Dark Mountain Challenge

Dark Mountain Challenge - Oct 3rd - Wilkesboro, NC

Karen won the overall female competition in her 8+ mile kayak race. She has won overall before, but not at this length and not with very close competition. And more importantly, she had a perfectly executed race. I was extremely proud of her patience in taking the lead. She waited until well into the 2nd half before she pounced on the female leader and sprinted in for the win. That's exactly the way to do it! Congratulations Karen!!

I took 2nd overall in the off road triathlon. I was first off the water although there was a guy in a Thunderbolt who wasn't far behind and Dwight Shuler was in his Firebolt just behind 2nd place. We all came out of the water probably within 30 seconds of each other and hit a steep hill immediately afterward on foot. It was so steep you had to walk. Kind of strange to be duking it out for the overall lead and simply walking at the beginning of the run leg. We would later hit other hills just as steep as that over 4.5 miles. I was still in 1st after the run, but again, not by much. The bike leg was somewhat technical, but mostly just very hilly. Pretty fun course actually -- unless you just paddled and ran hard before-hand. Still, it was a fairly enjoyable roller coaster ride. Dwight had a definite edge on me for the bike as I figured he would. Dude is strong on the bike and living in the mountains can only help. There was one descent where he got up to 47 mph and I had hit 43 mph in the same spot. Pretty thrilling ride. He ended up winning the overall. Congrats to him! Karen and I had a nice time visiting with him and his girlfriend. They're like minded folks and good company.

DOUBLE RAINBOW

I have held off on posting anything new because I didn't want to knock Big George down. Alas, a beautiful double rainbow last night demanded attention.

After a shit day at work yesterday, I went out on the lake during the warm evening hours under a light rain. It was a wonderful ride. My surf ski glided along effortlessly. I was already beginning to forget about work when I noticed a stunning double rainbow along the shoreline. After rounding a finger of the lake I could suddenly view the entire breadth of its rays. I gazed from left to right and back again in awe. I looked around to see if anyone else was doing the same thing, but there wasn't a soul to be seen. It was overcast directly above, yet there was a setting sun to my right unabated by clouds... and the rainbow on the left was dazzling with brilliance as if to upstage the sun itself.

I quit paddling and sat in reverence, allowing myself to be swallowed by the enormity of it all.

Big George!!

Trivia: Which cyclist is way cooler and much more humble than Lance Armstrong?

On our way up to Dupont Forest for a few hours of mtn biking we drove up Caesar's Head on Hwy 276 North of Greenville. As we neared the peak we came across "a guy" in a Columbia jersey and we immediately knew who it could be. But due to switchbacks and the danger of trying to pass without seeing oncoming traffic we drove behind him for a while as we continued to guess if it was him or someone else with all the Team Columbia apparell. Eventually I came to my senses and looked at the speedometer. Yup! That did it. At a strong 15mph pace after 6 miles of climbing at a 7% grade it left little to chance who we were following. We got up along side and said "Hi George!" He waved back. Then we waited at the top looking for a sharpie in the Jeep so Karen could get an autograph on her jersey. After he went in and out of the bathroom we chatted with him for a couple minutes. He was happy to discuss his ride and asked if we were off to Dupont because he saw our mtn bikes on the back of the Jeep earlier. He explained that his shoulder was still on the mend from the Tour so he couldn't do any mtn biking yet. I broached the Tour de France and even told him he was robbed out of the yellow jersey, but he wasn't going there. Dodged that one by looking down at the ground. He stuck around for a picture and didn't leave until I was sure it took OK. Super nice guy. Kind of shy and embarrassed at how sweaty and smelly he was. Karen kept her distance as needed.

Later while mtn biking we were stung by yellow jackets and Karen fell several times, but throughout the day we kept thinking there wasn't hardly a thing that could spoil it for us. We were like little kids who got to meet their hero.

Oh, and we got to hike off trail up to and behind Bridal Veil Falls where some of the movie Last of the Mohicans was filmed. We crouched down under the rock behind the water like they did. Pretty neato.

