I am struggling. It’s all I can say. I am struggling to get back into any kind of
a routine here in Portland. Year two of
med school is officially underway but I can’t focus for anything. All I’ve been doing is eating, sleeping and
day-dreaming. I keep reliving the
innumerable memories from this past weekend.
I have a lot I want to record here.
It was a wonderful experience.
Suppose I’ll start with a race report.
Prologue
This was a special event from the very
beginning, from the day I sat with friends Nate Dogg and Maura Olcese in class
and we decided to go for a full-distance event at the end of the summer. It was something I’d been considering, but
the companionship of doing it with some good friends was the impetus I needed
to pull the trigger. And it set the tone
for the entire journey. We were able to
discuss our training, share the highs and lows, anticipation and build-up, anxiety
and excitement, and ultimately make the trip together. In my opinion, this is when triathlons are at
their best: good friends, a good challenge, and good times.
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| Maura, Nate and I at Yellow Lake, doing a little recon work |
Next significant point: some drama in
Penticton last year resulted in a breath of fresh air, as a large corporation
(which shall not be named but whose initials are WTC) lost control of one of
their crown jewels to Challenge Family.
I had heard fantastic rumors of the Challenge race experience and I was
eager to participate in what was purportedly an athlete-focused,
family-friendly, fitness-fueled, week-long extravaganza of music/food/wine
tours/swimming/underpants runs/street dance
parties/hospitality/biking/community support/volunteerism/running. So the infamous Penticton course… site of
Ironman Canada for the past 30 years… the third oldest full-distance event on
the planet… with all of its history, and scenery, and crowds… was going to be
under their direction? SIGN ME UP!
(And before you all start feeling bad
for WTC, don’t worry, they made out just fine.
They started a whole new race right down the road in Whistler. They named it Ironman Canada and designed a
shiny new course. They scheduled it on
the exact same day as Challenge Pen.
They offered twice the normal allotment of Kona slots to attract age-groupers. And they paid last year’s Penticton winner
big bucks to show up for their race.
They’re a real class act, those guys.
But I digress…)
From my first email, I quickly realized
Challenge was a horse of a different color. My experience with them became more and more familial (which is actually the best
word for it) with every interaction. It
wasn’t long before I had a comp’ed entry, a homestay in the works, and the
promise of a local IPA when I arrived.
It was an indescribable pleasure to work and communicate with Kelly,
Barb, and company. I could tell they
really wanted the event to be a success, and I wanted to help out any way I
could. So all summer I looked forward to
meeting the folks up in Penticton, who were working hard to make me feel
welcome and appreciated.
Concluding thought, before I actually
jump in to the race report. Call me an
idealist, but there is a marked difference between a family-run business and a
corporation owned by a global private equity investment firm. I’m not afraid to go on the record here: if
by some terrible stroke of fate I am only permitted to race twice a year for
the rest of my life, I will proudly and happily show up to Wildflower in early
May and Challenge Pen in late August for the rest of my career. Ok, enough politicking.
Pre-Race
We made the drive up from Portland –
Nate, Maura, Elena and I – on Wednesday afternoon, which afforded plenty of
time to really nail the pre-race routine.
We met Albert and Antonia Mahon, who graciously welcomed us to their
fabulous home in the foothills overlooking the city. We ate well, slept
even better, and went through all the motions to be comfortable and ready for
race day. I will say, three full days of
anticipation is perhaps more than I need.
By the end I was really chomping at the bit to get out there and
compete.
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| Couple nights before the race, from the Mahon residence; Penticton is just crazy beautiful |
Swim
Race morning dawned with cloudy skies
and a brisk wind. I was relieved to hear
that the water temp was right at 22°C, which
would allow us to wear wetsuits during the choppy swim. The field was relatively small, but not
without some big names. In fact, Chris
McCormack, many times a world champion and perhaps the biggest name in the
sport, had come out to play. Jamie Whyte
(the guy I chased for the entire run at Vineman but who kicked my ass at
Calgary), Scott Defilippis (who I dueled up Nasty Grade at Wildflower),
veteran Anthony Toth, my coach Chris Bagg, and local favorite Jeff Symonds
(rhymes with “diamonds”) rounded out the list of top contenders.
