I’ll
apologize in advance: this one reads a little long. I may have gotten a little carried away with
some details and mental imagery, especially on the run. But I can say in all honesty, this was my
best race ever. So cut me some slack,
I’m excited about it and want to be able to relive the memory when I’m 80 years
old and can’t remember my own name.
Pre-Race
Getting down
to a race in California always presents the opportunity for adventure. We were able to capitalize on it, as my
girlfriend Elena and I made a great little trip out of the journey south. Highlights included:
- An early morning swim at Applegate Lake in the Rogue River
Wilderness
Little post-swim breakfast - Climbing around the biggest tree I’ve ever encountered, in Redwood Nat’l Park, where one of those iconic goliaths had gotten so big it actually splintered apart at the trunk and four new trees had erupted out of its root structure. It looked like a massive fortress of red wood spires and gnarly wooden battlements.
- A breathtaking drive through Sonoma County, and getting set up
at the funky Guerneville Lodge, where you can camp on a lawn that actually runs
right down to the Russian River. It was
so close to the race start we got to watch them drop buoys and set up the swim
course
Buoy line the evening before the race
The night
before the race, I spoke with Coach Chris on the phone. His consistent piece of advice, which would
become a theme for this race, was simply to “let the effort build.”
Swim
River swims
are always a little different. Although
the Russian River is dammed up, there was nevertheless a slight current. The swim upstream to the turn-around buoy
would keep the group more compressed than usual, then the return journey would
go about a minute faster.
I cut it
close, but got everything set up in transition and jumped in the river just in
time. The water was warm, but WTC allows wetsuits up to 76 degrees, which basically just means everyone wears
one and gets super hot. There were 30+
dudes at the start, so many they actually had to cap the pro entry. And the names were ridiculous: Bevan Docherty,
Terenzo Bozzone, Joe Gambles, Tim Don, Jordan Rapp… Andy Potts and Craig
Alexander no-showed, but they weren’t really needed to make this a first-rate
field.
I swam hard
and moved well off the line, settling into my usual group at this point, which
I’m going to call second pack (it seems there are usually 1-3 super-swimmers who go off
the front alone, then a main chase pack of serious contenders, and then a second
pack). I later decided that my homies
were moving a little slow and set off alone.
Perhaps I’m improving…!?
The swim
took a surprising twist when – about 900 meters in – the river became so
shallow that you could literally rake the bottom with your fingers on every
stroke. At many places it was so shallow
you couldn’t even extend your arm all the way.
I had outswam a few dudes who caught and passed me dolphin diving! I couldn’t believe it. I clambered to my feet to try a few dives
myself only to see that the entire men’s field was doing it. They were strung out ahead of me, standing
and diving, standing and diving, the final 100 meters to the turn-around. And on the other side of the river, already
on their way back to T1, the leaders were doing the same thing. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen in a
race. I ended up doing a fair bit of
diving myself, but when it was deep enough to swim I elected to do that. I found that I went just as fast, and the
standing and diving really messed with my rhythm and heart rate.
Not a lot of room in this river; in the age group waves many swimmers get pushed to the sides where they have to walk |
Bike
The bike
course down there was simply stunning.
Rolling terrain punctuated by scrubby hills, with every corner of every
acre being used to grow grapes, save for the Tuscan-style villas and wineries
that dotted the landscape. There was a
chill in the cool, humid air as I settled into a rhythm. I was passed by Kenneth Rakestraw – another
young guy in the field – who I’d seen at Wildflower already this year. I tried to pace him for awhile but he slowly
distanced himself.
I was passed by another dude at mile 15, but ended up pulling him back around mile 25 as his energy flagged. Which leads me to a thought about race pacing. And since this is my blog, you all either have to read it or read around it. So here is a nice little nugget of Langfield wisdom for you: if you’re like me, and not in serious contention for the podium in a field of this quality, you are really just looking to have your best race, and to be consistent. So I’m confused by guys in my position who ride outside of themselves at first, reportedly “responding to the dynamics of the race,” only to fade on the back half of the bike or run. How do they not know that’s going to happen? Better by far to build into the effort, something I’ve learned from Chris.