For more pics click here http://picasaweb.google.com/pedalgrinder/Hincapie#

Odyssey One Day AR - July 25/26th

Bill Jordan and I drove up to Charlotte at 1:00 pm. Maps were going to be given out in New Castle, VA at 5:00 pm. And since map work can take several hours with UTM plotting and strategy planning, it’s a good idea to get there as early as you can. We had to pick up Bill’s teammate in Charlotte who had a speaking engagement up until 1:00 of which he would return sometime afterward. If I had my druthers I would have left by 5-6:00 am to head up to the campground hosting the race headquarters. If I had driven alone that’s what I would have done. But Bill and I figured we could carpool for the company and to save on gas. And Bill is like me in the sense he prefers to be totally prepared. He began packing a week before the event like I did. (There is just so much mandatory gear aside from all the nutrition you have to plan for yourself.) Doug, on the other hand, had everything sprawled out over his garage floor which was no surprise to Bill. He had obviously seen this before. So after arriving to Doug’s home before him we ate some lunch and then packed up all his gear. He’s not the best mechanic either so Bill and I were left to take care of his flat tire which was a whole ordeal in itself. The rim must have been compromised because the tubeless tire with Stans just wasn’t working. The tire would seat itself but then pop off. I suggested we get going and just put a tube on when we got to the race site. When we arrived to the campground the trip had taken as long as I thought it would and more than they thought it would. Bill was getting anxious to proceed with planning and Doug didn’t have a care in the world. No problem, I thought, because I’m on my own now. I can get started with my stuff. But after I got started Doug asked if he could borrow my UTM plotter. I thought he just mean for a brief moment, not for a fricken hour!! It was already like 6:30 pm and I had planned to have been there for a half day by then and have everything plotted. The race meeting was at 8 pm and it’s good to have studied the race course in order to ask any pertinent questions while you still have the opportunity. Doug’s idea was that we could plot together. I just sort of went with it and kept my cool, not questioning why he didn’t bring such an essential piece of equipment. That’s like not bringing your compass!

Anyway, I stayed up until 1:00 am studying over the maps and fell asleep by about 1:30 sleeping in a bag on the ground. Just used a bivy instead of a tent. Worked nicely. Got up at 3:30 am to stage the bike and get all the water I needed to start with. Set up my bike light and made sure it was working. Then had some grits and oatmeal. The grits were disgustingly high in sodium content. They had been sitting in my pantry for months and I only decided to wolf those down because I figured I’d be needing the salt. Gross!

The race began at 4:30 am with a prologue run around part of the 500 acres owned by the family who lives there and runs the campground. Pretty neat place which is mostly used for kids. It has ziplines and climbing walls and such. I had partnered up with another solo guy who Bill and Doug knew from the Charlotte area. He was a really strong climber. We started out in the middle of the pack for the run and worked our way through the rest of the 91 teams while climbing for about 1.5 hours up Bald Mountain. I was sweating like crazy, but the view at the top once daylight started to come around was just amazing. I was glad there was a checkpoint we had to stop for at the top. It was tempting to stay up there and just breathe in the mountain air and admire the stunning views. But it was time for some serious downhill action. And unlike a road bike I have found that I’m actually pretty darn good at descending on a mtn bike. With roots, rocks, and eroded areas especially I tend to pass tons of people. My solo buddy Mike stayed with me for the most part, but we just flew past the last few people who we hadn’t caught during the climb. At the bottom of the descent we made a wrong turn and realized it after a couple miles. Turned around and made another wrong turn. (These maps aren’t like road maps for those of you who are used to clarity). You can throw that out the window. Often adventure racing comes down to home field advantage and knowing certain roads and trails which aren’t even on the map because the map was designed back in the 1960’s. So often you’re just sort of winging it with only direction guiding you. If your compass shows that a logging road is heading East and you know you need to head West, then you find a different road. But if it’s heading Southeast or Northeast it *might* be the one you need. You sometimes just have to trust that it will begin to point correct itself rather than going further off course. And when there is no road you have to bushwack off road/off trail or what the term we use when you have a bike with you is “bikewhack”. Luckily we found the road we needed and spent some time biking down a pretty well maintained gravel road which lead up to our turnoff for a suspension bridge we crossed on foot. Barely enough room for ourselves let alone our bikes and other people. It was fun. We bounced all over with just two of us on it and there was a team of four behind us. We had some good rollers for a few miles as we passed other teams who got up ahead of us when we made our wrong turns. Mike was crushing the hills again and I was feeling the weight of my pack. I probably felt similar to Lance this year trying to climb with the young punks. Alas, I was able to stay on his wheel. Didn’t have an ounce more in me than that, but at least I could stay with him.

