Chasing Lance—Florida 70.3 Race Report

I'm hoping to get pictures from Florida up sometime soon, but in lieu of those I'll post a story of the race and put photos up later. Yesterday was Florida 70.3, and I'm now distant enough from the event to look at the day with some perspective. Chapeau to Lance Armstrong, who simply stormed away on the bike and run to take the win in dominating fashion. Here's how it went down:

The Swim
The swim at Florida takes place in Lake Eva Park in Haines City. The park is just a few years old, I learned after the race from a friendly local named Wayne, who says it has "really changed things around here." I'm guessing for the better, since Haines City seems like one of those slightly depressed towns that's making a run at improving things. Each day I was down at the venue the park was full of kids playing basketball and tennis, or swimming in the community pool. The park is lovely, with a bandshell and jungle gyms for the littler kids. The venue is much improved from the old soulless location in Disneyworld, with its attendant difficulties at getting in and out (and the general insanity Disney contributes to anything it touches). Anyway. One of the real perks is the aforementioned pool, which opened for free at 5:30am the morning of the race. Jason Watson (another one of Cliff's athletes) and I set our transition areas up, walked over to the outdoor pool (it's about 200 meters from the start), and got in a really nice 25 minute warmup. We were the only ones in the pool, unbelievably. After that it was time to go, so we headed to the start, felt what the lake water felt like (brown bathwater), and lined up to start. I grabbed the left side of the starting line, while a big group nabbed the standard right side. The gun went off and I had a great start, getting off the line ahead of most of the other racers. A small group was forming along the buoy line (to the right), and I drifted over to them when I felt I had the space to do so. That was the front chase pack, with Lance, Maxim Kriat, and several of the other contenders. Alas, I had the speed/fitness to stick with that group, but I appear to have an alignment problem: I pull to the right in non-wetsuit swims. I kept losing the feet in front of me because I couldn't swim straight. Soon I was in no-man's-land, halfway between the Lance group, and the huge group that would swim around 28 minutes. I got out of the water in 26:23, about 1:30 down to the Lance group and 1:30 up on the next group. One funny thing about the Haines City swim course is that it looks like a pair of pants, a modification the organizers had to make due to the drought presently going on in Florida.

See: pants. So during the whole swim I was thinking: Outseam, cuff, inseam, crotch, inseam, cuff, outseam. I came out of the water and made the LONG run through transition (pros have to flow through the whole transition area), seeing a few riders leaving transition ahead of me.

The Bike
The bike course at Florida is a lot of fun, actually. Way more fun than the old course (which I still liked) but certainly harder. The race organizers advertised an elevation gain of 748 feet, which ended up being about 1000 feet short. My Garmin, after the race, recorded a total gain of 1699. Once you get through the largely flat first 30 miles, the course begins to really roll. It's a fair course, which I applaud. There are a few sketchy sections of pavement, and I would encourage future racers to ride the first ten miles or so, because it's fairly "technical" (mountain bikers would laugh at that description), in that there are a lot of 90 degree turns. I imagined the former world tour time trial specialist going through the corners ahead of me, held my breath, and tried to roll through most of them without brakes. You can do it, for sure, but you should practice it first. I think that a good bike-handler could gain 2-3 minutes just by carrying a lot of speed through those corners. I rode well for the first half of the ride, catching a few riders (old friend/adversary Andrew Hodges and another racer named Seifart, whom I do not know). When I hit the rollers, though, I really started to struggle, and the plan for the day (begin at 290 watts and slowly creep up to 305-310) went out the window. I don't know what it was, but the watts began to drop off in the last ten miles. My second lap power (the last 28 miles) fell from 295 to 289 over just those ten miles, suggesting something was really off. I came into transition, racked the bike, got my shoes and socks on, and headed out into the heat.

