Addendum: Rev3 vs. Wildflower

Comparisons and Take-Aways (a.k.a. A Detailed Case Study/Nerdy Analysis)

I thought it might be useful – in looking for take-aways from the Rev3 race (below), as I usually do – to draw some comparisons to Wildflower.  Generally speaking, it is impossible to extrapolate meaningful conclusions by comparing two completely different races, on completely different courses, under completely different conditions, on completely different days.  But there were more than a couple striking similarities between the two races, so a side-by-side comparison is not completely without merit.  The strength of the field at Rev3, for example, was as steep or steeper than the field down in California.  Further, it had an equally notorious bike course, which in turn greatly impacted the run and the way the race played out.  Last, several of the top guys who finished on the podium at WF were also in the hunt here, providing a sort of measuring stick for my analysis (basically I’m just talking about Jesse Thomas and Jordan Rapp).  But most importantly, two months and four races passed between my first pro outing at WF (it was really more of an amateur hour) and Rev3, my most recent attempt.  It’s good to look for signs of progress when you can.  It’s all just baby steps, after all.

I’ll warn you now: the rest of this post is going to be a bunch of boring analysis, number-fudging and mental massage.  I suspect many of you won’t be into it.  But it is a helpful exercise for me, so just let me have it.  And since I was always going to do the comparison anyway, I figured I might as well share these thoughts with those of you who are interested in how an up-and-coming pro analyzes his results/rationalizes being happy about 15^th place/makes himself feel better/is able to sleep at night.

The Swim

First, the qualitative comparison.  When I compare this swim to Wildflower, I’m way, way better across the board.  Water awareness, finding the right group to draft, knowing when to go it alone, open-water sighting, it’s all good.  Well, not really good, but certainly better than it was.  Strategy and experience are a HUGE part of triathlon swimming success.  Nice to see I’ve improved in this area.

Quantitatively, my swim speed has similarly improved.  I base that off of times in the pool in training, but also a comparison to Jesse and Jordan, who swim about the same.  They exited the water together to begin their epic showdown at WF (and by that I mean within several seconds of one another), where they ultimately finished 1-2, respectively.  Here at Rev3 they did the same thing.  But on my end, while I came out of the water nearly 3.5 minutes down to them at WF, I was just a hair over 2 minutes in our most recent encounter, and that on a longer swim overall.  All I have to say to that is booyah!

The Bike

The qualitative look at the bike is also hugely encouraging.  At WF I basically made every mistake in the book, but here I made relatively few.  Better pacing.  Got the calories in easier.  No rubbing brake pads.  No broken bottle holders.  I was able to ride to my fitness level, instead of being hampered by rookie mishaps.

This is definitely apples to oranges, but it is safe to say both the WF and Rev3 courses are very challenging.  Some of the toughest in the sport, actually.  Jesse and Jordan had some of the top bike times at each venue, and they were quite comparable to one another.  Both clocked around a 2:17:30 down in Cali.  Up here they both arrived at T2 after 2:16:45 on the bike, meaning they were about 45 seconds faster between the two races.  My own efforts were 2:33:38 at WF and 2:29:50 at Rev3, showing nearly a four minute improvement.  All this to say I surrendered three minutes less to The Aviator and The Rappstar at Rev3.  After this unashamedly reckless quantitative comparison, I am left with little more to say than Booyah!

The Run

The run is influenced by many factors, but foremost among them is bike effort and pacing.  So a qualitative improvement in this final discipline, I think, also substantiates the inferences I made in my bike analysis.  This all because – when I finally started running at Rev3 – I felt way, way better than I did down in California.  Kept a more even pace.  Caught more dudes.  Better nutrition plan.  All signs of improved fitness, tactics, and race experience.  So put that in your little pipe and smoke it.

Looking at the running splits is less meaningful.  The WF run course is a hilly biatch, and it is short of the full 13.1 miles.  In contrast, the Rev3 course is about as flat as it gets.  Plus, race dynamics have a huge effect on run times, with lots of guys doing just enough to maintain their position, or shutting things down early because they know they aren’t going to win.  Consequently, a quantitative comparison to other competitors, as I have done with the swim and bike, is completely unreliable.  The one thing I can say is that I ran significantly faster at Rev3 than I did at WF, and I felt better doing it.  This despite an intense cramp that cost me at least two minutes.  So I think it’s safe to assume my running has improved.  But by how much, I really have no idea.