The trekking section was located all over Pine Mountain. I enjoyed this leg because I found that I could easily keep up with Mike now. He let me set the pace since I was at a good tempo for him. It kept him humming along. I slowed down or stopped once in a while to make sure I wasn’t going too hard for him and he ushered me onward so that told me he wasn’t hurting. We picked off a few points as we traveled pretty steady with Team Shake-A-Leg Miami. Their navigator dude had a strained IT band and since Mike was a therapist he gave him some advice. Later he even had the guy lie down and he worked it out for him. That was one happy guy! He quickly looked at his teammates and made sure they saw how Mike was applying the pressure. They made note of it. We decided to attack points 6 and 7 which were both optional. I’m SO glad we did. They were very scenic and some day I’ll get over there to show Karen the countryside around that area. We’ll probably recreate the exact course just because it was so cool. That’s the great thing about AR’s. They spread the points over some of the best terrain, lakes, and rivers to give you the best taste of any given area. You could plan for days and not get it quite right. That to me is part of the reason for entering these things. They are well worth the money.

We biked over to the canoe put in under the hot sun. It was really growing into a scorcher by then and the brief winds only offered a temporary cooling effect. The canoe leg involved each of us paddling solo with our bikes in the boat. For several months they intended for solos to use a kayak, but a week prior to the race a course change due to permitting made it imperative for us to have our bikes with us the entire time. That meant paddling a canoe with the bike’s clogging up your leg room -- as if paddling a canoe solo wasn’t difficult enough. Teams of 2 or 4 people had the power of two people to keep the boat moving forward and perhaps more importantly to keep it STRAIGHT! We spent 5 hours paddling while some teams were able to finish in 3.5 – 4 hours. And it’s not like I don’t paddle for fun while some of them do nothing outside of races. That was not my highlight of the day. I used up a ton of energy and my minor leg cramps after entering the James River grew into massive debilitating pain later downstream. I had to stop paddling and just massage the legs at times. Mike gave me two e-caps and that got rid of them very quickly. It was incredibly lucky for me that he had them. I thought I had some buried deep in my pack, but I had forgotten to bring them along.

At the canoe take out I was able to hear my shout-outs read to me. There were 4 at that time. One from Karen, Pete, the Bennett’s, and my parents. I would later get more from Karen’s parents and Beau & Freya. Those are pretty neat to hear. Reminds you that someone is watching in their own way.

I left the take out after hauling the canoe up a short steep hill (by myself – ugh!) and loading it on the trailer. Mike waited for me after arriving ahead of time due to some issues I had at the class II rapids we hit just before the take out. I got hung up on some rocks and had a bugger of a time getting out of that. We started to bike away and I realized I never had my passport signed so I had to go back. After correcting Mike’s initial decision to turn left on the road after the take out I told him to go on without me while I went back to take care of the passport. I had already gone through 6 bottles and two full 100 oz. bladders of water. Two of the bottles were Gatorade Endurance. I had been eating all day so far also and still I was just drained after that paddle. The sun was really getting to me in a bad way. I knew I had to make some water or find some soon. The two towns after the takeout did not have a single store or restaurant on hand. They were merely little “communities” if you can even call them that. But still, one thing you can always find is churches. And one thing Mike taught me is that churches always have spigots for water. The first one I checked had a fence on one side of it and it was right near the home of the pastor, reverend, priest sort of dude so I thought better of hopping the fence to look for the spigot I didn’t see on the other 3 walls. Too bad I had to bike up a steep hill to get to that one. I had to get off my bike and push due to the grade. The next church was a bit off the direction I was heading but it did turn out to be a winner. I called Karen to say hi and felt energized mentally by hearing her voice. It was great to surprise her with a call. We chatted for a bit about the race and local wildlife, including the little fawn I was staring at while speaking to her. Then it was back to biking. Only this time I was biking at my pace and didn’t feel the pressure to keep up the intensity Mike was able to hold on the climbs. Now it was just about me being alone on my bike in a peaceful mountain region. The sun was setting and soon I’d have to turn on my light, but I enjoyed every bit of that distance toward the town of Fincastle. I stopped at an Italian joint to get a couple big cups of orange soda. That felt good. In fact I didn’t think I possibly could have drank any more, but 10 minutes later, while cycling again, I found myself wanting another big gulp. I kept spinning at a moderate pace and went around Caldwell Mountain while climbing up to the pass between Broad Run Mountain and Price Mountain. Checkpoint 12 was waiting to be punched. I ate some Pringles and turned on my headlight now that it was getting to be quite dark. Next was an orienteering section which you could access from an off road trail along the ridgeline of Price Mtn or you could fly downhill on pavement and head East for 7 miles on a logging road. I think most people chose to take the roads although when I get back there to visit I’d love to check out the bike trail along the ridgeline. Could be great views during daylight.

