Now, exactly where is Hiawassee? Hiawassee is nestled in the upper right corner of the State of Georgia, and the lake (Chatuge) is shared with the great state of North Carolina. Dee Dee has her upcoming tri next weekend, and as such, we negotiated our schedules at the restaurant over the next couple of weeks.
She was going to work for me Saturday night, and I was going to work for her Saturday night before her tri. Sounded like a good deal to me. The only strange part of the arrangement was that I had agreed to work Friday night before my own tri. Hmmmm. Okay. Seems fair. I just didn't want Dee Dee burning herself out for me so that I could tri. I would take it all in stride.
Thursday night, I took the opportunity to get all my stuff together. I made a checklist from my tri book and put it into a spreadsheet. I printed it out and proceeded to gather everything together for the race. The only things missing were the kinds of things I would have to do the morning of the race. Things like, prepare my bottle, rack my bike, yada, yada...
Friday the restaurant was really busy. Dee Dee had a great lunch, and dinner was steady. I feel guilty about leaving the kids there by themselves, so I ended up staying there until around 9 PM. Unfortunately for me, I spent most of that time on my feet. At the end of the night, I spent a fair amount of time keeping a seat near the bar warm, until finally, I realized that I had better head out before I absolutely wore myself out.
Dee Dee had taken Jimmy to his soccer practice. When I got home to eat dinner, I had a choice. I could either cook myself some noodles and have some left over spaghetti for dinner, or I could eat PB & J sandwiches. I opted for the sandies :-) Once again, I am setting a standard for pre-race nutrition. Sushi and PB & J sandwiches! LOL.
The good news is that I slept well. I don't usually sleep great before a race, but Friday night, I slept pretty good. The alarm went off at 4:30 AM. I got up, got dressed, made myself some coffee, and had my breakfast. Since everything was pretty much packed, all I had to do was rack the bike, throw my bags in the car and head out. For some strange reason, we didn't quite make it out the door until like 5:20 AM (bathroom break!!). I was hoping to make it to Hiawassee by 6:30 AM, but I misjudged the distance and the amount of time it would take to actually get there.
We had a pleasant ride up. It was amazing at how much fog was in the morning air. I knew that we were heading into the Smokey Mountains, but the fog (smoke :-) was actually obscuring most of the views from us. As we drove north, I got to see places that I had heard about but had never seen (dark and foggy as it were!). Jasper, Elijay, Blairsville... All little towns that my customers had often talked about, but places I had never been, despite living in Woodstock for over 13 years. The ride itself was a straight shot. The highway was four lanes almost the entire way. About half way, Dee Dee saw a shadow dart across the road. She asked me if I saw it, and asked that I watch for deer. Sure enough... Another doe ran across the road in front of us. Suddenly, I could see myself having a "deer accident" on the way to the race. I moved into the left lane and prayed that no more deer would try to cross the road to see what was on the other side!
We arrived in Hiawassee just as the sun was starting to come up. We managed to find the entrance to the park with no problem. I was confused at first as the directions I had didn't quite add up, but once I saw a car in front of me carrying a bike on the back, I knew all was good. We scored a parking spot at the far end of the lane, and Dee Dee and I unpacked the car and carried everything to transition.
Since the transition area was so small, I picked out a good spot at the end of the first line. It was close to the entrance to transition and not too far from the exit. While we were setting up, the race director said that, due to the fog, the race might be delayed for a bit. I took that as an opportunity to warm up a bit. I ran around the camping area by transition a couple of times to get the old legs tuned up. I was feeling pretty good. All my muscles seemed to have healed up fine during my lackadaisical taper week. After that, I dug my goggles out of the bag and headed down to the lake for a swim. I only had like fifteen minutes before the 7:45 AM meeting.