Transitions

I need to work on them.  I keep donating time to the top guys in both T1 and T2.  Especially in T1.  It’s bad.

Overall

The big picture is best of all.  Many of the top pros (Thomas, Rapp, Matthews, et. al.) took longer to get around this track than they did down in California.  Jesse was two minutes slower here at Rev3 than he was in his winning performance at WF.  And this despite a similarly strong performance on a good day (that straight from the horse’s mouth).  I was actually four minutes FASTER.  And in an arguably tougher field, I moved up from 24^th position at WF to 15^th at Rev3.  For all this, I give a final and resounding BOOYAH!

Of course, this has been a highly uncontrolled case study, with literally hundreds of external variables.  The scientist in me is completely ashamed.  But I think it’s safe to say things have been coming along.  My fitness has certainly improved.  And more importantly, my tactics and familiarity with the pro race format have come a long way.  I’ve learned so much in two short months, and looking back on it now is quite rewarding.  Hopefully things continue to trend in this direction over the coming years.

Thanks for tolerating my nerdy analysis.  Big news on the horizon, concerning future plans.  Enjoy the rest of July everyone!

Race Report - Rev3 Portland

Rev3 Portland is over and I’m a happy guy!  This last Sunday was, in my mind, my best race of the season.  Despite, by all accounts, still being beaten quite handily by 14 extraordinarily fast dudes.  I put together a great, focused effort – assimilating lessons learned throughout the season – and left it all out on the race course.  And frankly, it just doesn’t get much better than that.  Plus, I didn’t freeze to death, which was nice.

You may ask, why put a pic
of Ahhhnold in here?
I ask in return, who not?

I also feel quite relieved, because as I described beforehand, I placed a bit more pressure on myself leading into this race by setting some lofty progress goals.  And when the going got tough, I had the courage to stay committed to them.  I didn’t buckle under the weight of my own expectations, like a little mamby-pamby-girly-man (shown).  It’s a very gratifying feeling.  I'll quote Aristotle here, who said, “Indeed, triathlons in truth are more a test of mental fortitude than physical stamina.  The mind wilts much sooner than the body.  It is from the mental victory, therefore, whencecomes a sweetness too sweet for words.”  And before walking away from reporters he added, "Plus, when you’re done you get to drink beer.”  Or maybe that was Homer.  Hell, it might have even been me who said that one time.  In any case, whoever said it was right on, as reaffirmed by my own experience this past week.

But I digress.  On to the race report…

Pre-Race

First, I have to mention this, because it is so cool.  When I showed up at Blue Lake Park and arrived in transition, the first thing I noticed was a beautiful, smiling face with the chiseled features of a classic Greek statue.  I loved that, and you better believe I took that poster home with me.  Just one of the many things these Rev3 guys do that make them totally awesome in my book.

I guess I should rack my bike here...?

When I finally I stopped admiring my own likeness and started taping gels to my top tube, a second awesome thing happened.  Jesse Thomas came over with an unexpected gift: my very own speedsuit!  When wetsuits aren’t allowed because of water temp, all the pros wear these magic rubber suits that significantly decrease your hydrodynamic drag coefficient and still provide a little bit of buoyancy.  Basically, they’re awesome, but like all things in this sport, they cost money, and I ain’t got one.  Jesse lent me one for the race, as long as I agreed not to pass him during the swim (he didn’t need to worry about that).  And yes, this is the Jesse Thomas who is now the two-time defending Wildflower champ, fellow Oregon-based pro, and super cool dude.  He’s kind of a big deal.  But don’t tell him I said that.

Minutes before the swim start we were all down on the beach.  I enjoyed briefly catching up with Chris Ganter and Kevin Everett, both of them Boise pros and past training partners.  The weather was perfect, the mood was excited, the field (about 35 dudes) was pumped up.  I felt great: well-rested, tapered, and hairless.  I was ready to get to work.

Check out my suit!  Hummmm baby!