I descended down into 40-50 mph gusts of wind as a thunderstorm hit suddenly, just since I had reached the top of the pass. It was a strange sensation to have that much wind hit you in the chest after you already gathered so much momentum while descending. It felt like it could just drop me 10-15 mph in a second, at will. It was crazy. And the rain made visibility extremely difficult. I was squinting to try to keep my eyes open without suffering the sting of the drops. The temp was plummeting now after the sun was totally gone and the storm rolled in. All of this occurred just a few minutes after being soaked in sweat from the heat and from the climb up to the pass. But that’s adventure racing for ya.

The next 30 minutes or maybe more involved a decision I made to go back to camp to ride out the storm before heading on the O-section. I got within probably 800 meters of the camp but there was no road that went directly to it from the location I was in so I gave up after donning my rain jacket and just decided to take another lonely ride over to the O-section about 10 miles away. There were several water crossings on the way to the O-section and some rollers, but nothing bad for terrain. Lots of little eyes glowing in the dark and scurrying into the forest upon spotting me.

I got to the O-section and was surprised to see multiple teams studying over their maps instead of being out in the woods on the prowl for points. Some had probably just arrived there but I think many of them were trying to regroup after realizing how difficult the navigation was. The woods were extremely dense with tons of undergrowth. You could fall and the vegetation would catch you. It was that thick in most places. It was also very wet and sloppy so the hills were interesting to gain footing. Very difficult nav work. I was about to go for my first point when I heard Team Action Learning’s name being called out. It turned out that Bill and Doug were just checking in to head out also. We decided to team up and work together. That lead to 2-3 hours of trying to find a single point with a lot of head scratching and re-strategizing. We were able to verify our location in just a couple places, but beyond that was extremely difficult. There simply wasn’t enough detail on the map to work from. In hindsight there were two other points that would have been easier to attack, but I had chosen a certain point based on a trail shown on the map which in reality had probably disappeared from lack of use about 20 years ago.

I was beat and very fatigued. I knew that I needed to start hydrating and eating if I were to keep at it for another few hours but I really lost the desire to stay out there. I said my goodbye’s and biked onward toward the camp, going almost completely around it before I found a road heading into it. I took a shower at the facility and stuck my dirty, wet clothes in a bag while changing into some capilene. Then I pulled out my sleeping bag and bivy and fell fast asleep.

By sunrise, 3.5 hours later, I was awoken by a dog running downhill toward me through the dew covered grass. I looked up to see a big smiling brown dog with a halo of sun come up and sniff me before taking off on a sprint in another direction. It was a great way to wake up. I had no regrets from the night before and was ready for breakfast inside the shelter.

What a beautiful place that was!

Coeur D'Alene - 2009

Karen and I went out to Idaho recently. We had a great time. Feel free to read about our experience.

Never having adjusted to the Pacific time zone from East coast I was still operating under a 3 hour difference. I was able to stay up until 9 or 10pm, but I rose at 4:00-5:00 am every day which Karen called my ‘wandering time’. “You’re going to go wander now aren’t you?”, she’d say with a feeble lift of her head from the pillow through squinted eyes. “Yup!”, I shouted back enthusiastically. I’d go downstairs and check my personal and work e-mail accounts and then I’d read in the lobby area which had a nice, comfy sofa. First it was Angels & Demons until I finished that. Then I switched to The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie. Intermittently I would also peck at the continental breakfast which had not yet been formally laid out. I never waited for everything to be placed on the counter. I knew where all the cereal, milk, and omelettes were hiding.

