This past weekend I raced and won my 3rd consecutive Gulf Coast Triathlon in Panama City, Florida. At this stage of my racing career I don’t take any of these wins for granted but this one I am particularly proud of. Not because of the time (it wasn’t my fastest) or the fact that it was number 3, but more because of the way I had to go about winning; a one on one battle on the run.
The days preceding the race had been hot, humid and very windy. The water had been very rough. At the pre race meeting they had discussed the contingency plans (duathlon) if the water was too rough, so the forecast was not promising. The past few years it had been rough leading up to the race only to have the water looking like glass on the morning of. This year I woke up at 4:00 and I could tell by the sound of the waves crashing that this would not be the scenario today. After the usual race morning routine (I hate race morning) and some good luck wishes to and from my HPR teammates, I made the short journey along the beach to the swim start. This was a non wetsuit swim for the pros, so there was none of the pre race wet suit fight that as one of the guys on the team joked should be the 4th event.
While in the swim corral I was looking around at the competition and noticed that one of the pre race favourites, former world champion Spencer Smith, was not there. He had been at the pre race meeting and his bike was racked next to mine so I fully expected to see him that morning. When I was getting into this sport Spencer was THE guy in triathlon, dominant in all three, but an absolute machine on the bike. He had since gone on to have a decent Ironman career before an early retirement that he was supposedly coming out of this spring. Since he was the guy I had expected to be chasing down on the bike it would surely change the dynamics of the race if he decided not to race.
At 6:20 (a very early start) we were sent off and it was a mad dash to get through the breakers and into the swells. I sat on a pair of feet out to the turn around and then took the lead as we rounded the turn. The way back was much better with the waves pushing us home, but unfortunately I had only brought goggles with a really dark tint so it made sighting difficult on this foggy morning. I did my best and rode a couple of waves to the beach where I exited with a couple other athletes. Running up the beach I thought we were the front of the race until I heard Brewer yell out; “2 minutes down”. I thought he was kidding but when I hit the transition area the announcer said the same thing. I asked who was up front as I exited, thinking that maybe Spencer had just jumped in behind us, but it was a name I did not recognize. I was now in the position I had expected to be in; the chaser.
I am not sure why, probably because it is so flat, but I seem to find my rhythm very quickly on this course. There is a 6 mile out and back to start the bike and this gave me a chance to see the athlete I was pursuing. I moved into second place straight away and started pushing as hard as I could to get to the front. It took about 15 miles of chasing a police motorcycle’s flashing light and the flashing lights on the lead vehicle, but as I got closer I noticed I had also put a sizeable gap on the athletes I had started the bike with. I was in my 53/11 pushing as hard as I could and when I finally caught the leader I went by quickly. I wanted to get away and get as big a lead as possible. I hit the 30 mile marker in just over an hour. 30 miles in an hour! OK, that could only mean one thing, tail wind. Things might be a bit tougher on the way back and I might be paying for this effort on the way home. When I hit the turn around I was out of fluids and was looking forward to another bottle of Gatorade. Unfortunately there was only one guy manning the station and I don’t think he had ever done it before because he didn’t want to let go of the bottle he had stuck out for me. That bottle ended up on the road and I was now without fluids for another 10 miles. It was now time for damage control. I was battling the headwind, starting to feel thirsty and taking stock of the lead I had. At the turn around it was up to 2 minutes and I recognized that two of the stronger bikers in the field (Zach Ruble and Dan Moss) were moving well. This is when I started looking for the positives in not having the fluids; my bike was lighter and more aero. The unfortunate reality is that I was getting dehydrated. With about 10 miles to go I started to cramp up in my glutes and the power that I had early in the ride was starting to fade. I was fighting the bike; standing to try and keep my rhythm but at the same time turning myself into a sail into the wind. I did manage to get another couple bottles of fluid at the last two aid stations and I made sure I finished them and took some salt pills.
I hit the transition in first and put on my shoes as quickly as possible. I wanted to get out and on the run before the second place athlete was in sight. I was just exiting T2 when I heard them announce the second place athlete, Zach Ruble, was coming in only 45 seconds down. I had lost 1:15 on the return trip. I now knew that I was in a race. I have done very little threshold running this spring since I only really started running pain free in March so I knew that the chances of me running away from a good runner like Zach were unlikely. I stayed relaxed and waited for him, thinking that he would want to bridge up to me right away, which he in fact did, catching me just before mile 2. As he approached I asked him if anyone had gone with him on the bike. He said no, that he had dropped them all so it was down to he and I. I am pretty sure he expected to pass and drop me after making up 45 seconds in just over 2 miles, but I wasn’t going to let him put a gap between us. Instead I ran just off his shoulder and tried to get a sense for how he was feeling. By the amount of water he was trying to get at each aid station I was getting the impression he was not enjoying the heat and humidity, which had increased steadily throughout the morning. The next 10 miles had us running as if we were attached by an invisible elastic band and we didn’t say another word for the rest of the race. We took turns hitting aid stations first. These 10 miles were extremely tough mentally and took a different kind of focus, than that which is needed either having a big lead or chasing. At times he would pick it up and I would have to respond and at times I would try to open a bit of gap, but none of these efforts caused any separation. With 5km to go I was starting to think about the finish. I have only been in one finishing sprint in a Half Ironman before and I came out on the losing end. I didn’t want to repeat that scenario. With just over 1 mile to go I had moved to the front and picked a spot up the road to run to, FAST! All of a sudden I stopped hearing his footsteps and his breathing. Athletes coming the other way were cheering for me and then there was a short break in their cheering before I heard them yell for him. 1 mile to go and I had a gap. All of a sudden I had a surge of energy and I was able to keep the pace up to the next point I had picked out. I still did not want to look back so I waited till I saw Brewer running the other way to ask him if I had a gap. When he yelled back 150 meters I figured I was safe. Someone once told me that in a race the key is to get the other guy thinking “second is good enough” and I think that is what happened here. I would be lying if there weren’t times during that run where I was thinking the same thing, but as the miles clicked off the more I wanted to win. Seeing my teammates coming the other way and seeing the crowds towards the finish made the final 400m go by very quickly. In the end I came across the line in 4:06, almost a minute up on Zach Ruble and 5 minutes up on last year’s second place finisher Dan Moss.
Although this was one of those high moments I talked about in an earlier post, I have enjoyed it and now I am looking forward to the rest of the hard work I have to put in over the next 6 weeks to get myself ready for Ironman Couer D’Alene. This preparation starts this weekend with a 3 day HPR camp in Couer D’Alene.
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