Swim

The gun went off and I charged into the water with authority.  My swim starts are now vastly improved from my first effort at Wildflower two months ago, where I basically tip-toed in and tried to avoid getting wet.  I nailed two dolphin dives and sprinted to the first buoy, where a sharp turn had us swimming right into the sun.  And if you have never done that before, take my word for it, you can’t see a fricking thing.  I did however, find the feet of two dudes who seemed to be moving at my speed, so I decided to hitch my proverbial wagon.  As we approached the first turn around I saw the lead pack swimming the other way.  After the quick mental manipulation of some basic differential equations, taking into account air temp, trajectory, water density, angle of incidence, and the gravitational constant, I reckoned I was about 2 minutes down at the halfway point, which was about right.

Theme music:
Your stare was holdin! Ripped jeans, skin was showin! Hot nights, wind was blowin!

Working our way back up the lake, I decided I had hitched my wagon to a fatiguing horse, and as the dude’s pace dropped I surged around him.  I wanted to keep myself honest on the swim, one of those pre-race goals I mentioned.  As I turned the final corner and headed for the swim exit, I noticed the lead women’s pack bearing down on me about 30 seconds back (they started three minutes behind us, some of those chics can really swim!)  Swimming with a renewed sense of panic, I finally came out of the water around 31:45, which is real slow but turns out the course was quite long.  As I entered T1 a friend gave me some splits: 5 minutes down on the lead pack of super swimmers, 2-3 down on the main chase pack.  That’s the pack I’d like to be able to hang with next year.  But it will take roughly 50,000 hours in the pool to be able to do it.

Not having any fun.

Me and the Stallion embark.
And still racing in my cute onesy.

Bike

I made it through transition without a glitch, mounted the Stallion and promptly missed the first turn.  I had to do a tight 180, losing about 15 seconds in the process, and landing myself squarely at the front of the women’s race, where Meredith Kessler and Lauren Goss were fighting for the bike lead.  I ended up riding near them for the first few miles, and it was more than a little embarrassing to be the dude mixed in at the front of the women’s race.  Although Meredith is having one of the best seasons in the women’s sport, with four wins to her credit already, including IM CdA and St. George.  So that provides some consolation.  And while it was pretty cool to have a front row seat to her race, I am proud to say I eventually got the legs going and pulled away just as the course started to get touchy.

Now I had ridden this route twice in training, and thank God for that, because it is a bear.  By some reliable accounts (Jordan Rapp, to name one), it may be even tougher than Wildflower.  I knew what to expect, which I think played to my advantage, as I approached the course with respect, but not fear.  The first hill is the hardest, about 5 miles long, and it hits hard at the front end, with two switchbacks and pitches up to 12%.  I found a happy place and pretended I was quite comfortable.  Then I started to imagine there were thousands of screaming fans lining the roadside, like at the Tour de France.  Then I told myself there would be podium girls handing out bottles of champagne at the top.  I can see now that my imagination got a little carried away, and I was bitterly disappointed when the only thing at the top of the climb was dude wearing overalls and drinking coffee.

Super challenging but super beautiful bike course here in Portland.
I don't know who that guy is.

Not a lot happened for the next hour or so.  I felt good.  I rode hard.  Call Me Maybe was in my head because it had been playing back at the expo area, and also just because I love it.  But then, on the course’s longest, most technical descent, I caught up to a truck pulling a huge camping trailer.  He was going just slow enough to really piss me off.  The rules dictate that you have to hang 15 meters back of any moving vehicle, and it’s your responsibility to communicate to the driver to get the hell out of the way.  So I was out of my aerobars, gesturing wildly.  And that’s when I got passed by the lead woman again.

Out of nowhere Angela Naeth had caught me.  She is perhaps the only women in the world having a better season than Meredith Kessler, also with four high profile wins.  At this point she had caught Meredith and was leading the women’s race.  Fortunately we soon hit another STEEP hill, so the truck sped off, leaving Angela and I to duke it out.  Her reputation on the bike is known far and wide, and it was awesome to witness.  We rode neck and neck for about 5 miles, trading positions a couple times.  Finally, on the last technical part of the course I was able to shake her, and as we hit the flats back down by the Sandy River I was able to power away.  Score: Andrew 2, Ladies 0.  Too bad I wasn’t racing in the women’s field, I would actually have been quite competitive.

The course has a nice set up, because after all the tough climbing and descending it ends with an 11 mile out-and-back section to hit the necessary 56 miles.  It’s pancake flat, affording an opportunity to spin the legs out and also see the other competitors.  The front of the race looked tight as it zoomed by going the other way, with lots of big names right in the mix: Cunningham, Thomas, Matthews, Rapp, Everett, Bozzone, Russell, Zyemtsev.