On the first day, we drove around town and especially the outskirts so Karen could see some of the countryside where my dad, me, and Ken Bougie had camped for a portion of the last time we had visited in 2003. Karen and I found a trail to check out also so we did a little hiking on the south side of Lake Coeur D’Alene. She was warming up to the area already. The next evening certainly didn’t hurt to find a special place in her heart for this lovely mountain town. That was the day I proposed to her at the end of the bike trail along the lake. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon as we stood under some old growth pines. The area is known for these trees. That and moose. They’re big on moose as our pictures will show. All sorts of moose statues. Never saw a live one though, unfortunately. I was lucky Karen was a trooper in walking the distance to the end without water. As memory served we didn’t have much more than 1.5-2 miles to go one way, but in reality it was 3 miles (6 roundtrip) and it was quite warm that day. We made it to the end and I was losing attention to anything she had been discussing at the time as we walked through switchbacks climbing the hill at the end of the trail. I kept turning to view the lake and check for the right spot to pop the question. I kept walking knowing there would be a better place. Karen found a trail leading away at one point and suggested we could take that route to return to the car. I motioned her onward which thankfully she was obliged to do. We got to the very top of the hill where it opened up into a tiny park. This looked like a good place, I thought, except for one thing. The scent of pines was quickly replaced with the odor of the park toilet, outhouse style. We were downwind of it and I had to get her out of there quick. If she passed out I wouldn’t be able to ask the big question! I coaxed her along the side of the park and moved over to a 3-way view of the lake. The sun was at a perfect level, illuminating the hill we were on but not blinding us. I stutter stepped because I wasn’t quite sure we were in the right spot. I’m kind of finicky at times and this was definitely one of those times. She commented on my maneuver and wondered what I was doing. I took about 3 full steps and found that “perfect” place I was looking for. Then I explained, “I was looking for the right spot” -- dropping to one knee – “to ask you to marry me”. I was unexpectedly teary-eyed and I was sure she saw that emotion sweep over me. Surely her knees were about to buckle and she’d throw her arms around me sobbing for joy, right? Well, not exactly… She looked at me as if I just suggested we hike another 20 miles without water before turning back to the car. “Are you serious?”, she demanded. I stayed on one knee and may have confirmed or maybe I didn’t need to… can’t remember exactly. But after that brief moment she had been taken aback, the emotion caught up with her also and she shed a rare tear saying YES!

It was a couple minutes later after enjoying the view with the sunset over the lake with no-one else around that we began to walk away from the spot. I started to let her in on another surprise while I patted my empty front pockets of my shorts and said, “ummm, I aint got a ring on me or nuthin’, but…” I was cut off by a roar of laughter. She didn’t care at all. She just commented on how cute I was by saying that. Wasn’t really the point I was getting at, I was thinking to myself.

A minute later I was able to break in again and mention that the only one in the world who knew I was going to do this was Doug Bushnell. I knew she’d recognize the name as the almighty master of boat building. Kayaks that is. Super fast, lightweight, amazingly high performance kayaks. This guy is the Soup Nazi of the kayak world. His website is designed as if he offers some sort of highly customizable service with options galore. And that is somewhat true. You can order boats in different types of material and he has a boat designed for just about any condition of water or size/ability of paddler. He gives you options for paint color and netting and different types of rudders or steering systems, etc. But basically you walk in and order a boat knowing exactly what you want. You allow him to adjust your mindset as to what you really need, accept his ‘suggestion’ with gratitude, sidestep to the cash register and pay the man and say you’re excited, but NOT in any hurry to get the boat. He will complete it when you fall into the schedule, not before. He will take his time to do the job right. He will not be rushed. You call him and check on status only when he suggests. (And I personally make sure I remind him I’m calling upon his suggestion to check on status). Then you wait to see what color he decided your boat would be and you begin heavy training to make sure you can do justice to the speed potential of the boat.

My first conversation with Doug lasted over an hour. We talked about all things paddling – how he used to drink straight from rivers in the old days, various races and their history, paddling technique, other makes and models of boats, PFD’s, etc, -- but mostly about how great his boats are and how much I heard about his reputation as a fine boat builder. I left out the horror stories about how he’s hung up on customers who upset him. And the story about how he threatened to take a chainsaw through a boat he heard someone was going to modify. He couldn’t stand to hear anyone was going to change a beloved creation of his. I believe that was a Thunderbolt, one of his most popular models. No, we left that gossip out. Instead he told me about the old days of paddling and about the evolution of his models. How the Bullitt K2 I was ordering had come out of the EFT (extra fast tourer) design mold. He just extended that to allow for an additional cockpit. Wise idea. The EFT has won its class at the USCA Nationals so many times that they’ve decided to outlaw it for that division and move it up a class.

When I told Karen Doug knew about this proposal idea, which he was touched, but not overly surprised by, she hesitated a couple of seconds while the implications sunk in. Then she swung her palm to cover her palpitating heart and NOW her knees finally buckled. She really looked like she may fall to the ground. That was a humbling experience. Apparently the engagement thing didn’t do it in itself. J I had followed up on a comment she had made about showing my commitment to her by some day buying us a tandem kayak. Correction, THE tandem kayak. We will be unstoppable with it. And the point is that we will spend lots of time on the water together.

