70.3 World Championship 2007

Clearwater, Florida
November 10th, 2007

Today everything was fast . . . all around me. The 70.3 World Championships was an absolute treat for me, from competing with the world’s top HIM athletes to enjoying a fabulous venue, first class treatment from the volunteers, and the warm hospitality from the residents of Clearwater.

My first ever ocean swim was Thursday morning (I don’t think that my previous experience in the ocean of wading in waist deep and playing in the waves counts). When I arrived at the beach there was a lecture going on about strategy suggestions for ocean swims. I was only half listing to what was being said because I very nervously was watching the waves wondering how in the world I was going to get up the nerve to get in. There were a lot of questions about swells. People were asking, “how big are the swells? In what direction are they moving?” “Swells?” I wondered, “Are they talking about the waves?” I slowly put my wetsuit on, watched, delayed, and then took the plunge.

Swells are very scary. Surfers love them, strong swimmers just deal with them, but weak swimmers like me find them terrifying. I bobbed up and down like a cork, trying to site the buoys, but they kept disappearing. I struggled for about 15 minutes and then got out wondering how I was going to survive the swim on Saturday.

That afternoon I checked in. At the first table a volunteer asked for my id and USAT card, gave me a pink slip of paper with my bib number, and then sent me to the next volunteer wearing a head set. This volunteer radioed my bib number and assigned me to go to table #6 where another volunteer had already pulled my packet and was ready to explain the contents, get me to sign the forms, and put on my wristband. From there I went to another spot to be weighed and another to activate my chip and a final one to hand me my complementary bag, t-shirt, hat, etc. The process was smooth and so pleasant. The volunteers made me feel important, and I really appreciated how they went out of their way to make sure every athlete felt special.

Friday morning I went to the beach again and this time paid closer attention to the lecture. The ocean looked completely different, no swells, so I was not as distracted. I’m glad I listened because there was a lot of useful information. For example, the moment to get up and run out of the water when finishing a beach start/finish ocean swim is when the hand touches the bottom. “Take an extra stroke,” they said, “get up and start running without removing goggles or cap.” “You will need your hands,” they said, “just lift the goggles off your eyes when you hit the beach and go.” I practiced this on Friday and followed their advice race day and it worked perfectly.

Friday I swam for 25 minutes and felt a lot more relaxed. I could site the buoys and when I turned to come back, I felt pushed forward by the waves. That was nice. I was grateful for calmer waters, and as it turned out, Saturday the race conditions were perfect.

Friday afternoon was bike and bag check-in. At the 70.3 Worlds the transitions happen in a changing tent and not at the bike like at other HIMs. So earlier in the day, I had carefully packed and re-packed my swim-to-bike transition bag and my bike-to-run transition bag. When it was time to walk over to transition from our hotel, Mark helped me with my bike and my bags, but he was not allowed beyond a certain point to get into transition, so I had to push my bike and carry the bags and I was making a mess of it, getting all tangled up and tripping over my bike. There was a long line beginning to form and I could hear the announcer saying, “we need more volunteers to check in the athletes; we don’t want them waiting; we want them happy!” When it was my turn a tall young man introduced himself and then asked me my name. It took me a moment to realize that each athlete got a personal volunteer to help set up transition, to show the flow, and answer all question. First, my volunteer rescued me from my tangled bags; and then he helped me rack my bike, suggesting the best way to do it, and pointing out all the major landmarks so I could easily find it race morning. Next, he showed me where to hang my bags, and he made many helpful suggestions about what I should do as I was running out of the swim and how to quickly transition from the bike to the run. He showed me and showed me again how the flow worked (I asked lots of question, often asking twice to make sure I understood). He patiently answered and re-answered my questions. He explained that there would be wetsuit peelers and a bike catcher. I asked him about race morning, race waves, potty facilities at transition and on the course, about water and food on the course. So when I couldn’t think of any more questions, I remembered my manners, thanked him, told him I thought the volunteers were the best ever, and then asked him, “you said your name is Steve, right?” “Yes,” he said, “I’m Steve, the race director.” Just then Mark, who was standing just outside the transition fence asked me to ask the volunteer for spectator viewing suggestions. “I’ve got the race director!” I shouted. So Steve walked over and answered all of Mark’s questions. The whole experience was just way too cool.