It was a chilly morning Photo props to Triathlete Mag |
I was passed by another dude at mile 15, but ended up pulling him back around mile 25 as his energy flagged. Which leads me to a thought about race pacing. And since this is my blog, you all either have to read it or read around it. So here is a nice little nugget of Langfield wisdom for you: if you’re like me, and not in serious contention for the podium in a field of this quality, you are really just looking to have your best race, and to be consistent. So I’m confused by guys in my position who ride outside of themselves at first, reportedly “responding to the dynamics of the race,” only to fade on the back half of the bike or run. How do they not know that’s going to happen? Better by far to build into the effort, something I’ve learned from Chris.
I was riding
and eating well, passing a couple more dudes between miles 35-40. I was super surprised and super thrilled when Elena
popped up in the middle of nowhere, around mile 37 on the side of the road. I gave her a wave but kept my focus; I was
trying to decide the best place on the course to pee.
Chalk Hill is the second spike, a few hundred feet only, nowhere near as bad as it looks here |
Finally I hit
Chalk Hill and smoked it, passing a couple more guys as I jumped out of the
saddle and hammered. Dammit I love
hills. And the speedy descent that
required little to no pedaling for about a minute provided the perfect
opportunity for you know what. I was at
T2 before I knew it, and executed one of my better dismounts. On the way out I saw Elena and my two friends
Tom and Katie who had come up from Palo Alto to watch. Of course this got me really pumped, so I
threw my hands in the air and yelled “WHAT’S UP Y’ALL?!” The best part was still ahead.
Run
Here is
where I had some serious fun. I think everything just came together: a solid training block, a restful taper, productive nutrition during the 48 hours before
the event, effective fueling with gels and sports drink on the bike, and an
excellent race plan. For the first time ever, I felt like I was able to run to my potential. I wrote sort of a lot about this part, so if
you’re bored already you should probably just skip to the end.
Recalling
the travesty that occurred at Boise – during which I sullied myself and brought
shame on my entire family – I started slow to allow my stomach to settle and
let the effort build from there. I covered
miles 1, 2 and 3 at a comfortable pace. Then I risked it all… and took a gel. And to my delight, it went down with no
problems! My stomach, which had been
rejecting them outright at my last race, took it in stride. I got a little concerned around mile 5 when
it started to clench up, but then I farted and immediately felt better, and
wasn’t at all embarrassed to give a triumphant holler. Miles 4, 5, and 6 were covered a little faster. Then I took another gel and
charged into the La Crema Winery.
La Crema should probably try to get some better real estate |
I had
started the run about 2’ down on Jamie Whyte, a veteran competitor out of New
Zealand. He had been an excellent
carrot for me to chase thus far, pretty much maintaining that gap for the first
half of the run. But in the vineyard – with
row after row of grapes rushing by – I was invigorated. I relinquished my hold on my heart rate and
let it climb into the high 160s, a little sooner than planned. But I was feeling good, eating well, and
thought I’d be able to sustain it. I cruised
the two miles of dirt trail, typically one of the slower stretches on the run
course, with my fastest splits yet. When I exited,
I had started to make up some ground on him.
With about
30 minutes of running to go, I entered the only out-and-back section on the
entire race course. It’s always
motivating to see your competitors cruising by in the other direction. Some were running strong, with smooth strides
and determined expressions. The faces of
others – to borrow an expression from legendary TdF announcer Phill Liggett – were “a
perfect picture of pain.” Both images
are motivating, the former pushing you on to try and remain in the company of
such veterans, the latter luring you on in the hope of overtaking some
stragglers.
I hit the
turn-around after holding pace for mile 9 – hooting at Elena, Tom and Katie – but
I could start to feel the wheels coming off, so I braced myself mentally and
committed to four miles of pretty severe discomfort. I took another gel and started pleading with
my legs. My head was doing everything in
its power to shut things down, so I relied on one of my favorite mantras: “this
is hardly the time to run like a softman.”