Like all lakes in Georgia, Chatuge was well below its normal level. As such, the beach area where the triathlon was supposed to start was covered in rocks. I'm not talking about nice round rocks either, but quarter sized and larger, specifically designed to irritate the feet and cause bruising. I gingerly made my way down into the water and swam around for a bit. The water was definitely comfortable. This made me very happy. For some reason, I still have this thing about cold water :-) I swam out to the island and back, and then along the shore. Before I knew it, my fifteen minutes was up, and it was time to head back for the pre-race meeting. In retrospect, I wish that I had pushed myself harder during the warm up. Much like running, the lungs need to be stressed before the start of the swim. This helps prepare them for optimal oxygen intake, provided of course you aren't sucking water! LOL.
Myself, and the other 100+ athletes gathered outside the race directors trailer for the meeting. He went into great detail about the race route. He apologized for the rocks and said that it was an unexpected thing, but we would just have to deal with it. He also explained that nobody at this race was going to make it to Kona, and nobody was going to win a lot of money, so everybody needed to stay safe and be courteous to the population of Hiawassee who went out of their way to make sure we all were taken care of on race day.
While we were listening to the RD, I got the opportunity to evaluate the competition. This would hardly be noteworthy if not , for this race, things were so different. First of all, there were only 100 or so competitors in this race, a small race for sure. The good news was it was a forty percent increase over last year. The other thing that struck me was that almost everybody doing this race was a seasoned triathlete. There were very, very few comfort and hybrid bikes. Not that these kinds of athletes weren't welcome, mind you. If you know much about triathletes, you know we are an inclusive bunch :-) Every athlete for this race was lean, mean, and ready to get down to bidness!!
After the meeting, we headed down to the beach to get ready. Due to the fog, the race was delayed. The RD couldn't start the race until the Fire/Safety department gave the all clear. They had to see the athletes in order to be able to rescue them. Many of us took this opportunity to get wet again, and get warmed up. I swam around in the water a bit, then stood on shore, waiting for the race to finally get under way.
Check out those rocks! Ouch!! In that particular picture, I'm trying to get a good idea of where Dee Dee left her flip flops for me! LOL. I did NOT want to run across the rocks to the grass. We ended up not having to wait too long. The sun came up and the fog began to lift. The athletes decided that they didn't want to run across the rocks to start the race, so we all waited in the water for the race to begin.
Evidently, the RD didn't want to argue with us :-) He came down to the lake, got in his boat, and began the count down. I prefer things to be a little more organized, but they were ready to go. He gave us a five minute heads up, then counted down from there. As the count down got closer, I made my way down to the inside in neck deep water. With a bang, the gun went off, the throng of people started to swim, and the biggest race of my life was on.
The scene around the lake was serene as the starting gun went off. The safety patrol was on the lake in boats, kayaks, and wave runners. The swim was going to be a two loop affair. A race official was going to be standing on the beach, recording our splits. We had to come out of the water, run around her, then back into the water for the second lap. I put my face down into the water and began to swim for the first buoy on the corner of the island.
The swim started off fairly good. I was in the lead pack of twenty to twenty five swimmers and felt fairly comfortable. I'm not sure if it was adrenaline or the "pack" syndrome, but I started out too fast. As I approached the corner of the island, it hit me.
Some of you may or may not be aware that I have been dealing with what used to be a serious bout of acid reflux for the past three years. Since I've lost all this weight, I no longer take medication to control it, but an after affect seems to be that my nose runs down the back of my throat, excessively. Usually a dip in the pool or the lake will clear it up for me, but every once in a while, it causes me to gag, and that's what began to happen as I reached the corner of the island.
Now, this happens every so often, and I've practiced recovering in the pool, but this was the first time that it had happened in a race. One, two, three gags I can handle, but five in a row, and I just wasn't able to breath. I took a direct route to the shore of the island and found a place where I could stand. You have no idea how embarrassed I was. I took a deep breath (or a hundred), sat there and watched what seemed like nearly everybody pass me by. After what seemed like an eternity (maybe 10-20 seconds), I got going again, but I still couldn't catch my breath. I was forced to freestyle and breast stroke around the back end corner of the island. I intentionally took a tack in closer to shore on the back side. Half way around the back of the island, I put my foot down to feel for the bottom and made contact with an extremely sharp rock. I felt that pain course through my foot. I wondered if it was bleeding. It was that sharp. I didn't really have time to check it out though.