Race day morning the water was calm and gorgeous. I arrived at transition a little before 6. Transition closed at 6:30, so I did not have much time, but all I needed to do was fill my water bottles and put all my cliff blocks in my Bento box. The pro men were only a few bike racks away from me, so I got to watch Craig Alexander and Andy Potts get their bikes ready under the glare of the NBC TV cameras.

Soon it was time to get my wetsuit on and walk to the beach to my appropriate wave corral. It was cold, about 54 degrees. The water, I knew, was about 69 degrees. Fortunately I had had two cold mornings to acclimate, so I felt all right. I also knew that in about an hour the temperature would go up to about 70 degrees and the late morning would be about 76—PERFECT!

One of suggestions from the swim lecture the previous day was to have a plan for how to start the race. The advice was that weaker swimmers should walk, not run in, go all the way to the left away from the buoys, and then also maybe wait a little after the gun to get in. “This is the plan for me,” I thought, but just a few moments before my start I changed my mind. Too many women seemed to be moving to the left and hanging back. The strong swimmers moved forward and to the right, but not many were lining up after them, so I decided to just follow them in. The gun went off and I ran! It was fun. There was a little bit of bumping, but not much, and very soon I had open water in front of me. I was hugging the buoys, keeping a straight line. I was happy and comfortable until . . . the fast men in the wave behind me caught up. They also liked hugging the buoys, so they just swam over me. They were so fast, the swimming over me only lasted a moment, but I was a little scared. Very soon I was once again happily and comfortably swimming from buoy to buoy until the wave of fast swimmers from two waves behind me also caught up. They also liked hugging the buoys, and they also swam over me. I’m pretty sure Jon Brown was one of them (he had a blazing fast 29 minute swim and 4:34 overall time!). By this time I was at the turn around, and we headed east, right into the sun. I was prepared, though, because I had already experienced being blinded the two previous mornings. So I followed the swimmers ahead of me, knowing that eventually I would see the buoys, and I knew I could keep straight by sighting Pier 60 on my left. The swim back felt faster, don’t really know if it was, but the gentle waves were now working in my favor. I eventually touched the bottom, took another stroke, got up, ran, lifted the goggles, ran up the gauntlet of cheering fans, spotted Mark and his parents cheering, ran through the showers, reached the peelers who had me out of my wetsuit in seconds, and ran to get my swim-to-bike transition bag.

My swim was a slow 40 minutes and my T1 was a slow 4 minutes and change (I need to work on this transition thing). There were volunteers inside the tent ready to help me get my gear on and bag my stuff for me. I ran straight to my bike (Steve’s directions were superb) and just as I reached my bike I slipped! I did not hurt myself, but I was very embarrassed. But I kept going, ran with my bike to the mount line and took off. I was wet and cold for the first 15 minutes, but I warmed up quickly.

The bike course is very flat and fast except for crossing the causeway. It is about a half mile up with a 12% grade. Mark and I and his parents had driven the first part of the bike course the day before, the one with the most turns, so I knew what to expect. The first third of the bike course went through Clearwater’s business district and several neighborhoods. The cops were out in full force and they were absolutely amazing. They had to deal with some intense traffic, but they were just fantastic keeping everyone safe. The second third of the bike course was the fastest, a wide straight road and a tail wind. It was not very interesting, but the bridge over the bay was nice, and I was having way too much fun going fast. I kept thinking about all the times Mike and Tim pulled me to and from Bernalillo, going 22 to 28 mph. Thanks to them I was not scared to just go as fast as I could. Mike and Tim have everything to do with my improving on the bike this year. I totally owe them for my 2:35 bike time and 21.6 average mph. The last third of the bike course turned around into the wind and had some turns and then the climb over the causeway again, steeper and longer in this direction. I was much slower here, but I felt strong and kept pushing as best I could.

One thing that made me laugh while on the bike was the Europeans. The men like to wear speedos to race, and so when I saw them pass me, leaning over their bikes, I got a few flashes of rather hairy butts.