Luckily by then I had already moved our lodging accommodations to a Super 8 just north of town. We had been in a little place called the Budget Saver which was much closer to the event, and honestly for the name it wasn’t such a bad place. It was small but not bad other than the bed. It appeared as though the bed had been used by a 500 pound man. There was a depression in the middle. And their garbage can in the bathroom was apparently ripped off from the Best Western. Plus, it was just down the road from the Bates Motel. No joke. I have pictures to prove it.

The day before my race Karen had a hyperacidity issue and we had to take her to urgent care. She was not doing well at all. It was at that point I was really sorry no one made the trip with us. What would happen while I was on the course and couldn’t check on her? Should I even do the race? We thought it was an ulcer at first. They gave her some cocktail of meds that looked like toxic waste and judging from her reaction it must have tasted like it too. We waited the customary 30 minutes or so for the doc to return as we talked, paced, and played with medical tools. You know, the usual stuff. In that time she began to feel better. When she finally had to pee (who wouldn’t eventually during a typical 2 hour visit?) they analyzed her urine and did a blood test to rule out an infection. All was good on that front and they gave her Protonix for the hyperacidity.

The other issue going on that day was my rear tire. That damn tire! Actually it was the version of extend valve I can’t stand. I’ll never use it again. I use sew-up tires which are also called tubulars. You glue them right on the rim instead of using tubes with tires separately. Works fine unless you need to do a quick change. You should really scrape off the old glue from the rim and have another tubular ready to go with 2 coats of glue for good tack. You don’t play around with this stuff too much ‘cause your life can be on the line if you’re heading downhill and hit a curve at 50 mph. Or if you’re doing a criterium and encounter all sorts of centripetal force while hanging on the wheel in front of you around a tight bend. But luckily, I’m an absolute incurable wimp on the downhills, and I didn’t see the need for hitting tight corners. Thus, I applied two coats of glue to a good tire I had along for the trip and only allowed 3 hours total for it to dry before I applied the tire to the rim and dropped my bike off in the TA before the deadline the evening before the race.

I woke up before the event plenty early. I had been slightly nervous leading up to that day unlike normal. I knew I had never been in this kind of shape for the bike or run before. Swimming fitness was about the same or maybe slightly better than normal. I certainly put more distance in for the swim than ever before and plenty of intensity. But the bike had me pumping 300 watts for a benchmark test instead of just the 280 I would normally hit at peak fitness. And I could run 6 minute miles for a sprint or sub-8 min/mile for 20 miles through rolling terrain. I SO wanted to use that fitness! My biggest fear was that I’d have a mechanical issue on the bike. I felt as though I had my nutrition plan down after multiple long training sessions where everything went fine. I knew not to fall behind in calories and I knew which food sat well in my stomach. I knew the breakfast of oatmeal always served me well in the past and I would have Gatorade Endurance formula on the course, just as I had been racing with. Perfect. Weather was calling for rain, but not until later in the day and frankly I welcome it during the run leg. Cool conditions could only give me an advantage over all the folks from Southern climates who were competing that day.

I got to the event really early and checked tire pressure. Good on both front and back. Wonderful, I thought. Everything is falling into place. I was confident and relaxed. I was even my goofy self with Karen as we chummed around that morning during pre-race prep. I wasn’t taking things too seriously and had just been enjoying the moment. The swim distance looked very doable where normally it psyches me out at least a tiny bit. Even the big crowd of people in the mass start didn’t freak me out much. I figured I’d beat 75% of them to the first buoy and the people ahead of me I’d just have to wiggle through.

All this sounds good so far, but my nemesis of the day was to be introduced as soon as the gun went off.

Swim - The wind was strong and the waves were big. We started into a headwind similar to my practice swim from the day before. I was able to avoid most of the punching, kicking, and clawing but those waves were pretty brutal. I felt like I was in a fairly good rhythm in the first lap despite some slow bodies getting in the way once in a while and people converging from the left and right cutting me off. The tailwinds were almost like surfing especially on that 2nd lap. I was surprised to see a split of 35:xx minutes. A slow time even with my conservative strategy. I thought I'd pick it up a notch on the 2nd lap since things were spreading out a little better. I went in at a higher intensity but the waves were bigger. I could see a dark cloud brewing overhead and the wind was picking up. Many head checks showed no buoys to key on, but rather just a big 'ol wall of water. My swim strokes were often pummeled before I could lunge into the wave. At times I opened my mouth for a breath and was greeted by only water in both my nose and mouth. I had to try to spit back the water and hold my breath and come up again quickly between wave peaks which disrupted the rhythm quite a bit. And more critically it caused me to gasp for air. Things never go well for me when I start gasping for air. I swallow it to the point my gullet swells into a pregnant woman shape. And I am NOT kidding. It gets HUGE. My swim split was 1:11 and some change. Which I learned later wasn't so bad for the day.