I went and continued on and struggled around the other back corner of the island. I breathed a sigh of relief as the landing came into site, and I tried to find my rhythm so I could look good for the peeps on the beach.
Finally, I lumbered up onto the beach, grateful to have a chance to catch my breath. The endorphins had, by this time, kicked in, and I no longer felt the pain in my foot. Oh yea, I admit it. The thought crossed my mind to just say "screw this" and DNF right then and there. Then, I remembered my friends, and their trials and tribulations on the their long swims, and the thought processes they went through after their own DNFs, and I vowed to continue. Muttering under my breath, I quashed that negative thought, put my goggles back on and entered the lake for my second lap, vowing this time to do better.
I just find it so funny that I can seemingly swim forever in the pool and even in the lake when I am not racing, but come race day, I have such difficulty. I came off my last swim with such a high, and this one was kicking me right in the guts. I quickly found my rhythm on the second lap. When I dealt out a slow measured pace, my breathing was fine. I even started to pass people. Even my slow measured pace was faster then the swimmers around me. That gave me some confidence. I rounded the first bouy and headed for the back of the island without stopping. I breast stroked just a little for sighting, and to take a break, but I could feel the tightness in my legs. Evidently the first lap had taken more out of my legs than I would have liked. The back end of the island passed rather quickly, and before I knew it, I was heading back for the landing. I took that opportunity to breast stroke for a few more meters to catch my breath, then I took off. I really wanted to finish strong.
At last, I arrived back at the landing. I located Dee Dee's flip flops, but my legs weren't working properly, and I couldn't get them on. After trying several times, I got frustrated, threw them at Dee Dee and walked across the rocks to the grass. I handed the race officials my swim cap, noted my time, and headed for the transition area. I came out of the water in under twenty eight minutes. That was well within my goal time. I couldn't help but wonder what my time would have been if I hadn't wasted so much of it in the water.
Pushing all those thoughts behind me, I jogged into T1 and got ready for the bike. I put on my helmet and my sunglasses, followed by my socks and shoes. I strapped on my Road ID, race belt, and Garmin, but I forgot to power it on. As I walked towards the exit, I noticed that the Garmin wasn't turned on and cursed under my breath. It would just have to do.
I wasn't going to wait for it to synch up. (Incidentally, I also forgot to put it in bike mode.) As my area in transition faded behind me, I failed to realize that I had covered all of my nutritional products with my towel. They were sitting there where I left them, untouched.
At the bike mount zone, I once again had trouble clipping in. My legs just weren't cooperating. With a little effort, I managed to get both feet in without falling over and began to spin my way out of the park and onto the 23.5 mile loop around the lake....
As I started out on the bike, I was struggling to recover physically, mentally, and emotionally from the swim. Physically, the blood hadn't quite started flowing back to the legs, despite my best efforts at kicking the last 200 meters or so. Mentally, I was coming around a lot faster. I had done very well on the second half of my swim. I did the first lap in 14 minutes and some change, and I completed the second lap in 13 minutes and change. I'll take a negative split and a good second lap any day. Emotionally? Blech... I was mad at myself for doing such a crappy job on the first lap, and I had a long bike ride ahead to think about it.
As I left the mounting area, I made a right down the entrance into the park. Dee Dee was there waiting for me to snap my picture and cheer me on. I would be remiss not to mention what a great job Dee Dee did of capturing the race.
I wasn't in a big hurry to spin up the hill on the way out. I had used my legs way to much during the first lap of the swim, and they were tired. Dee Dee snapped a picture of me on the way out from the back side. I'm sure she was fixated on my butt, but ignore that for a minute and see if you can pick out the lines running through my left leg. My muscles were clenched and tight. Not a good thing for starting out the ride.