The Run
The new run course at Florida is again hillier than its predecessor. You come out of transition, run along a concrete path, exit the park, and begin the ascent of two rolling hills. The hills aren't bad, but with the heat it would be easy to overcook yourself early on the run. I just tried to keep my cadence going, and pushed the pace as I fell down the backside of each hill. After the two hills you run along the south side of the lake, losing elevation the whole way, before gently ascending back up to the north side of the park. You make a little lollipop at three miles (this was nice, because I could see the runners ahead of me, except for Lance, who was already 18 minutes up the road at this point). As I made the turn I saw Maxim Kriat (speaking in Ukranian, presumably asking his coach "how far up the road is he?") and a few others, making up the chase group of 2nd through 4th. I figured I was about six minutes down on them, which would be tough but not impossible to make up, especially on a hot day. The three lap format was much more pleasant than I thought it would be, making it feel like you weren't ever that far from transition. As I was about to finish my second lap I got to glimpse Lance for the second time that day (the first being at the start of the swim). I do have to hand it to him: he was running hard even though he probably knew he had a huge lead. I made it back out onto lap three without getting lapped by the old man (I think he lapped everyone except the other nine in the top ten), where I started to struggle. Luckily, an age grouper on his first lap came up next to me and helped wake me up, and we ran together for a couple of miles. At mile 12 I started my usual ramp-up, and came over the finish line in 1:21, taking 7th place: not a bad run on a hot day. I turns out it was a good thing I had that AGer to run with, because another Portland-based pro, Andrew Langfield, was only 55" behind me and running well. Andrew Hodges was the next one back, which surprised me: he used to run me down all the time a few years ago.

After the race I had some quality time with sponsors Compressport and Newton, both of whom were very generous, letting me sit down in the shade of their tents for a while. I was the first pair of Newtons over the line, which is good, but only the second set of Compressport products, as fellow sponsee Francesc Godoy took home third place. My legs were saved today by a pair of the Compressport full-leg compression sleeves: I feel almost human.

A big thanks, as always, to Athletes Lounge for making this dream possible; Cliff English for coaching; Jesse Kropelnicki at QT2 systems for nutrition; Compressport, Newton, PowerBar, Rolf Prima, Argon-18 Bikes, Orca, and Zeal Optics. Also a big thanks to PACE (Portland Athletic Center for Excellence) for keeping me healthy and supple.

Next race is Boise 70.3, on June 9th, although I am going to go and ride my mountain bike at the Sisters Stampede this coming weekend. We'll see how the legs hold up...

Video—Bend Spring Training Camp 2012

1k2go Spring Training Camp—Bend from Chris Bagg on Vimeo.

Amy worked tirelessly at our Bend Spring Training Camp to make our 12 athletes' experiences comforting, convenient, and beautiful. Now she takes on the role of head marketer/videographer and creates this great recap of the weekend. Have I mentioned how grateful I am to have her in my existence? Enjoy.

Oceanside 70.3 Race Report

OK, the first race of 2012 is in the books: Oceanside 70.3. Even though the result didn't end up being great, I'm happy with the effort on Saturday, and I also know that I'll be back to Oceanside for sure in the future: it's a great race and excellently run. I'd love to thank everyone who helped me get down there, exist while I was down there, race, and return home to Portland: my homestay, Devin, and his family, who were incredibly generous in letting me stay until the Tuesday after the race; my training partner Chris Boudreaux; and my title sponsors Athletes Lounge. I'd like to give a particular thanks to Compressport, whose amazing compression tights appear at left. My contacts at Compressport set me up with a bunch of stuff I needed when I got down to Oceanside: the aforementioned tights, which the day after the race bearable (and came in even more useful later, but more about that below), and two pairs of their competition socks, which, if you haven't seen, you should check out. They have these little dots on them that appear odd at first, but work to keep your feet dry and blister-free. I always have terrible feet after 70.3s, but not this time.

Here's a summary of my discussion with Cliff after the race.

