Mazatlan Race Report...Glorious, I Think
As promised below you will find my race report for this weekend’s past race in Mazatlan, Mexico. I’m going to begin with the race report, and that at the end I’m going to add the more general travel notes and stories. Hope you all enjoy!
The morning of the race I woke up to a windy day with waves that would have made any surfer happy to see…needless to say, that didn’t make anyone feel too well while on the start line. The day’s races (yes, races, not race) began with the Junior Pan American Championship, so the 16-19 year-olds. This was when the race directors, myself, and pretty much anyone at the site realized that the swim was going to be rough that day. One fourth of the girls’ entire field was pulled from the ocean by lifeguards for what were deemed “life-threatening situations”, namely, near drowning or kids that had been knocked out by a wave. All of this chaos occurred at around 7 in the morning right on the coast. The Professional men were not scheduled to start until around 11:50 in the morning…that time got delayed back until 12:30 due to the late start of the junior race that morning. We, the PRO men, got to watch the PRO women start and attempt the swim. There was a period of six minutes where the women covered a total of no more than 200m…for reference, these are the best female Triathletes in all of North and South America, women who can easily swim 200m in 2:30 during an open water race, and on this day it took them over 6:00 time. They literally looked, and were, standing still in the water.
Well, anyways, we were told the swim was still on and that the giant coast guard boats would help block some of the waves (that hadn’t really worked for the women, but they pretended we didn’t see the women start), and not to worry too much…there were plenty of lifeguards on shore to help us if we washed up there. The true force of the waves it us when we watched a guard, on a jet ski, stand up, and the wave he was avoiding rose 5ft beyond his head.
At the start I did what I had learned to do last time I did an ocean start with large waves—I dove deep when they came, and prayed I timed it right. I made it under some, and got totally annihilated by others. There was a point that I looked at the guy next me, saw a building in the distance lined up with his head. I continued to swim with all my effort for 30sec, before looking at the same guy and seeing that we were still in line with that same building. We had not moved a single inch. After what seemed like an eternity, and more than a few head jarring hits from the wave, we got past the break. At this point there was one small lead pack and 3 chase packs. I was in the second of those 3 chase packs, or the 4th of 5 packs. I came out in no man’s land between the 3rd and 4th packs, having gotten lucky by not being wrecked from any waves on the way in. four men were pulled out when they nearly drowned on the return swim to shore.
Being in between packs after the swim, I had some work to do. I didn’t want to wait around and see who may be in the pack behind me, so I took a gamble and went after the 3rd pack, which was about 45sec up on me. We had an 8 lap bike course of 5km per lap. The thing is, these laps are straight out for 2.5km, and 2.5km right back. If you are in a pack, and you are drafting, you have a huge advantage on this kind of course. Momentum can be built and sustained easily. This meant that I spent almost 2 laps trying to catch the 3rd pack while time-trialing. My coach yelled at me on the way out for the second lap that I had to catch them or risk being done then and there. I screamed, “I know that damn it! I’m going!” And, when I came around I was leading the pack, barking orders to the others in the pack on when to pull and when to pop off. I also took the time to yell at my coach, “See! I flipping told you!” I knew better than to swear and risk “un-sportsmanlike conduct”. We had one racer in the pack who would not take a pull. This became clear after about 30min on the bike. The group made a collective decision to try and drop him. Had he really been hurting and needing to sit on the back, we would have lost him then and there. But, he had no problem stopping us from dropping him. He quickly made many enemies in the pack. Worst part…he was one of the people I was racing against for a World Championship spot if the race stayed close.
I came off the bike feeling real strong. I was ready to put the pain on people during the run. My coach yelled at me to take it easy for the first kilometer and then pick up. He didn’t want me to urn out early, and from past experiences (Florida 70.3), I listened to him. The run was going really well until around the start of the third lap when I began cramping, and oddly, feeling cooled off…yes, cooled off even though it was 95+ degrees out and over 80% humidity. I knew this was NOT a good sign. I kept tossing cold water on myself every chance I got and drinking Gatorade as best I could. On the fourth and final lap I was a wreck. I was going in and out of awareness and was not shivering and had goose bumps all over my body. The guy that I was hoping to beat who sat on our bike pack was about a minute up on me and I just kept hoping I could get him. When I was the 1km to go mark on the run course it was all I could do to tell myself, “Don’t stop. Finish.” That is the final thing I remember. The next memory I have is me laying on a table in a tent with Sheryl, my coach’s wife, looking at me and telling me to calm down, and breath deep. I then have another blank spot, before remembering her talking to me again and tons of people yelling things all around.
Now, I had the gaps filled in later by my team and other onlookers. After seeing that 1km to go sign, they said I started going from one side of the road to the other like a ping-pong ball all the way to the finish line. Once I crossed the line I took steps, as if I was okay, and then just buckled at the knees into a heap and began convulsing and, what looked like full body cramping. Five of the race volunteers picked me up and ran me into the med tent where I was placed on a table and held down to have ice poured all around me. At this point I was non-responsive and going into what looked like seizures. They said I would come out of, go into a panic, not know who I was, try to get up, and then start breathing faster and faster. My temp was around 105, and I was holding steady at a pulse of 210-220 at this point. My breathing would get too fast and I start going back into these shakes. They even tried to give me oxygen while pouring more ice around me. This went on for about 30min before I stared to just shake and look around in a panic. They got me to respond to touch, but I just kept saying I couldn’t feel my face or anything that touched it, along with my feet. In the end, they got me cooled down and relaxed. That is when I remember Sheryl, and she said that shortly after I acknowledged her, I went back into a hyperventilating mode a few more times. After that, I remember everything, and it was not fun. From what I can tell, there is a total of about 1:15-1.5hrs in there that I don’t remember at all. The USAT and team members of mine who have been around this for years, said they have never seen something that bad before.
Morale of the story…don’t go to a race in extreme heat without be acclimated to it. I’m feeling much better now, but still am not all there in the legs, and I keep getting random headaches off and on. The doctors from the US National Team and my coach (a paramedic) said I’ll be fine after a couple days rest. In the end, I was one of 45 finishers out of a field of 62 of the best athletes in all of North and South American that started. It was one hell of an experience and real character builder.
Look for my general travel stories later tomorrow on my blog, again, at www.kamnetz.com . I’ll post them once I get back home to Wisconsin.
Oh, next race, Memphis in May on May 18th in Memphis, TN.
P.S. I'll update you as to who makes the World's Team late on Wednesday after USAT announces it's selections.