Bike - I came out of T2 feeling severely bloated and later felt nauseous. I thought it would pass with 1-2 hours, but it just lingered for the ENTIRE freakin' bike leg. It was painful to get into the TT position - I was that bloated. Still, I thought if I could at least hold around 19mph I would maybe recover later for a good run, and it still wouldn't be impossible to turn in a solid day's performance. I forced myself to eat although I could hardly bear the thought of any food or even gel. I had several bananas which were the lesser of evils. I only had 2 Hammer bars when normally I'd have 1 each hour. My intensity was so low that I couldn't feel any sweat until about mile 60, and that only lasted for a little while. I only went through 1.5 bottles of water and one bottle of Gatorade. In fact, I only drank 12 ounces of the Gatorade and had 12 oz remaining after the event was over. So that was about 30-32 oz of hydration in almost 6 hours of cycling. Normally I would go through 80-100 ounces on a hot day with higher intensity and hold over 20mph through similar terrain. I just wasn't needing the hydration with the low intensity. The course was very scenic though, and thankfully I had that to keep my mind occupied. Much like the Tour de France there were people dressed up in all sorts of costumes. It was interesting to see the creativity and just plain weirdness all over the place. But what was incredibly welcome to me were the guys playing bagpipes during a climb in the beginning of the bike leg. They were really good. Five of them if I remember right. I couldn’t clap as I climbed the hill, but I gave them a thumbs up and motioned with my fist to applaud their services. I was able to see them on each lap which was quite a treat. After them was the whole team of cheerleaders from the local high school. Like every other group they stayed out there throughout the entire bike leg cheering for every passerby. There were Boy Scout troops, military troops - you name it. And they held their position for the entire day helping anyone in need. I came across an old lady in a nightgown who was pulling on a rope to ring a bell in front of her house. She had chosen to sit by the second time I came around, but she was determined to keep dinging that bell. I loved the tall pine trees, country homes, immaculate landscaping everywhere (seriously everywhere), and views from 300 feet or so over Hayden Lake and lakeside of Coeur D'Alene Lake. I just stayed in my survival mode watching everybody and their brother pass me. I seriously wondered how people could still be passing me after 5 hours. I had to think at some point there weren't any folks left who could fly by me so effortlessly. I rode out of the aero bars on almost every tailwind to limit the pain from bloating and accepted my mediocrity on the bike, which was quite difficult after knowing what I had done for training. I should have had a bike split among the top 10-15% of the entire field. I had done a split of 5:12 in IM FL and although that was flat terrain, I was in better shape for this event. I could have done 5:30 and had enough in the tank for the run leg, but it wasn’t meant to be. I wondered what my gut would do during the run leg.

Run - My legs felt good and at first my gut didn't hurt. I was at least in an upright position now instead of bent over my bloated belly. First 5+ miles were at just over an 8' pace. About 8:15 I think. I was happy about that. The gut just wasn't going to stay quiet though. After having puked up a little vomit early in the bike leg (just to set the tone for the day) I had an all out dry heave fest going on at about mile 8 or 9 of the run. Some military volunteer dude came over to see if he could help me. He got a kick out of my humor and attitude of the moment. I was quite chipper about the experience. I thought I could finally get on with my day after that episode which had been threatening for about 7 hours. Too long in my book. Later on while walking for a while behind a couple guys I noticed one of them had really bad gas. He was farting every couple seconds it seemed like. And they were noisy! Apparently it’s acceptable to fart in public if you’re in an athletic event. They were talking to each other as if they were seated at a bar just enjoying each other’s company. Never did either of them acknowledge the abundance of gas loudly escaping from one (or maybe both) of them. I didn’t have enough energy to laugh but even for the altered state you tend to be in during the late portion of an IM event it sure seemed weird to me.