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| First wave of age-groupers making their way out into the water |
It was a typical beach start followed by some dolphin diving. Wasn’t long before I was in a three-man pack moving
at a comfortable pace. The swim,
actually, was pretty uneventful. Being a
newbie at the distance, I erred on the side of comfort and settled into a nice
rhythm. I felt smooth and relaxed the
whole time, and it went by pretty quickly.
My time of 1:01:44 was a little slower than I’d hoped (which became a
theme for the day), but turns out the buoys were a little wonky – a product of
the intense winds the night before – so we all swam a little extra. By some accounts it was a 4.2k swim, which is
made more believable by Macca and Jeff’s lead swim time of a mid-55. I was thrilled to be out of the water only 6’
down on the lead (a pretty customary deficit for me over half the distance!)
and half that to the main chasers, which included Bagg, Toth, and Whyte.
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| Some of the field, just before the gun; they actually combined the men and women, which increased my odds of finding feet, but not necessarily my success in doing so. |
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| Chris "Macca" McCormack followed closely by Jeff Symonds |
Positives: well strategized and paced;
remained calm and relaxed
Negatives: open-water sighting (as
always); I think I was reasonably close to making that 59’ group but missed out
in the first few hundred meters!
Bike
The bike was without a doubt the part of
the race I was most anxious about. Usually,
at the end of 56 miles I’m good and ready to get out of the saddle. I hoped the slightly decreased effort (race
plan was to average 145 bpm vs. the 155 I usually hold for a half-distance event)
would buy me another 56.
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| Bikes all set up in T2 |
All anxiety quickly disappeared though,
as I made my way out on to the one-loop bike course around 7:15 am. The wind had quieted, the skies had begun to
clear, and the morning glow over the eastern mountains welcomed us down the
valley. I settled into a comfortable,
slightly cautious pace. Which resulted
in my being passed by two dudes in pretty short order. I just sat there with my HR at 140, feeling
like such a softman as I watched them ride away from me. It took every shred of restraint I could
muster not to chase after them. But I
trusted my coach and his experience at this distance, and this race in
particular. Hopefully I’d see them again
down the road. 112 miles is a long ways.
This famous bike course is nicely
divisible into three distinct sections.
The first of these – about 40 miles of cruising down the valley to
Osoyoos (pronounced “soy sauce”) – rides like a dream. It is downwind, slightly downhill, and
absolutely breathtaking. But when you
come into town you make a hard right and are immediately riding up Richter
Pass, into a headwind. After the descent
you make your way over a series of seven rollers before hitting the out and
back section, where the turn-around at mile 75 marks the end of this second
stage, the hardest of the three. The
third and final segment feels just as hard, however, due to the onset of fatigue. To borrow a word from Coach Chris, if you
haven’t nailed your pacing and nutrition, the second major climb of the day up
to Yellow Lake is interminable. From the summit it’s a bomber 15 miles or so
downhill back to T2.
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| It is impossible to find a map of the Challenge bike course in jpg format. Turns out it is exactly the as the old IM Canada course, so just use your imagination. |
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| The bike was a fair test, fo sho! |
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| Probably the coolest photo every taken; Jeff Symonds asserting his will on the gorgeous bike course Photo props to Rich Lam |
This part of the ride was as scenic as
the last. It was easy to loose focus, mesmerized by the
flowing green valley nestled between towering ridgelines under what had become
a radiant blue sky. I saw Elena and Amy
VT for the first time, and laughed hysterically when they held up a sign some
of my classmates had painted. All it
said was “ANDREW DON’T BE A PUSSY!” I
thought that was pretty great, and recalled how many people were following
along back in Portland and at home in Boise.
When I passed the 100k sign I thought of roommate Bryan Mullaney’s
ultramarathon, only one week prior. I
was just starting to feel a little dullness in the legs, and thought to myself,
“How could anyone ever run that entire distance?” The realization made what I was doing seem
pretty manageable.
The out-and-back presented an
opportunity to see how the race was unfolding.
About 3.5 miles from the turn-around I saw Macca and Jamie Whyte blow by
in the opposite direction, and figured that was the front of the race. 7 miles to the front, maybe 16-19 minutes
back, not too shabby. Not much longer I
saw Coach Chris, riding strongly in 5th position about 2.5 miles
from the checkpoint. When I made the
turn myself I figured I was in 11th position. With a top-ten finish as my goal, I braced
for a hard couple of hours to T2. What I
didn’t know was that local man Jeff Symonds was actually leading the race, so
far ahead of Macca and Jamie that I had missed him completely on the out and
back!