I had some great support out again for this race, including roommate/training partner/ultrarunner
Bmullane, who snapped this cool picture at the last aid station around mile 45.  I tried to get him wet.

Some more mental math and I realized I had surrendered about 10 more minutes on the bike, putting me 15 minutes off the lead.  This I can definitely live with, especially on a course that demanding.  I rode hard, but within myself, and felt like I built throughout.  A power meter would certainly help by taking out the guesswork, but as far as I know I put in a well-paced bike leg.  And who knows how much an actual tri bike would help, rather than just a tri-afied aero road bike.  Overall I am quite happy.  I rode with confidence, my second pre-race goal, and I hit the run with legs feeling pretty fresh.

Run

As I cruised through T2, I heard Amy Van Tassel (another Portland-based athlete and friend who was helping put the event on) yelling that I wasn’t far down on the next guy, so I jetted out onto the run course.  The first mile always feels the worst, but as my body made the shift over to running mode, I found myself feeling pretty good.  I was running fast – under my goal pace – so I eased up a bit in the interest of pace preservation.  By mile 2 I had passed the aforementioned dude and was in a good rhythm.

On the first out and back.  Thomas passing Bozzone
to take second position.  That dude can run like a gazelle.

The run course was as flat and boring as the bike course was hilly and stimulating.  It did a ~4 mile out-and-back, passing near transition before heading out for another ~8 mile out-and-back in the other direction.  The advantage of this layout is another couple chances to watch the race develop.  It looked like the run was sorting things out, with Cunningham and Thomas stepping to the front for what promised to be a hard-fought battle, and the others in the top-ten slipping backwards.

I knocked out the first 4 miles in 23 minutes, right on track and feeling good, but then an unprecedented thing happened: over the course of about 10 strides, my left leg betrayed me.  My medial quad seized up so violently it brought me stumbling to a slow walk.  I would have been better off without it, hopping along on one foot.  I hobbled along for about a minute with little improvement.  I was crushed.  I had put in such an honest effort to this point, I felt my race slipping away.  I truly thought it was all over.  I prepared to turn in my chip and walk it in.

But then I saw an aid station not even a quarter mile up the road.  Since walking wasn’t helping at all, I eased into a straight-legged gallop.  By the time I got to the station the leg was feeling a little bit better.  I downed some Gatorade, stepping gingerly, and within a half mile I was back to full strength!  Hell yeah!  I felt like I had been given a second chance.  And my heart rate had recovered some from the walking.  As I slowly began to trust my left quad again, I let the pace build until I was right back where I wanted to be.

There is an easy explanation for the cramp: not enough electrolytes.  It was hot out by this point, nearly 90-degrees.  I had been grabbing ice and dumping it down the front of my cute onesy to stay cool, but I hadn’t been taking in enough ions.  I’ve never struggled with cramps before, but they sure suck.  Lesson learned.

I passed a few more dudes before the second turn-around around mile 8.5, slapping them both on the behind as I went by (that’s how men say hello).  Then I pointed it for home and settled in for the most painful part of any half: the last 5 miles.  The tank was running dry, I could feel it, but I was prepared to go to the well (my third and final progress goal).  Cola at miles 9 and 10.  A gel at mile 11.  And once you hit mile 12 it’s basically all over.  You can do pretty much anything for 6 minutes.  I finished up with a 1:20 run, which without that cramp would have been right on 6:00 min pace.  It’s no 1:15, but after a bike that tough I can live with it.

It might not look like it, but this is one of my favorite feelings.

At the end of the day I was a happy dude.  As always, racing is a fricking riot, and I had a ball out there competing with the best in the business.  Ended up running into 15^th place, and when I look at the names of the guys who bested me I don’t have even a twinge of embarrassment.  On the contrary, I’m actually quite proud to see my name where it is on the leaderboard.  The top half of a field that stacked is not too shabby.  Portland was out in full splendor too.  The weather and the course couldn’t have been more beautiful, and memories of that glorious Sunday will motivate me for the next 12 months, until I get a chance to do it all again.  Congrats to Richie Cunningham who held on for a tough win, and is proving he is a force to be reckoned with at this distance.