The transition to the run went much more smoothly. I felt great right away and I knew I would have a good run. The run course is not fast because it consists of two loops that go over the causeway. So there are four climbs. Fortunately I do a lot of climbing when I train, so I was not intimidated at all. I have my running buddies Jean, Ken and Susan to thank for my run time—they are always there helping me push hard when I am training. My plan was to gradually speed up. I didn’t get negative splits, but my two loops were practically even. The nice thing about the run is that there is more time to look around, to see the athletes and to take in the surroundings. I saw Mark and his parents twice, cheering for me, and that was super nice. In a quiet part of the course there were two older ladies sitting on lawn chairs waving their homemade signs for every athlete that went by. One sign said, “Allez, allez,” I’m sure in an effort to encourage the foreign athletes, and every time a woman ran by, one of the women turned her sign around that said, “You go girl!”

For the last three miles I wanted to quicken my pace. As I approached the finish, the cheering got louder and I could see the huge Ford Ironman finish inflatable. I started to pump my arms as soon as I heard the announcer say my name. And then I was done. Immediately a volunteer wrapped a towel over my shoulders, another volunteer put on the medal (a very nice one, by the way), another took my chip, another handed me Gatorade, another bottled water, another showed where to find food. I was hungry, so I ate some rice and beans and some fruit.

It was very crowed and I had a little trouble finding my family, but when I found them they were very excitedly telling me I had done the race in under 5 hours! My mom was also on the phone congratulating me. My run was 1:32:50, my overall time was 4:56, and my age group place was eighth. For 2007 I am eighth in the world in my division for the 70.3. It doesn’t get any cooler than that.

What a long strange trip it's been...part Deux

In November of 2003 I finished my first Ironman in Florida. I wrote a story about my trip from couch 'tater to Ironman and all of the detours along the way. I thought that I had the world by the huevos and there was no going back.......

Well that long strange trip had a few more detours, and some road construction, and a mirror. You see the mirror was there all along but I chose not to see it. The detours and bumps in the road were choices I made. I made a couple of choices over and over and kept getting it wrong.

About a month ago I woke up and found that years have passed, I gained weight, and I realized that alcohol had way to tight a hold on my life. I have never said it before, but I am an alcoholic......er recovering alcoholic. Those goals I penned after IMFL were still there, I just had a hard time seeing them. I won't be drinking again.

I took a long hard look in that mirror and felt ashamed. But inspired. I sat down and rewrote my goals. Number one goal: Face each day sober and thankfull. So far so good.

I went for a run....well shuffle...and felt like I just ran down the IM chute. I went for a ride.....and felt like I won the Tour de France. I went for a swim...and realized that I still stink at swimming...but I am thankful that I could do it.

In the past month I have eaten like I should have been eating, run, swam, and biked my way through 20lbs.

I have training goals, race goals, and more importantly I am fixing what I broke.

I am an Outlaw again. I am an Ironman again. And I am ready for what comes my way, sober.

Soma Race report..