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| Macca at the turn-around, mile 75 |
Fortunately for me, the climb to Yellow
Lake was not interminable, but rather quite smooth and methodical. I had been nailing my nutrition, hydration
and pacing, which paid off on the long climb.
But contrary to what I had expected, the long descent into town was
probably my least favorite part of the race.
I had prepared mentally for a pleasure cruise into T2. What I actually got was another solid 10
miles of actual work. The descent itself
included quite a few false flats and long, straight stretches that required considerable
hammering. Then when you finally
bottomed out along the banks of Skaha Lake you still had about 5 miles of
riding across town. I was a little
pissed. But the crowds down Main Street
welcomed me back, and my mood was instantly lifted as I readied myself for my
first marathon.
In the end I hit transition after
posting a 5:13:45 bike. Not bad for my
first attempt at this distance. But not
that great either.
Positives: pacing, nutrition and
hydration; enjoyed every moment
Negatives: just freaking slow! This is where I lost the most time. And I think it comes down to two things –
bike fitness, and equipment. The former
will take time and many more seasons to improve. As for the latter, I’m thinking I should make
an actual tri-bike a real priority for next season. I’m not trying to make excuses here, but
aerodynamic disadvantages are significantly amplified over a course that is 112
miles long. Trying to compete at the pro
level on a road bike is absolutely absurd, when you stand back and look at it.
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| Jeff on the final stretch into town, along Skaha Lake; he looks like a bullet |
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| And here's me. It doesn't take a degree in aeronautical engineering to figure this one out. |
Run
I hit the run course feeling awesome. I ate a banana coming out of T2 and ended up having to run with the peel for a solid mile or more, which I thought was pretty
funny. I called to Elena as I went by,
telling her I was going to go run a marathon, which I ALSO thought was pretty
funny. Finally I settled into a rhythm,
and let the HR come down to where I wanted it (mid 140s).
The first half of the run went really
well. I felt great, was cruising at 6:45
pace, keeping food and fluids down, and all at the comfortable aerobic HR of
~150. Then around mile 10 I caught my
first sight of the leader: Jeff Symonds was absolutely crushing the run, and
the field. He blitzed by in the opposite
direction with no one else in sight. He
was followed nearly 15 minutes later by Scott Defilippis, who was also running
like a champion. His race-best 2:46
marathon catapulted him into second position.
When he is on that guy can run.
Next came Jamie Whyte, running well but with Macca nowhere near
him. Coach Chris looked strong in fifth
position and had a few others trailing behind.
As he passed he told me to keep it steady. Before I knew it I was at the turn around…
and in 9th position?! I
couldn’t believe it! I had passed one
guy on the run, but apparently two more had abandoned, including Macca. I was in the money! I was elated!
The run course stays relatively flat for
the first ten or so miles, then gets pretty hilly for the next three into the
turn around in at Okanagan Falls. Then
you come back the same way, so everything is just reversed: hilly for the first
three, flat for ten. On my return
journey, I made it through the hilly section in pretty good form, staying on
pace and letting my HR creep up to ~160.
I carried some momentum into the flats and passed the cramping Dan
McIntosh for 8th position.
But around mile 18 I could feel the wheels coming off. Despite my best efforts to eat, I could not
keep the HR up, and watched in desperation as it trickled off to 145, then
140. With 8 miles to go I had officially
climbed aboard the struggle bus. I told
myself to hold on to 7:30 pace, and this thing would be over in an hour. But then I sadly thought, “An hour?! Really?
Man… this distance is rough.”
Usually, over the half-iron distance, when I feel that bad I’m only a few miles
from the finish. I can get away with 20
minutes of pain and will myself to the line.
But I was way too far away for that.
I had to keep it together.
Then I saw my friend. Nate Dogg saved my race. I had been hoping to spot he and Maura all
day. He went by me looking liking a
champion, breaking his usual stoicism to ask with some incredulity, “Are you in
8th?!” Hell yes, I was in 8th. A spike in morale kept me from walking. Less than 20 minutes later the same thing
happened when I saw Maura. She was
upbeat and looked like a million bucks. We
exchanged encouragement and huge smiles, and I decided that I wasn’t going to
walk until I hit the line. This was my
first marathon. By God, I wasn’t going
to walk any part of it.
Eight miles to go… don’t think about
it. Seven miles to go… eat
something. Six miles to go… eat
something else. Five miles to go… where
the hell is town? Four miles to go…
thank God, solid crowds from here on in.