The Swim: The swim at Oceanside is cold; anyone knows that. Expecting nice weather is like hoping for beautiful cycling in Belgium in March. You're going to be cold, so plan accordingly. Many other pros had arm warmers on, but I've got a good amount of native insulation to keep me warm, so I just went with toe covers, which was a great idea. Still, at 58 degrees in the water, prepare to be chilly. I prepared mentally for the cold by thinking of it as a dawn patrol surf session, and that eased the cold a bit. You should also prepare for no warmup. We walked down the ramp, swam 100 meters or so out to the starting line, floated for a minute or two (as the organizers, as always, shouted "Back, back!" and no one listened), and began. I was near the front for the first three hundred meters, I'd say, in a good position, but then got swamped and, honestly, let it get to me. I was battling with someone on either side of me, and that stress plus the cold began to exhaust me. As I used to do in races past, I checked out a bit mentally and, just like that, I was gapped from the main pack. This letdown is probably the most difficult for me to swallow. I've trained very well in the pool this spring, and just letting the stress get to me is so disheartening. Yes, I haven't swam in open water for months, with a pack, blah blah blah...the end result was about a two-and-a-half minute gap to the main pack by the time I came out of the water. Not great, I thought, but I'll make up time on the bike.

The Bike: Alas, this was not to be. I clocked myself as four minutes down on Matt Lieto and a big group who were all chasing Andy Potts (in vain, it turned out). Four minutes seemed very manageable, and I figured I'd ride back up through the group. When I went back to look at my times later, however, I was shocked to see that instead of gaining time on most of the field, I had been steadily losing time to most of the competitors. Cliff and I talked about the fact that I hadn't actually spent a ton of time on my own TT bike (issues with my fork and brakes), figuring that was the most likely culprit. I stuck to our prescribed program (290-295 watts for the first 45 miles, and then 310 for the last 11 miles, when the course flattens out but you usually experience a headwind; picking up the pace here, when others are tired, can mean several people picked off in the late stages of the bike), but only managed a 2:23 bike split. 2:23 wasn't far off from our original plan, as we'd talked about a high 2:teens, like 2:18 or 2:19. I was surprised, then, to see that most of the field had rode in the low 2:teens, like 2:13-2:15. I'd given up almost ten minutes to the leaders, after giving up three in the water. The day was done. Cliff and I spoke on Monday, the day after Galveston 70.3, and he said "The 70.3 game is changing. The way these guys are attacking the bike course (Lance Armstrong, Tim O'Donnell, Marino Vanhoenacker, Sebastian Kienle) is changing the way we'll have to think about racing." Seeing that Cliff coaches Tim, who rode hard but then had enough left to run down the whole field, is a comfort. The short answer is that I need to spend more time on my bike, and more time needs to spent at race intensities. Oh, and I still need to lose some weight.

The Run: The bright spot, which is funny, considering that I've come to think of myself as a swim/bike guy. Picking up the pace over the last eleven miles of the bike didn't fry my legs: in contrast, it seemed to get them ready for the higher intensity of the run. I came off the bike, experienced the usual stiffness in transition, and moved out onto the run course, feeling good. Jesse Kropelnicki, of QT2 systems, does my race nutrition, and I took my early-run gel (PowerGel) as soon as I left T2. Jesse says to take a gel right away, and then a second if my stomach felt OK. I got both down and started ticking off sub-six miles. The plan was to "virtual negative split," which means running even both halves, or very close to even. The Oceanside course is usually one of the tougher 70.3 (not as hard, though, as UK 70.3 or some of the crazier European courses), and you can count on runners to slow down a bit towards the end, as they did in 2010 when run and bike times were noticeably slower. Last weekend was, however, basically perfect for race conditions, and even though I ran a personal second-best run time of 1:19, I only worked my way up to 22nd place, although I passed a lot of guys on the final leg.

It's been almost a week, now, and the disappointment is fading. There's a lot of good to take out of this race: I know what I need to work on (mental skills on the swim, bike fitness, weight loss), and I ran quite well. It's also important to remember that Oceanside is very early on the calendar, and until this year I haven't been able to train full-time. Last year racing in March would be out of question. It's funny that I ran to my exact placing at this race and Wildflower last year, which was my first race of 2011 (22nd place). 22nd isn't anything to be proud of, but I can't change the race now, and I have a lot to take forward.