As I exited the park, I made a right turn onto the highway and began a long descent to the road that would take us north. I was on the tail end of a group of about five riders. Within the first mile of the bike, I got passed by a couple of people with some really sweet rides.
Once we reached the intersection with Hwy 515, we made a right turn and headed north into the State of North Carolina. I thought that was very cool. I had never raced in two states in one event. It was on this section of the route that the rolling hills began. Stupid me forgot to set my Garmin on cycle, so I had no idea what my current or average speed was. I was however, setting some records for running pace :-)
For the next eight miles or so, a young thirty-six year old woman and I played tag. She would pass me on the uphills, and I would pass her on the downhills. The route around the lake was beautiful. I remember traveling past the golf course and seeing a group of golfers waiting to tee off. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not totally confident in the golfing abilities of the residents of Hiawasee, and their fairway was right next to the road upon which I was traveling. I breathed a collective sigh of relief as I rode further up the fairway and saw that they were waiting on a group of golfers to exit the fairway. I was safe for the moment.
As I passed striped tri-shorts girl one final time, I joked with her and said we have to stop meeting like this, and on the next hill, we did. Stop meeting that is. She powered up the hill, and I let her go. I basically admitted that she was more fit than I was, and if I spent the entire bike course trying to keep up with her, I was going to die. For the next 10 miles, I kept her within a quarter of a mile or so, until even then I couldn't keep the pace any more. It was the last time I saw her until I made it back to the entrance of the park.
Around mile 10, I felt the rumble of my stomach demanding food. At that point, I remembered that I left my food in the transition area and silently cursed the triathlon gods. I had remembered to fill my bottle with Accelerade, and I used that to satisfy my hunger a bit. The problem is that whenever I drink on the bike, it gives me gas and upsets my stomach. I managed to down a quarter of the bottle over the entire 23.5 miles.
Around mile 12, I thought to myself I've been going for a while, I have to be getting close to the end. K? You can stop laughing now. I was serious. I had been busting my arse like I was on a sprint and had basically given it everything I had for the first twelve miles. Of course, the problem was that I still had half the distance to go. I got really really mad at myself at that point. What the hell was I doing? This was fun? If I didn't come out of the gate like a bull in a china shop, I wouldn't be already so dang sore and tired and frustrated with half the bike left to complete. Well, I took that opportunity to channel my anger. I knew I had it in me to finish the bike. I had trained hard. Eleven miles was nothing! I focused on pedaling from the core. My legs were nothing more than levers of my core muscles. They did no work what so ever.
For the next four miles this strategy worked beautifully. I tried hard to enjoy the scenery. The lake was beautiful. I remember going past a pasture of beautiful horses that were laying on the backs with their feet up in the air, scratching their backs. That brought out a serious chuckle. At one point, I made a right turn and headed back across the lake for Georgia. I had to cross a single lane bridge. The police officers were kind enough to hold up the traffic for me, and I waved my thanks to the six or seven cars on the other side waiting to cross.
Around mile sixteen the cramps started...
This was a sure sign that I had wasted to much of my legs in the swim and the early part of the bike. I got up out of the saddle and stretched my legs, preventing a serious set of seizures. By carefully sending relaxing thoughts to my muscles, I managed to control the cramps and continue my ride. That Chi Running book sure came through for me there :-)
In looking back over the ride, there was a lot of little hills, and maybe three or four serious hills. The Garmin told me that I was approaching the end of the bike route. The road curved ahead and gently rose into the sky. As I rounded the corner, I prayed to see the entrance to the park. Instead, I got the hill from hell. There really is no feeling quite like wishing to see the end of the race, and instead seeing a big ole stinking steep hill. I coulda cried. LOL. Well, not really... At that point, I did say screw it. There was no way I was going to bust my arse going up that hill. I ratcheted down into my lowest gear and ground my way up the hill, never once stopping, but never really reaching a good pace either. Once I crested the top of the hill, it was a relatively flat couple of miles through the town of Hiawassee back to the entrance of the park.
