ITU LC Duathlon World Championships

Race day could not arrive soon enough. I had promised myself that by midnight on Friday, I would start focusing on the race and put the shenanigans to the side. I also started taking some medication that day to help with the ITBS inflammation. The side effects were substantial. I made it to bed in due time but sleep was as distant as the far east. The steriod was causing major anxiety. I could actually feel an elevated heartrate. The elevated heartrate led to an increase in bloodflow and my core temperature to rise. All this as I was trying to get to bed.

I spent most of Saturday waffling around with fellow teammates. I had to register and prep that bike. It was a slow process. The afternoon was full of team events. We had our team photo around 3 pm and then were shuffled down to the pre-race briefing. Following that was the Parade of Nations. It was totally cheesy but entertaining. Then it was time for dinner. I selected a bland cheese pizza as to not upset the GI gods. Then off to bed!

It was an anomoly but my race wasn't until 1:30 in the afternoon. This will mess with you in a number of ways. First, who really wants to race in the middle of the day. Second, it leaves hours of axiety. What in the world do I do with all my nervous energy. Finally, it throws off the eating schedule. I have spent hours perfecting my pre-race meal. This throws a huge wrench in the plan. Nevermind that I am in a foreign country and the foot is drastically different.

I woke up around 6:30 that morning. My plan was to eat around 7:00 am. I wanted to focus of fruits, breads and a bit of protein. I then finished prepping the bike. The morning was really cool and rainy. Of course, I didn't bring any cold gear to the race. And really didn't want to worry about riding over the wet cobblestones that encased the middle of town. I kept most of my nervous energy at bay by pacing and watching the morning race.

Around noon, I made the trek to transition. It was time to go into race mode. I slipped on the ipod, found some loud techno and began to enter the zone. I went off by myself for a few minutes and began to stretch out. Given the volatility of my knee, I wasn't sure if I wanted to do a jogging warm up but I took in a few strides. Shortly after 1:00, I made my way to the corral and offered encouraging words to my fellow teammates.

At 1:22 pm, the gun went off. The course was four 4.5k laps through town that included a circle around the square and a long out and back section. It was a good course to see exactly where you were in the field. Little did I know how mind numbing and mentally taxing this would become.

As mentioned in my previous blog, my goals were simply. Keep it easy and pray that the knee holds up. The key was to say in zone 2 for the first run and try to not get demolished. Z2 would put me at about 75-80% of half marathon pace or 8:15-8:30 miles. Could I really even do this after only running 12.5 miles the whole month of July????

I have the propensity to go out a bit hard in the beginning of the race but I am usually able to dial it back within the first half mile or so. Well the herd took off ahead of me and I did my best to try to keep up. Occasional glances at my watch indicated that I was running faster than anticipated.

I finished mile 1 at 7:04. Oops. I haven't run that fast in months. And to make matters worse, I was fifth from last. That means of the entire field, only five people didn't go sub-7 in the first mile. Uh-oh. I think I am in over my head. There is no way I can compete with that. At mile 1.5 the professional women caught me and came soaring past me. At the out and back I could see where I was in the field. Duh...in the back. Surely they are going to slow down a bit. Mile 2: 7:50 and I am losing ground. What is worse is that I am losing the battle with my heartrate.

What is tough to stomach is getting your ass handed to you in a race. To think that I qualified for this race and I am not the least bit competitive. Not in the least bit. And by mile 2. I can blame the injury all I want but I was not really mentally prepared for this.

On my second lap, I have officially been lapped by the pro men. 30 minutes into the race, I am mentally defeated. I am trying to save face but I really don't know how. I have slowed to my race pace of about 8:15 but I am still running way out of zone. This is going to be ugly.

The back is a really lonely place. Another teammate and I are pacing off one another. Our heads are up only enough to look forward. It is silent and deserted in the back. To make matters worse, the last place guy, who is about half a mile back, has a cyclist following him to indicate the end of the race. On the long out and back, I actually see this. I am that close to being last.

I am trying to make the best of it as I pass through town and face other teammates cheering us along. I really debate if I should just pull out of the race and not deal with the lengthy recovery that will be required. But I have come too damn far.

On lap three, my knee is slowly starting to agitate me. But more important my iliopsoas is not happy. I have dealt with this before. I alter my gait and keep slugging through. The final 2 miles were pretty brutal. In the past 90 minutes I ran almost as far as I did in the past 30 days.

I made it to my bike. Well I had no problem finding my bike...there were only a few in there. I took my time in transition and was off on the bike. 4 laps of 18.5k.

Finally. Now to my strength. It was time to hammer, catch people and salvage my pride and dignity. Or so I thought.

I came hammering through town and the initial rural areas. My legs were fried. 90 minutes in zone 4 running will do that to you. I just needed to find some reserves and make it happen. I pushed my small chain ring for most of the first lap. My focus was high cadence, lowering my heartrate and putting nutrition in my body. Well I was 1 for 3.

My heartrate wasn't budging. Not sure why but it was being pissy. I put nutrition back. A little too much. I rode with a bottle of Infinit in my aerobottle. Mistake (damnit Dan!). I managed to take in about 300 calories in 30 minutes. That was supposed to take me at least an hour. I was suddenly really bloated.

I had ridden the course a few times so I was prepared for the technical turns and when to make a move. But I wasn't prepare for the fierce headwind. 20-25+ mph along the highway. And it was at an angle where it didn't benefit you much on the return. I finished the first lap slightly slower than I wanted.

I launched a small attack on the second lap. My HR was still through the roof and getting passed was killing me. I wasn't catching anyone. Where were the slow cyclists. When I made my first pass, I was sooper excited. It was one more person to beat.

Lap 3 was probably my best. I was still mentally engaged and I wanted to pick up the pace. I pushed and pushed. On the out and back sections I could see that I was gaining on a number of my teammates. By lap 4, I was exhausted. My HR had now spent 3.5 hours in zone 4 and sometimes higher. My legs were full of lactic acid. I was beat. I was still gaining on a few but everything hurt.

I hit transition moments behind my teammate Tim and we ran out together. The minute I got off the bike, my knee was screaming. I knew I wasn't going to be able to put together much of a run. I was just hoping that I put enough distance between me and a few others that I won't be dead last.

The first mile was tough but I made it through. At some point during mile 2, I allowed myself to walk and it went downhill from there. I was spent. My HR plummeted because I was behind on nutrition. I put together a walk-run process trying to get to the finish line. The first lap came and went. With each and every step, I knew I was closer and closer to the finish line.

Being back of the pack is rough. I have never had to experience this before. It is a ghost town out there. Aid stations are just stocked. Sometimes there are no volunteers. The crowd is all at the finish line. Competitors are far and few between. It is silence. Just you and your thoughts.

I hobbled through the final lap at a slow and casual pace. I was going to finish. I made it to the finish line ramp and can't even recall if I jogged up. I know I slowly walked back down. It was finally over.

I came, I saw, I got my ass kicked.

Run 1: 11.4 miles 1:33:38 (8:13 pace)
T1: 1:03
Bike: 46.1 miles 2:13:50 (20.7 mph)
T2: 0:58
Run 2: 5.6 miles 56:19 (10:04 pace)
Total time: 4:45:48