Three miles to go… just get me to Main Street! Two miles to go… HUGE CRAMP!
I immediately came to a standstill. I was pretty bummed. I had run up every single hill, and through
every single aid station, and now a cramp was going to bring me to a halt?! I looked down the long straight away through
town and tried to hold off the onslaught of despairing thoughts. The two mile strip of road - lined by spectators and framed by the distant lake - stared right back at me. It wasn't just going to lie down. I'd need to earn it. I quickly choked down my last gel
and a salt chew, and took a few tentative steps. Then I was running again. In the end, who cares if I didn’t run the whole thing? I’ll just have to try this again.
Less than two miles… these crowds are
awesome! A mile and a half… only ten
more minutes! One mile to go… there is
Elena! I’m so close. I can taste this! Half a mile… these Canadians are in an
uproar! With a little human power, what can't you do? Final stretch along the waterfront… the soft red carpet, the electric finisher’s
chute, the quaking grandstands, the dazzling sunlight, the overpowering colors,
the cool breeze off the lake, the watchful sky, the quieting tape… that seemed to understand what you'd done and reassured you that it was indeed a worthy effort.
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| A 3:09 marathon put me at the line in 9:28, good enough for 8th place and a broad, toothy smile |
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| Here's your winner! I felt just as pumped up when I crossed the line. |
Negatives: nutrition…? All I know is the wheels definitely came off,
and I was on the struggle bus big time.
When you cannot keep your HR up that is a sure sign there isn’t enough
in the tank. And as it falls, so follows
your pace. Gonna have to come up with a
new nutrition plan for the last 2 hours of this race.
Thank
Yous
Where to even start here… First thank you has to go to Challenge
Family, who stepped into a difficult situation and produced a world class
event. At the risk of sounding like a
broken record, this was an unbelievable experience.
The pre-race correspondence, the social media, the pro meeting, the
homestay, the athlete’s dinner, the race itself… And to top it all off, when I crossed the
line, the CEO of Challenge himself, Mr. Felix Walchshofer, stepped out of the
crowd to shake my hand and offer his congratulations. Over the weekend I was fortunate to have
several interactions with this warm, genuine man, who clearly gets what
triathlon is all about. And it shows so
prominently in the community he, his mom and his mother have created. So thank you Kelly, Barb, Felix and
company. I certainly am a fan.
Next thank you goes out to Antonia and
Albert Mahon. You guys were such
gracious hosts and made us feel most welcome.
It was fabulous to get to know you and share some meals and moments with
you on your beautiful porch. We will certainly
be in touch. See you next August, if not
before.
A special thanks to friends Nate and Maura, for making this thing happen. And to Elena for being so supportive, both during the race but also during the months of preparation. The best things in life truly are shared. Hope to repay you all in the years ahead.
A special thanks to friends Nate and Maura, for making this thing happen. And to Elena for being so supportive, both during the race but also during the months of preparation. The best things in life truly are shared. Hope to repay you all in the years ahead.
And of course, huge thanks to Coach
Chris for everything you did in the build up to this race, which really took a
season of work. When we identified this
event as a candidate for a long-course debut, I knew you would be an invaluable
asset. You do it all man, the workouts,
the race plans, the nutrition, the mental coaching… couldn’t have done it
without you. I’d say I owe you way more
than 20%!
And last but not least, thanks always to
all you twitter and blog followers, friends and family who kept me in your
thoughts and prayers. Was a great, fun,
looooong day. I can hardly describe what
a great experience I had, how deeply I was moved by the community of Penticton,
how proud I am to have joined the Challenge Family, and how blessed I feel to
have participated this past weekend. I
will certainly be going back.
What
Next?
Whew, the longest race report yet. At last, you’ve made it to the end. Thanks for reading. Some of you savvy readers may have noticed a
discrepancy here on the blog. I seem to
have skipped a race. Confession: I did
not, in fact, race the Lake Stevens half back in July, as originally
planned. I instead jumped into the
Calgary race the following weekend, which I am yet to account for here. I’ve decided to save that report for another
day. It was a great weekend as well, but
in unexpected ways which require a bit more processing and introspection on my
part. So we’ll revisit that frontier at
a later time.
70.3 Austin in a couple months, time for
a little break, and to get back in to some kind of rhythm at school. Stay tuned, the show will continue!