Take-Aways

In lieu of my usual “Take-Aways” section I’ve decided to devote a second blog post to a more detailed analysis of my results, drawing some comparisons to the beginning of the season in the hope of finding some signs of progress.  So look for that in the next few days, but for now I’ll skip right to the thank yous…

Thank Yous

First thank you goes out to my lovely girlfriend Maura, two great friends Bryan and Kerrie, beautiful Aunt Patti, intrepid Uncle Bert, and belligerent cousin Lauren for coming out to support.  Although next time, Lauren, I’m going to need you to tone it down a bit.  No more airguns, no more booing the competition, and no more throwing rice at people.  But loved the enthusiasm, good stuff.  And seriously, these races are so much more fun when you have people to share them with.  Thanks for giving me such a big part of your weekend.

Second thank you goes out to Jesse Thomas for the use of the swimskin.  Who knows how far back I would have been without it… would have been ugly for sure.  Tell those guys at ROKA they have a good thing going.  I’ll have to get my own someday.  And congrats on a hard fought second.  I thought you were going to get him.  Hopefully next time.

I have to thank Rev3 for a phenomenal race experience.  Your attention to the little things (like life-size posters of all the pros) is what sets you apart from other race organizers, in my opinion.  Most of all, I appreciated your hospitality, your challenging new course, and your emphasis on making these things fun for everyone, not just the racers.  I only wish there were more of your events out west… hint hint.  Best luck for continued growth!

And I like to save the volunteers for last.  You guys truly do make these races possible.  But I need to thank two of you in particular.  First, the police officer who drove after me on his motorcycle when the aid station didn’t have any ice ready.  This guy collected ice, drove ahead, then parked his bike and handed it to me as I ran by.  Like my own little private, Portland Police-staffed aid station!  One of the cooler things that’s ever happened to me while racing.  And second, the junior-high aged dude who sprinted after me for about 200 meters to bring me a gel when the mile 11 aid station didn’t have one handy.  I was running on fumes at that point, and if not for that gel I probably would have blown.  And damn, you’ve got some speed son!  If you can catch me wearing cargo shorts and Jordans, you should think about a career in triathlon.

That’s all for now, but more post-race analysis to come!  Thanks for reading.

Gut Check

Hello everyone.  It’s been three solid weeks since the Boise ice parade.  You may recall, at the end of that RR I mentioned having another entertaining blog idea that isn’t exactly race-related (sort of like when I made you all look at pictures of my minivan).  I haven’t really had the time to do that idea justice, so it’ll have to wait.  Actually, I haven’t really had the time for much, but I wanted to post something before the Rev3 race here in Portland this weekend.

For a variety of reasons, I am approaching this race with a bit more seriousness than is my custom.  Basically, to this point I’ve been pretty cavalier and open-minded when it comes to racing: just thrilled to be in the pro field and looking to enjoy the experience.  Assuredly, that attitude is still underlying, and I’m definitely looking for a good time.  But for this one – with a few races under my belt, and for reasons I will go into later – I feel a bit more dedicated.

Leading into it I’ve had a key thought for each discipline.  You could call them personal accountability goals – standards that I will absolutely hold myself to, even if nothing goes to plan on raceday.  Making such goals is an excellent tool for mental preparation and pre-race focusing, and not one I have employed much this year.  So in the absence of one of my typically informal, casually funny blog topics, I decided to share these thoughts instead.  I can, when necessary, be quite serious.  Fittingly, they are short and to the point:

1). Swim with honesty.  Come out fast, find a pack that’ll make you work for it, and do your best to hang on.  But if that pack doesn’t exist, and you find yourself swimming alone, keep the effort honest.

2). Ride with confidence.  At this point in the season, after all the miles, and all the races, the power is in the legs.  Ride like your run won’t be affected.  Be confident, keep the cadence high, and hammer.

…and most importantly…

3). Run with courage.  Don’t quit on the run before your feet even hit the pavement.  Start at goal pace and stick to it as long as you can, even if it’s only for a mile.  Don’t let mental weakness be the reason you don’t execute the run you know you have in you.  Go to the well on this one, or face an off-season of regret.

So bring on the toughest field I’ve faced all year.  Bring on the hilly-ass bike course and the pancake-flat run route that is going to be a sprint fest.  Hold yourself to your own standards and express your fitness perfectly.  If you do that, you can go home proud.

See you on the other side,

Andrew