Miles 10 and 11 went by with considerable effort. Then, after over an hour of chasing, I caught
my man.
Jamie looked
at me and in his New Zealand accent said “Chraist its gatten fast out here,
innit it?” We ran together for a bit,
but not feeling like I’d have much of a sprint in me if it came down to the
final meters, I decided to step on it with 2 miles to go. I took my last gel and tried to hammer it
home. I was thrilled when he didn’t
follow, and covered the final miles in 5:45 and 5:25, respectively. The high-fives down the finishing chute;
Elena, Tom and Katie yelling at me; complete surprise as I saw my 4:05
finishing time, good enough for 16th overall in one of the toughest
70.3s on the circuit… all broke into a huge smile as I hit the tape.
Take-Aways
I can’t help
myself… I’m just so happy with this race. Not so much my placing, or my time, or what have you. But I think it was my best effort and execution to date… about as good as I can do given my
current fitness, experience, equipment, etc.
And that, my friends, is a very satisfying feeling. So that's the main thing.
Also, while I’m reticent to dethrone last year’s Rev 3 Portland race, I think this was actually the most beautiful race I’ve ever done. The river swim, the rolling vineyards of Sonoma county, the picturesque La Crema Winery we actually ran right through, the immaculate high school in Windsor that served as T2/finish area, it was all stunning. Definitely a repeat.
Another big take away was the fueling plan. I included the general outline here so I can consult it from here on out, although my pre-race nutrition I'm going to keep to myself:
Also, while I’m reticent to dethrone last year’s Rev 3 Portland race, I think this was actually the most beautiful race I’ve ever done. The river swim, the rolling vineyards of Sonoma county, the picturesque La Crema Winery we actually ran right through, the immaculate high school in Windsor that served as T2/finish area, it was all stunning. Definitely a repeat.
Another big take away was the fueling plan. I included the general outline here so I can consult it from here on out, although my pre-race nutrition I'm going to keep to myself:
- Swim: 1 gel 15' before race start
- Bike: 3 bottles sports drink, 1 bottle water, 4 gels at :30, 1:00, 1:30, and 2:00
- Run: gels at miles 3, 6, 9, 11 with fluids as needed (mostly water, one or two sports drink/cola)
Lastly, Bevan Docherty is going to win Kona this year. You
heard it here first.
Bevan winning. Again. |
Thank Yous
First thank
you goes out to Elena, who added to this trip in untold ways and was so
supportive. Thank you for
being the trip planner/camp finder/navigator/head chef/sous chef/prep chef/tent
dismantler/car loader/car unloader/public relations lady/financier/dog
groomer/sandwich maker/hike locator/IT consultant/wine taster/girlfriend. And Tom and Katie, you guys were awesome, and
I can’t thank you enough for coming up.
Great seeing you both and hanging out after the race. Turns out you can have a lot of fun in the
wine region of CA.
And gotta thank
Amy at Vineman for all of the communication, planning, camping recommendations,
and general helpfulness. Also, I don’t
know who you are, but all of you folks who were involved in the design and
early development of this race all those years ago… it really shows. Yes it is run by WTC at this point, which
always provides a seamless, smooth race experience. But you could really tell the course was
designed by locals, and this event has been held in this active, supportive
community for years. It had all of the
charms and character of a small, local race, and I hope it never loses
that. I will certainly be coming back
any chance I get.
Sonoma, so beautiful. |
Thanks Coach
Chris, I think we nailed this one about as best as we could. In case I haven’t made it clear, I’m quite
happy about it. And Athlete’s Lounge for
the support out on the course. I will be
coming into the shop again soon.
And as
always, you blog and twitter followers, and general hooligans who read this
stuff. You’re always in my heart and
mind when I’m racing.
Calgary race report already in the works. See you soon!
Calgary race report already in the works. See you soon!
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