I can only say that maybe IMLF was that difficult and I just don't remember but this one in on the books for me as the scariest (physically)-like the scary kind of am i really doing damage here on my body or could I die in this heat kind of fear.So here's how it went:I woke up with a ridiculously sore throat and congestion, took some sudafed-that seemed to help. No other symptoms. Hartley and I got up early, did our morning bagels, ensure, coffee for me and decided to leave around 5:45 since we had later waves. It took about 25 min to walk to the race site. Our bikes were already there-I liked that part-no lugging bikes in the morning. When we got there, we started hearing "transition closes at 6:45-no exceptions" Well, they had said in the pre-race meeting that it closed at 7:15 so I was pissed. We had literally 30 min to get all our stuff ready and find air for my tires. That sounds like alot of time but it's not when you have all the little doo-dahs to put in your bento box,race number belt and bike helmet. Vaseline on my run and bike shoes and baby powder in each for a smooth transition..I got out of this very huge transition area (about 2000 athletes) just under the wire. I couldn't find Hartley at this point but finally somehow ran into him. We got to hug and say good luck-his wave went before mine. Mine was last! I thought that would be bad but i think it was actually nice to know I probably wouldn't get passed by another wave behind us. The swim takes place in Tempe Town Lake-temp was around 70 degrees-you jump in, tread water and boom! you are off! it was a rectangle course, the second half was directly into the sun-guess they thought us old women could take the sun and heat so started us last..I could see nothing but thrashing arms in the sun portion and just kind of followed them. I felt like I was swimming pretty well-not fast but not slow. At the end, this really big guy hoisted me onto this block step to get out. I almost lost my balance as I tried to stagger out of those steps-that was tricky. they stripped my wetsuit for me, then was about a 100 yard run to transition. All in all my swim time was 44 minutes-which was slower than I thought I was swimming. I read on one forum that the swim was long-that's what I'm thinking. I was 2nd out of 16 in my AG in the swim, which is great but sucked later when 5 women in my AG passed me on the bike.T-1. I just whipped out of there and did it in 2 min, something. Jumped on the bike after running forever it seemed-had my shoes already on the bike. Wasn't quite the pro start I wanted but I did get into the shoes eventually and took off. The bike course is a neat little urban 18 miles loop that you do 3 times. The roads were closed-it was awesome! Lots of turns, a couple of "hills" (are they kidding-go check out Elephant Butte). All in all a great course. BUT-one by one 5 women in my AG passed me on the bike. You can tell by the age numbers on their calves. This started to discourage me but also spurred me on to go faster. I was pissed!! These women were bigger than me, for the most part and I thought -"shouldn't I be faster here?" Well, I never saw them again except one I passed on the run-tee-hee...Total bike time-3:05. My personal best by about 25 minutes in a half. I am thrilled and do thank each and every 50-54 woman that passed me now! It was starting to get hot near the end of the bike, bu nothing really noticeable. I forced myself to drink and eat because I knew it would be hot later and I needed reserve. That all went well. I saw Dread Pirate on the bike stopped with a major bike problem and waiting for help. I felt really bad for her because I think it had something to do with the wheels I sold her..I ran into Duane on the bike and others. It was fast and alot of folks on that bike course..My legs were screaming by the end, I was pushing so hard and I began to wonder if I had pushed it too hard..I was trying to catch all those women!!T-2. Another fast one. I can brag that i did have the fastest transitions in my age group-something to be proud of. Coach Mico taught me that. Even if you are slow,even the slowest, you can make time up in transition..and I do..THE RUN: Now here is what separated the men from the boys, so to speak. And I am not sure that those of us that finished are necessarily smart or sane, but I did....finish.... As I I headed out to run, I noticed right away it was HOT! I mean REALLY hot! The internet said it was 97 degrees. There was no wind at this point-I was saying to myself by mile 2-"there is no way I will finish in this heat" I have never thought this before in a race. I felt at times running faint, nauseated, chilled-these are all signs of dehydration, probably sun stroke-I told myself. I started walking out of fear. There were ALOT of aid stations-at least every mile and at each one they had water, gator ade, pepsi, ice, etc..It was so well supported. At each aid station, I drank water, poured water on my head, put ice on my chest. I alternated drinking water, pepsi, gatorade. After awhile I think I was delirious because I forgot when I had taken in goo or salt tabs-I did take about 4 I think. I took 4 Ibuprofen. My legs were cramped and feet numb the first 4 miles. I had to stop and take my shoes off, rub my feel and put my shoes on looser each time. This happens to me often in the heat..I think it is the swelling after the bike. Anyway after about 4 miles and my "walking the aid stations" idea was clearly not working-I needed a new goal. OK-I can walk 60 secs./run 60 secs.. I do not race with a watch so I counted-probably out loud, who knows. But that seemed to work for awhile. There was an out and back loop at mile 4 that seemed like forever. Everyone looked like hell. I still wondered if I would faint and die out there. I wondered why there were not more bodies on the course-really! But somehow I finished the first lap. I still did not know my time but I knew if I did the walk/run thing-it would probably be about a 3 hour run and I could break my 7 hour goal. I saw Geek Girl at the 7 mile aid station and she said she wasn't going to make it..i understood that for sure..i was about to join her. About mile 7 and 1/2 I saw Hartley in a sag wagon-OH NO!! I thought. He told me he pulled something in his leg and was going to the medical tent. I was really bummed now-he wasn't going to finish his first half IM! I felt like crying. Then I re-focused and started the walk /run thing again. I met Russ, from San Diego and we walked/ran/encouraged each other for the last half of that very long hot run. My voice was hoarse by now-I could barely talk. The breeze actually started on the last 5 miles, which helped a bit. I no longer felt like I may die and knew I would finish at about mile 10 of the run. I met another guy that told me I would make it under 7 hours with time to spare (I wouldn't let him tell me the time-it psyches me out). Russ and I continued to jog and somehow the last mile and a half, I got a burst of energy and just blasted in. It felt so good to run the pace I wanted to run the whole time and at the finish line-there was Hartley, cheering me in and limping along...I felt tears in my eyes as I realized I had my PR and he didn't finish. He had pulled his Achilles Tendon (we think)..Final run time was a miraculous 2:52.Final time: 6:47-my PR by 27 minutes...I finished 6th out of 16 in my age group. 684 out 881 overall.

