Multisport Maps: Vermont Half-Iron Race Report (Part 1 of 2)

I did my first half-ironman this weekend, up in Central Vermont. This was my A-race since the beginning of the season, and despite an injury-plagued couple months, I went through with it and had a good time. I’ve broken my race-report up into two pieces; the first part covers the content of the race, while the second deals more with the process of training and racing it – what I learned from the experience. Part two will come along in a few days, but here’s the nitty-gritty:

Swim (1.2 miles): I knew it would be a long day, so my first real goal here was to swim easy. I let the lead pack go almost right from the gun, and settled in with the second pack for a couple hundred yards of easy swimming. As usual, the pack got strung out pretty quickly (mostly from people settling back to a pace they can actually sustain), and I found myself alone. I stayed long and relaxed, and soon enough, found two guys to swim with. After I hit the second buoy, I picked up the pace a bit, and found a great pair of feet to ride almost all the rest of the way back in (thanks, whoever you are). I exited the water in something around 35 minutes, and most importantly, feeling fresh.

Bike (56 miles): Because I’m an above-average swimmer, and a below-average biker, I’m used to being passed a lot coming out of T1. Still, each race I struggle with my inclination to try and “keep up” – to ride at someone else’s pace instead of my own. This time it was no different, but I respected the distance, and knew I could get in trouble fast with my lack of run fitness. So, I sat in, and watched a lot of people whiz on by. The miles actually went pretty quick (despite being really cold in the driving rain), and rolling into T2, I was pleased with my ride – my pace was right, my nutrition and hydration was good, and my body felt ready to run.

Run (13.1 miles): This is really what I was worried about coming into the race. I’ve had a bad ankle injury keeping me (mostly) on the sidelines for nearly three months now – these 13 miles would about equal my run volume of that period. However, I was pleased to feel good right off the bike. My pace was much slower than I would have expected had I been training, but all considering, I was just happy to be running. I caught a few people early, then passed a couple more hitting the turnaround. At about mile 10, I started to feel pretty tired – my hip flexors started to burn, and my cadence slowed a little. At mile 11, I was really dragging - my face was screwed up in pain, and drool started to come out the side of my mouth (picture Macca during the Kona marathon last year, just a whole lot slower). At mile 12, it got bad – the most pain I’ve ever felt at one time. I had to stop briefly to stretch out cramps in both hamstrings, and don’t know exactly where the energy to keep going came from (except that running was the quickest way back to my car). Finally, I crested a hill, and saw the final turn right in front of me. I took a left into the park, and ran down the finishing shoot alone. I stopped the clock at 5:47:38.

The rain made taking any pictures difficult out on the course, but here are a couple shots:

My father (left) and fellow-athlete Steve T. at the campsite Saturday night: