Wildflower Half-Ironman Triathlon
May 6, 1995
Summary
Chance of a lifetime, and I blew it. But I had fun anyway.
Scene
Wildflower Half-Ironman Triathlon, Lake San Antonio (southern tip
of Monterey County, California). Several thousand triathletes.
Weather
80's, 90's are the usual numbers for Wildflower. This year - 60-65
and overcast. I was actually cold (more about that later). If there is
ever going to be a C.R. year, this is it.
Prologue
I'm afraid it all started here. Staying 45 minutes away in the
nearest town (your only choice if you don't want to camp). Set the alarm
for 5:15. Both Debi and I are wearing earplugs to drown out highway noise.
"No problem, Debi, I *always* hear the alarm." :-) Yeah, guess what? At
6:05 I spring out of bed (who knows why?). "DEBI GET UP." So much for
carefully preparing Cytomax bottles and eating breakfast. We're packed
and out the door by 6:30, but I could only handle one yogurt in the car
while driving to the race. Too close to race start, too nervous for a
bagel. *Caloric debt starts here.* Arrive in time but thank God Debi is
driving - she lets me off by the transition area and has to drive a mile
or more to park. As at every race I thank the stars I'm an old guy. THE
race may start at 8:00, but MY race doesn't start until 8:25 (wave 5). By
8:10 or so, there are no lines at the portapotties, my gear is carefully
laid out in the transition area, and I'm ready.
Wildflower organization note
Wildflower is the only triathlon I've ever
done that has *marked spots* (with your name on it) in the transition
area. Plenty of room, no worry about arriving late and finding no space.
Wonderful!
The swim
Thought I had a good swim (for me), but definitely took an
uncharacteristically poor line at several points (that does it - I'm
getting goggles with diopters). As I get out, though, my watch reads
48:38, vs. 48:44 last year - definite disappointment. My training times
led me to hope for a 1-2 minute improvement. Oh well. Transition in 5:01
(it's a LONG way from the water to my bike and then out of the area; this
is a good time); last year was 5:11. Mr. Consistency.
The bike
In one mile, you hit (Son of a) Beach Hill, 400 ft. in 2/3 mile.
I still haven't caught my breath from the swim and transition, and have
literally been panting for the entire mile, but up I cruise. "You make
it look so easy" says one woman as I roll by her, pedalling smooth circles
in my lowest gear. Man, that feels good! By the time we leave the park
at mile 6, I've passed probably 30 riders, virtually every one on an
uphill. Around mile 10, Gary Wang says hello as he becomes one of the few
people to pass me on the bike (there weren't that many people left in the
water when I got out!).
At mile 19 we turn onto Jolon Rd. and the road surface seems very rough.
My bike starts chattering. Damn that's annoying. Finally, after I've
passed an aid station, and probably 2-3 miles later, a woman comes by and
says, "Do you know your front tire is flat?" No, as a matter of fact, I
didn't. Shoot! For the first time in an eight-year career, I'm going to
have to change a flat. Took me 6:28. Looks like c.r. is in serious danger,
but I can always subtract out the 6:28 if I have to. It's MY c.r., you
know!
The rest of the ride is uneventful, just lots more hills. Avocet 50 says
the total climbing on this ride is 3490 ft. I look forward to the hills
as a chance to pass more people. But I certainly never get back to the
people I had been jockeying with for the first 20 miles before the flat,
that's for sure. Finish the ride in 3:16:46 riding time, disappointing
compared to last year's 3:12:55 (but I didn't know that at the time).
Consumed my bottle of Cytomax, several handups of Gatorade, and two
PowerBars (carefully cut in half and put in my bike jersey pockets).
Feeling strong at this point. Transition in 1:52 (1:56 last year!),
putting on my DRS singlet, headband, visor, and Ultimate waist bottle all
as I run out of the transition area. I'm psyched!
The run
Last year I ran strong, got to the hills, saw everyone else
walking, and gave up - started to walk. This year the run was mine - I
was going to run those hills and own that course. Started out on a nice
8:30 pace, just where I wanted. Two 5K races the week before made it
seem like a nice, easy pace - perfect. Slowed on the uphills but everyone
else slowed more and I was passing people steadily. Averaging 9:30's
through the hilliest sections but last year was 1:15 or so/mile slower so
this is great. Sucked down a GU, and ate a PowerBar. Ran through every aid
station, thanks to my Ultimate - just grab water, dump it in the bottle
(which I open as I approach the station), and then go - probably passed
two people at each aid station. In the ninth mile I start to tire so
walked about 1/4-1/3 mile but power walking, not defeated walking. Ran
the downhill mile from 9-10 and then every step of the psychologically
difficult all uphill mile from 10 to 11.
And then I died.
Just after mile 11, I ran out of fuel. I wasn't exhausted - legs and
cardiovascular were tiring, but had plenty left. But all of a sudden, I
was tingly, light-headed, and was afraid I was about to pass out. Started
shivering - where the heck is that sun when you need it? I think this
is hypothermia. I literally staggered and stumbled from mile 11 to the
aid station at mile 12 - 23:58 for that mile, for the record. :-} Except
for the first flat mile and the last downhill mile, this is literally
the easiest mile on the course. :-( Probably a dozen people said "You
can make it" as they ran by. Everyone I had worked so hard to pass on
the run and bike was going by, no doubt. One guy offered me his shirt
but I declined.
Finally made the the aid station, sucked down six glasses of Gatorade,
then sat down in a chair and had four more. After an eternity, got up,
ran the literally few hundred yards to the top of the finishing hill, and
then cruised the last (very steep) downhill mile to the finish. 6:40:50.
Last year was 6:20:08.
So close (to a good race), and yet so far. 68 good miles. Unfortunately
a 70-mile race.
If only I had had time for that bagel at breakfast. Those were the
missing calories I needed for that last mile. Yeah, that's it. Getting
serious, I think the colder temperatures, especially on the bike,
increased my caloric requirement, and I needed to eat more to
compensate.
How many years does it take in this sport to get it right?
Wildflower is one tough race. I'll be back.
Steve "Mr. Consistency" Patt
BADRunner@aol.com back in Cupertino, CA following a delightful two-day
vacation in Cambria, CA
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