Missing in Action

Hello Outlaws. I have been missing for a couple of months. I recently moved into my house out in the middle of nowhere and have been unpacking, cutting wood, building a greenhouse, putting in a wood stove, building a 600 foot fence, etc.

I did the Harvest Moon half iron in Denver in September, the longest, hardest race I've done since I had a shoulder and neck injury a decade ago. I finished, albeit very slowly. I won't be doing another race until next year and will stick with the shorter events (except maybe the quad).

I have a great deal of experience with the Mt Taylor Winter Quad if anyone has questions or needs to see the course. I have done it either solo, pair, or team twelve times.

Talk to everyone more later.

Warpath

Steve "Yoda" Hall Goes to Worlds!

Well, since I saw that the family was briefed on my race I thought I would include a race report. It is something people often do after a race. They reflect on the race and write a report about it.

The flight out to Germany was uneventful. I did not have a great seat and was uncomfortable but they showed fairly new movies and I watched a total of 6 going out and back. Jenni and I had a pretty good system of luggage so I thought we made a pretty good team.

When we got to New York, Jenni – being the intelligent half of our relationship – noticed that we did not have our camera and quickly went and bought one. Hell, that had not even crossed my mind, which is sad to say. So we got the camera and took a couple of practice shots at the restaurant we ate at while waiting for the plane.

We landed in Germany and took a bus to the hotel, Holiday Inn. Their version of a king size bed is two twins zip tied together. Germany is a very nice place. I really look forward to going there again one day. Thursday was supposed to be the parade of nations. Everyone says that the Parade of nations is worth the price of admission. The bus system that Team USA had was not very good. So, when they were supposed to bus us to the team photo shoot, fifty of us missed the team photo because of the bus drivers. Oh well, we showed up for the Parade to find out they were not having the parade. Instead they had a “presentation” of the nations, consisting of a guy announcing the countries in attendance. It was very much a let down. However, it was there where Jenni and I met some friends. John Close, Edie, Julia and Caroline were some good friends throughout the stay. John, Julia and I were all on Team USA with John and I in the same age group. But having friends is a great thing to bounce ideas off each other and to help with stuff. Jenni took a good picture of us.

Nothing eventful happened leading toward the race. We ate, drank (well, Jenni did) and found out that they have Starbucks and Subway in Germany. Everything was in race prep mode for me. Trying to keep food and drink with me the entire time. They ran a race for Hamburg the day before to workout the kinks. This provided us a chance at looking at the flow of the race. It is also where we learned how big the transitions were. We watched the women’s elite race, which was on Saturday. It was very exciting. They set up the race so that the professional athletes basically run laps, to create the most exposure for the fans to watch them. USA held the lead from the swim, but was passed in the last couple of laps by Portugual and Germany. So we took the bronze.

You can see me standing to the left down quite a bit. The guy down ¼ of the way is a guy riding a bike. The bike transition area took up over 3 large city blocks. It was huge.

The above is just one side of the transition, there was another “lane” to my left. And this line was only half of the swim to bike transition, if that. They were just enormous. If my check on mapmyride.com was correct, the swim to bike transition was .51 miles. We also had to turn in our bikes that day (day before the race) as well.

All of the age groups were broken down and put into their own wave. Each wave was separated by ten minutes. This would allow for you to only race against your group and hopefully stop the drafting. When I saw my wave time, I quickly realized that my wave was the very last wave. The thoughts quickly start to go through your mind…Don’t be the last guy on the course. This is the World Championships so you know all the competitor’s there are good and fast.

The night before the race, they held a pasta dinner for all the participants and others involved (basically anyone willing to buy the $10 ticket). They estimated they served 7,000 people at the pasta dinner. They held it in the local newspaper building in the personnel cafeteria and opened up th 2 level concourse for people to sit and eat.