As I made the right hand turn, low and behold striped tri-shorts girl came riding up from the other direction. She had missed her turn and added a little yardage to her bike route. We road into the park together. Some dude came riding up and passed on my left and then slowed. It was understandable, as there were runners on the course now and we had to be careful. I, however, didn't want to pass on his right and/or take out a runner while I was at it.
Eventually, we got things straightened out. Once around the camp grounds and we came to the dismount point at the end of transition. I dismounted in pretty good shape. I ran into transition, ditched my helmet, gloves, and shoes. I slipped on the twin wonders, tied'em up, switched my race belt around and was out of transition in flash. My T2 transition time was my fastest ever!! 1:26 seconds... With the sun and temperatures rising, the most grueling part of the race was about to begin... and... you guessed it... My food was still sitting under my towel. Doh!! I guess I'm a glutton for punishment.
My legs felt like lead as I exited the gate and onto the street. I wasn't really all that concerned. My legs always feel that way after I get off the bike. As I rounded the tennis courts, I came to the first hill, next to the music hall on the right. I decided not to push it early, and I walked it.
Once I was past the hill it was pretty much level and downhill to the entrance to the park. I was pretty much determined at this point to do my usual run four minutes and walk one minute routine. I felt strong enough to run a sub-9 minute pace here, although I was pretty sure that it wouldn't last for long.
As I came around the baseball fields, a young girl came ambling past me and I smiled. Y'all know how much I love getting blown away by young athletes. Turns out this "girl" was fourteen, on her second lap, and on her way to winning the woman's division of the race. She was representing The Sports Factory, our local coaching center extraordinaire here in Atlanta.
Any who, once I made it to the park entrance, I turned around and started heading back up hill towards the ticket gates. That was when I noticed striped tri shorts girl was in front of me. I laughed. It seems I was following her all over the race. I determined to pace myself off of her, if I could. Once past the gate, we made a right into the raised parking area. Pardon my french, but what a bitch! Or is that bastard :-) Each terrace was up hill, and we had to do three of them before coming back down. Outward, I was smiling and living large. Inside, I was groaning and fighting back the pain and exhaustion.
While trudging across the second terrace, I heard an ambulance come pulling into the park. After the race, Dee Dee told me what happened. A young girl (early twenties) had collapsed in the finishing chute. Her husband was yelling at her to get up and finish. A few of the spectators stepped in to help her up, but she refused. She got back on her feet, stumbled ten feet forward and collapsed before the finish line. Rising up on her hands and knees, she crawled across the finish line, only to collapse for the final time on the other side. Lots of folks stepped in to help her. Fortunately for her, and us, she revived quickly, and a ride in the ambulance proved to be unnecessary.
Once we hit the end of the third terrace, it was pretty much down hill until we got on the other side of the camp site. The run 4/walk 1 thing was working out pretty well for me. I kept striped tri shorts girl in site. I'm pretty sure that it was the little bitty hill by the transition area that finally sucked the rest of the wind out of my sails. I was not looking forward to the second loop, but I soldiered onward.
All right! Whose butt is this guy checking out anyways? Where's David?
For the second loop, I could only maintain a 9:30 pace while I was running. I knew that this was pushing me dangerously close to the ten minute pace I had set as my goal. I got passed by one tri-chica as I came down off the terraces for the second time. She told me to be strong, and I reciprocated with a looking good comment. I tried to pick up the pace to take advantage of the final downhill into the finish line.
