile 13 I was starting to feel the full effect of an IM distance triathlon. Oddly, my toes began to ache, something not experienced in any previous race or training (subsequently, my right toes are now black and blue under the nails) and I could feel some serious cramping coming on. I had pre-packaged tiny baggies with two E-caps each and decided to take a package each hour, or less going forward. I had a strategy for the first two loops; but the third and final loop was completely uncharted territory - the plan was to simply gut it out. Coming through the special needs area for the second and last time I was met by my wife, Dolly, jumping up and down, yelling, and taking pictures. A sight for sore eyes, for sure. She wanted to help me with refilling my flasks and I (rather pointedly) told her not to help for fear of a penalty, or worse, disqualification. She forgave me later. With her encouragements echoing in my head, I left out for the final miles. It was now dark and I was given a glow necklace which I put around my hat. It bounced around too much around my neck. Then up along side me trots an older gentleman with a headlamp on (obviously a veteran racer). At a time when I thought I needed solace and to be hyper-focused he began chatting away. We ran side-by-side with him doing most of the talking for about three miles before I needed to pitstop at a port-o-potty. His pace was only a tad aggressive for me, but I thoroughly enjoyed his up beat spirit and his unspoken willingness to drag me along for a few miles. Thanks, John. Nightfall had arrived and the amount of flying bugs I was colliding with was crazy. But today, I was the windshield. At this stage, I’m was willing myself from one aid station to the next, walking through each, downing water and taking in some cases drinking warm, salty chicken soup even. “…do not stop running…do not stop running…do not stop running…” was what I was reduced to. With 3 miles to go my right knee was almost finished, with the left one close behind. The thighs and calves were certainly screaming, but not as loud as my knee. But, I just knew I had enough to finish “…do not stop running…do not stop running…do not stop running…” I continued the regiment of HEED nutrition and water up till the last aid station, or what I thought was the last station. A miscalculation on my behalf had me thinking I was coming though the final aid station and only a mile remaining. Imagine my thoughts when I asked “you guys are the last station, right?” and the answer was “No, second to last, but you only have two miles to go!” Hey, what's 10 more minutes of pain and agony after 138 miles? Mental fortitude had brought me this far "...do not stop running…” Coming down the stretch, Dolly was right there with arms full of bags, bottles, and gear. She knew who I was running those last eight miles for and now the finish line was in literally sight. Onto the high school track field for a final ¾ lap, under the bright lights, with Dolly saying she would cut across the field and meet me at the line. I can’t say I recall what I was thinking for those final 40 seconds other than ”do not stop running…” With the race director Rob Vigorito shouting over the P.A. system my name, home city, state and that “you...are... now... a Chesapeakeman!”
5:11:35 (8th place in AG 11:54/m pace)
Total time 13:55:59
(9th in AG / 75th male to cross the line / 90th place overall).
Post race comment:
I want to congratulate every single triathlete who entered the race -- job well done!. Moreover, thank you to all you triathletes that took the time and energy to give me a small bit of encouragement as passed one another. I hope that I reciprocated the favor in full to you and the others on this day.
I can not say enough great things about the on course support and how amazed I was by each and every single volunteer. Simply remarkable. Lastly, to the wonderful and encouraging woman at the final run aid station handing out water. It didn't dawn on me, until much, much later, that you had body markings of race numbers on your arms. You were a competing triathlete that after finishing this grueling race went a mile out to an aid station to help hand out water and bring people in. That, to me, personifies this beautiful sport.