Race day.

This was not going to be my normal race day. Usually I am waking up at 3:00 am and driving to some city in NM. This one I got to sleep in late and did not have to hurry. I got to watch how the starting waves did and watched some fun racing. My voice did go hoarse from screaming go USA! As our start got closer, John, Julia and I were hanging out drinking coffee and watching everyone go. Julia went first. She got ready, into her wetsuit and was off. She is a good swimmer and when we saw her time coming off a couple of minutes longer than expected, my first thought was that the swim was long. But you figure that it is long for everyone but it really benefits the fish of the group more.

John and I followed order and were getting ready to swim. As I was watching the 40-44’s right in front of us, I kept noticing that they would jump in the water and then get right back out. We had swam in the lake a couple of days before and knew it was a little cold, but not that cold. However, a lot of people were doing it. I just thought, “warm bodied racers.”

The wave goes off and our wave has to wait a couple of minutes before being allowed in the water. We line up and jump in the water and WOW is that water colder than I remember. John and I jump out for a second. John cannonballs back into the water I jump in trying to keep my goggles on. We lined up and I struck up some conversations with a few other guys. I started my watch five minutes early and then they started us off. I was going to try and draft in the water to save some energy (legal to do). I saw John just taking off flying through the water. He was flying. I just tried to stay in a good draft because it is basically 30 minutes of swimming. It was pretty intense. There was a lot of hitting other people and a lot of getting hit. One guy even grabbed my ankle and pulled. Things normally are hectic in the few couple of hundred meters and then they tend to thin out. Not this race. It was non-stop action the entire race. I could not get into a groove because when you are running into other people and getting whacked, well it is hard to get into a groove.

I got out of the swim and started the half mile run called T1 (Transition one). I had my top off my wetsuit before I even got to the bike and I removed the second half pretty quick. But I noticed John’s bike, which was parked next to me was still there. I was surprised as I saw him take off pretty quick on the swim.

If you look at the Germany swim times and compare them to Portland (Nationals), you would notice most people were about 2 minutes slower in the water for this race. I was 1 minute slower. I did feel like I gained time with the correction of my stroke and stretchy cord exercises. I felt the swim was a good time and I feel like I was not in a groove. The swim was long and people’s time showed. My swim time was 24:30.

The bike….Ahhh the bike. I had worked the bike pretty hard before going to Germany and really all year. I think that showed in the results. I had the 18th fastest bike for the age group – not bad for a group of 135. My philosophy for the race was to try and hammer everything. I feel like I did that on the swim, since I lost only 1 minute over my Nationals time, compared to the average of 2 minutes by most other competitors… and then I had improved greatly on my bike. 1hour, 1 minute and 21 seconds (24.25 mph) for the bike was much faster than normal and a PR (personal record) by 3 minutes. Also the bike was long. I measured the race to be over 25 miles, and so did Julia who did the race with an Ergomo power meter. Julia had the bike at 25.21 miles. I had about 25.2 but thought it was me not subtracting the transitions correctly until I asked Julia. The transitions were long. Yes ½ mile long. They were the longest transitions I had encountered. Even Ironman Arizona’s were not as long as they stack wider and not longer. I was astounded at how far we had to run so to get the times I did, I am happy at transition.

I started the bike and there was a couple of us going at a pretty good clip (pace) trying to get into our shoes. Once in, a big German guy and I started to go hard. He was in front of me about 50 meters and I felt he would be a good rabbit for me. As we rode we turned up into the redlight district. Yes, Hamburg has a redlight district – apparently an original that Amsterdam emulated – and they are proud of it. They had the bike course go through there. That is how proud they are of it. The German guy for some reason stood up on the slight hill leading into the redlight district. You lose good time when doing that and I quickly bridged up to him and passed him pretty quickly. I then caught a large group of riders. They were literally pack riding. In triathlon world it is called drafting. It is not legal but there were marshals all over the course so I felt it would not last for long. I quickly went by them and felt strong. A little further down that same pack passed me by, all in a row. They were rotating at the front and a stronger rider had taken them past me. They went by and as a not so strong rider started their lead they quickly slowed up. I was surprised at the outright cheating of all those competitors. I again passed them and gapped them pretty good. At the first turn around coming back, I noticed that big German was on my heels but that dang pack was still together and coming on again. I just kept it going and before too long they were coming by me again. There was not much I could do but I heard a motorcycle behind me so I figured people were then going to be stuck. The pack passed me, followed by the motorcycle and the motorcycle (a race marshall) started breaking up the pack - finally.