As I rounded the back end of the campsite, I passed a very old guy who was obviously on his first lap. I gave him some encouraging words and slowed down to a crawl going back up the wind sucking little hill. As I crested, I broke to the left and into the chute, raised my arms and crossed the finish line in 02:27:31. That is almost exact, as far as I know, cause Dee Dee got it on digital media :-)
I spent the next five to ten minutes walking around the concession area trying not to cramp up. I drank another Accelerade, ate a few things, and listened to Dee Dee yell at me about not eating and drinking while I was on the bike. Thanks, girl :-)
About a quarter of the way through the awards ceremony, my old friend came trudging up the finish chute at about the three hour mark. He was 78 years old and had been doing triathlons for 8 years. Towards the end of the awards ceremony, his 70 year old wife came across the finish line. Talk about inspirational. All of the triathletes paused to celebrate his and her finish. They both were regulars at the Greater Smokey Mountain Tri Club and were used to the awards ceremony starting without them. It was really cool, because I don't think anyone else got that kind of applause when they crossed the line.
Dee Dee had already packed the car before the ceremony. Afterwards, there was nothing left to do but rack the bike and go home. As I drove out of the parking lot, I left a lot of mixed emotions behind me (and carried some home). I will share those things with you in the final chapter of this blog post.
There was nothing left now, but the heavy lidded drive home and dealing with the "self assessment" as we like to say in the world of referees. The nice thing about leaving around noon-ish was that the sun was up and the skies were clear. The scenery on the return route was everything I had hoped for, and I was not disappointed.
Dee Dee fiddled with the controls on the radio so we could listen to some music. Did anyone out there know that there was such a thing as Mountain Country? LOL. Uhhh... yea! I made a quick lefty into the parking lot of a Wendy's in some small town. Evidently it was too small to remember its name. I was starving at that point, fully realizing I needed to replenish my lowered stocks of saturated fats. We didn't stop for long. The boys were at home by themselves, and I didn't want to get too sleepy on the road.If you ask ten different triathletes what was their "biggest" race and why, you are going to get ten different answers. For some, it will be the number of competitors. For others, it will be the distance or maybe a PR. For me, and in this race is particular, it will always be the sheer number of lessons that I learned.
A. Going out of the gate hell bent for leather will not work all (most of) the time.
B. Not having a nutrition strategy is downright stupid.
C. Not all swims are created equal. Start out slowly and ramp up (Oly and above)
D. Have a pace plan in place for the bike too.
E. Save a lil sumthin for the run.
F. Drink more on the bike.
G. Longer distances is all about equal level of effort in each discipline for the entire race!!
H. One week is not enough time to taper for an Oly.
and tons of little ones like how not to cramp.
Did I have fun at this race? You betcha! Will I do it again? I hope so. Only the future knows. It certainly opened my eyes to what it takes to "go long". I am very happy that I did not sign up for a half iron distance. As a matter of fact, I am even now revamping my race plans for next year. Instead of trying for Iron, I may make a half Iron distance my A race and then go for Ironman in 09. I'm also revamping my expectations for my A race in August. I want to complete the entire swim without stopping, breast stroking, side stroking or back stroking. Screw the time. I want to come off the bike feeling strong. I want to maintain a good pace over the six miles, and maybe come in under an hour.
The official times came out today. Once again, they didn't record T1 and T2 times, so I had to pull them from the bike and run times. It makes a difference! They said that the run was 4 miles. GMaps says it was 4.2. That 0.2 miles means a 9:45 pace for me rather than a 10+ pace for me, and thats important!! OK? Here are the official times:
1290 meter swim: 27:55
T1: 3:18
23.5 mile bike: 01:15:47 (~18.5 mph avg)
T2: 1:26
4.2 mile run: 41:05
As Dee Dee and I made the long journey home, a particular song caught my attention. I don't listen to country music, so I had to look it up on the internet. Here are the lyrics I found particularly appealing:
We need a little more love
To get us through the night
Just a little more love
And we'll be all right
We need a little more love
To get us through the night
Just a little more love
And we'll be all right
Gonna be all right
-- Vince Gill, "Just a Little More Love"
Not only does Dee Dee always need a little more love ( and I'm there to give it to her! ), but this sport of Triathlon needs a little more love, and that's what I intend to do. Love this sport a little more every day as I count down the final 18 to West Point.
Bring it...
For the original articles and comments by some pretty cool people, follow these links...
Prologue
The Swim
The Bike
The Run
Epilogue