I began to finally take in more food that I thought I could keep down, choosing carefully between soup broth, pretzels, cookies, banana, etc. I was taking in enough fluids and learned by trial and error which foods would work with which drink. At first I was barely taking in enough calories to ward off a bonk. I was tipsy for a while and took in more calories slowly but surely. By about mile 14, I was starting to run longer stretches at a time. It was then that I started to notice just how bad off some of the other folks were. Some people were already suffering from the early, or maybe even mid stages, of hypothermia. Once in a while you’d see someone shivering in the wind along the lake looking ghostly white. They hadn’t started handing out the foil blankets yet at that point and I saw some sportsmanlike competitors wrap one arm around the ghostly people and hold them tight to their side to try to offer some body heat. This is definitely the point in the Ironman where you begin to realize it’s just an event. It’s not a race. You can act like it is, train like it is, talk like it is, and you can even pace yourself for a while like it is, but that simply doesn’t last. Eventually you zone out and get quiet. You begin to only think of the finish line. You readjust your finishing time goals just for the hell of it. You don’t care nearly as much as you did before, but if your mind is still functioning you prefer to concentrate on something. You do some calculations on what you think you can cover for distance in X amount of time or think about your pace per mile and then you trudge forward to simply finish the job. Talking requires energy. You use hand signals to choose your food or drink or to communicate further with the crowd. Rarely do you break your silence in zombie mode. Just finish the day, you tell yourself. Put it behind you. Move on with your life.

Well, you move on, that is, until after you triumphantly cross the finish line and your fiancé suggests we do another IM together the following year and get married that weekend. Then you stand in the rain, wind, and cold… totally exposed to the elements as the finishing area euphoria fades and the pain quickly sets in. You begin to shiver unaware of the dirty look you’re displaying to your lover. Then you groan out a feeble, barely audible, “OK… maybe” or something like that.


Now that I see my splits from Ironmanlive.com, I'm a little surprised the 2nd leg of the run and especially the 3rd split weren't a little faster. I felt as though my gut was feeling TONS better by then, but my legs were starting to feel the miles by about 21-22 of the run. Plus I walked through the aid stations and took time to eat and drink to try to have a decent finish and avoid collapsing at the end. The weather for the last couple hours dropped to 50 degrees with rain and high wind. It felt pretty good actually. Kept the core temp low when I was able to pick up the intensity. Tough for some folks from warm climates though. No 3:30 run split. And no 10:30:00 finish time, but after adjusting my goal to 11:30 at mile 20 of the run I was pleased to have done that.


Post race vacation time:

Karen and I were able to trail hike the next day despite the weather continuing to deteriorate. We came across a 6 year old female Vizsla named Alex who would normally have had her brother, an older German Shorthair, along but he had bone cancer. The day after that we went paddling for two hours in a tandem kayak and hiking for another hour. We took a bunch of pictures to be sure we captured the images other than just by memory.

The town there is almost entirely dependent on tourism. The Ironman event is THE biggest event they hold there every year. There is a huge influx of visitors that week. Aside from just the athletes, there are a good deal of family and friends who also make the trip. That is a lot of money pumped into the local economy after a long, quiet winter. The local businesses are sure to have longer hours and more people on staff to accommodate the extra activity. The restaurants in Coeur D’Alene do a great job of encouraging repeat visits. We didn’t have a single bad, or even average, meal. We ate at several different places, some of which I had remembered from my visit in 2003 and with all the variety of food we enjoyed every bit of it. You can have all types of Asian food - even Vietnamese which we didn’t bother with - Mongolian, Greek, and Italian… ohhhhhhh, the Italian. I swear I will never eat Italian food again without comparing it to Tomato’s in Coeur D’Alene. That stuff is to die for!!

What a trip it was. Karen was able to leave Bubba, her African Gray parrot, for a full week without missing him too, too much. And the trip did him some good too. He was being a little snot before she left and now that we’re back he is all kisses. He even tried to regurgitate for her over a phone conversation they had while we were out in Idaho.

Yes, a daily phone call with Bubba. Priceless!

Training, training, and more training

Karen is paddling her butt off in preparation for this year's kayak races.

I've done a few off road triathlons which went well, but lately I've been in full training mode for IM CDA. I have the Assault on Mt. Mitchell next week to help prepare for the hills in Idaho. But my cycling has been coming around lately. And running has been there for me for months now. I was a little worried I peaked too early with that, but keeping the volume up along with additional speed training has helped to keep run fitness where it had been.

Looking forward to a great trip out in Idaho. Karen's going to love the scenery. - JW