As soon as they were broken up, they lost speed and I passed by. I passed the motorcycle, who was still tending to them and I was passing on the left. In a large group, all you can do is yell that you are coming. You are supposed to pass on the left so if someone is yelling coming up on your left you are supposed to drift right, let them by and fall back as to not draft. Well, right in front of the motorcycle a guy cuts me off and it sends me outside the cones into the lanes of the on coming bikers. I am over there for a couple of cones and I dart back around the guy. I hear the motorcycle people take some action. I’m not sure if it was on that guy or not but I would like to hope so. There they do a start and stop penalty – meaning if you are caught cheating they pull you over.

I am going along and I get cut off again by a guy from Mexico as we round a turn. I realize that I am actually passing a lot of people on the bike and feel like I am giving it my all. I keep going, hit the turn around to go back, and that dang pack is together again and charging. It was amazing that they would get back together again. Well, I keep going and they pass me right before the redlight district. As soon as they hit the hill, where it is harder to cycle and not so good of a draft benefit they quickly fall apart and I get to go by them right around the corner. Right at that time I can see some photographers who take a pretty good picture of me rounding the corner. They are not in the picture but there is a pretty good sized group behind me.

I keep going and hammering away and I soon get a side stitch from drinking too much sports drink. I still have time before the run, a few minutes anyway and I decide to stop drinking to let that side stitch go away. As I am going that group is still together but the motorcycle comes again and breaks them up. Another USA guy goes and passes me and on the way he said the marshal had finally broken up that group. I hit that last turn around and I am hammering to the end. I feel I have done well but I did not know the price I would pay. You go through a tunnel to get to the end and that to me signified taking my feet out of my shoes. I start to pull my right foot and my right hamstring knots up badly. It is to the point where I have to straighten my hamstring because the pain is pretty good. I am starting to get close to T2 and I decide to take my left foot out and that one knots up badly as well. I have to straighten that one and I feel like I am hurting. I decide to nut up and just take them out and deal with the knots. I get them out but I have to coast up to the dismount line with my feet out of the shoes and both my legs straight. I felt my run was in major jeopardy.

I make it through transition and I start the run. T2 was pretty quick and I get my shoes on and start a quick run. I had a side stitch on both sides. It was very hard to breathe and run. I felt that it would work its way through and I started to pick up the pace to where the hamstrings were very close to knotting up and shutting me down completely. At this time it was very hard to keep my breathing going with the pain from the cramps. I decided to try and hold the pace even though it was hurting. I started to pass guys from the 40-44 group and am holding an okay pace but not what I know I can do. I run up on a guy who is wearing the RSA (South Africa) jersey and he decides to stay with me. It is good because we kind of held a decent pace and we kind of surged on each other. I am thinking that I have to outrun this guy at the end because I don’t want to lose to him at the end. I take in water at the aid stations and it seems to be helping my side stitches. We really start to pick up the pace closer to the end of the run and the guy tells me that he can’t hang anymore because of his side stitch. I start to encourage him to hang with me and finish with me. He fights the urge and pulls up beside me and we keep going. Now, I start thinking that I can’t just outsprint the guy because it seems like we are now in this fighting together. We forged an unlikely team. As we get close I tell the guy that I will not sprint on him at the end. He then tells me, “That’s ok ‘mate, you got me by ten minutes.” He is in the age group that started ten minutes in front of me. I never knew that but we had a good run leading into the end and we finished together.

We finished together and we gave each other high fives because we did pull each other along.

So the run was not near what I wanted but it was not too bad. Run time for 6.2 miles was 40 minutes and 44 seconds. 6:35/mile pace.

The race was a good race. I gave everything I could until my dang stomach just jacked me up. I really want to figure that out because I know I could knock out at least a 37 in the run if not faster.

All things considered it was a PR in my three events. Put in a normal transition and I would have done a time that I thought I could do.

Steve