Post-Race: Carlsbad and Oceanside are cool towns, and I enjoyed the sun for a few days post-race, before getting on the train to go back to Portland. Yep, that's right, I said train. I boarded a 30-hour train from Oceanside to PDX on Tuesday morning at 7:01, scheduled arrival Portland, Oregon the following day at 3:05 PM. This is where those Compressport tights really, really came in helpful. Other than getting off the train with two fluid-filled garbage bags for legs, my lower body felt surprisingly snappy. My massage therapist, Kurt, confirmed the fact when I saw him on Thurday morning. "You don't feel like you just got off a 30-hour train ride," he remarked. I would really suggest the train to you all at some point; it really is a great adventure, probably one of the few left out there.

Rev3 Triathlon Portland Bike Course—Pre-ride

The weather forecast for the weekend just past was for a return to rain, so I shuffled my schedule around and went out for a long ride with Casey. Living on the west side, with most of Portland between me and the Mt Hood area, I don't get out to that part of the world very often, which is a shame, since the riding is sublime. I'd been meaning to ride the new Revolution3 Portland bike course for some time, and Friday presented itself as the day to do it. I'm glad I did, but not just for the standard reasons of scouting a course prior to racing it. This is going to be one one of the harder courses you've ever done, but it's also going to be the most beautiful and enjoyable. Up until Friday my high water mark for a triathlon course was, well, Rev3 South Carolina. I may sound sycophantic right now, but I think the Rev3 course designers go out of the way to find courses with almost perfect pavement. The SC course was glassy and rolling; Portland is smooth and punchy, with many short, sharp climbs. The opening and closing of the course is straightforward enough (and the punctilious should take note: the segment I've mapped above is about 8km short—I didn't adjust the out-and-back portion perfectly), rolling out along the smooth portion of Marine Drive. Once you pass through Troutdale, however, and cross the Sandy River, you begin to climb up the Historic Mt. Hood highway towards, you guessed it, Mt. Hood. Then the course takes a series of right hand turns while crossing the ridges (and subsequent ravines) that radiate out from our local volcano. The result is a bunch of steep (but non-technical) descents and sharp, switchback-y climbs. If you've got an 11-28 cassette somewhere in your quiver, this will be the race course for it. While out on course you'll pass through farmland, alpine meadow, and deep forest. It's going to be really interesting to see how people approach the course. I always err on the conservative side, but athletes who can climb and recover quickly will shine on this course. Spinners will also probably do well, although they'll have some time to make up on the run. Grinders should be careful, though. This is a course that will load up your legs, and if you muscle your way through it you'll pay later on. Descending skills will help, too, although I'll repeat that the descents are non-technical (and I'm sure the Rev3 people will have signage and marshalls out there to get you to slow down).

Casey and I rode happily through the course, loving the fast descents and graceful climbs. The weather was perfect, and we turned to each other several times to point out the obvious: we were lucky to be out riding this course in this weather.

Re-entry: Coming Back from Camp

We arrived in Portland last Tuesday night to driving rain, having covered the 1500 miles from Tucson in two days of driving. We'd been eating nothing but salt for two days (well, some fat, too; the last In-and-Out Burger on I-5 North is in Redding, CA, and I'd be a poseur if I didn't get my last chance an animal style double-up). Couple that with two days of sitting and 17 days of hard training, and we'd bloated up like those cells from the osmosis lab in AP Biology. I'd swelled to 186 lbs, a weight I haven't seen since college.

Enter PACE, a local Therapeutic Associates affiliate that specializes in athletic injury prevention and rehabilitation. I've written about Chris Ramsey before in these pages, one of the PTs that works there. Chris has rescued me from Achilles Tendonitis, rotator cuff imbalances, weak hips, fluky ankles, and my chronically hyperextended thumbs (twelve years of saving soccer balls off your thumbs will do that to one). The place is run by David McHenry, a tall former football player who looks like he could fold you in half if he wanted to, like one of those mustachioed weightlifters from the twenties, bending steel rods between their bare hands.

Since they are PTs, sometimes you do spend your time at PACE getting folded in half. Kurt, the massage therapist on-site, has worked on me for a little over a year now and he probably knows just a little less about me than Amy does. He's a former high-level cyclist (still cycles, that is, just not for teams on the other side of the Atlantic) who turned to massage and has done rubs for some pretty big-time guys. He saw me on Wednesday after we got home and started me on my way to recovery. He told me not to worry about the weight, that I'd probably come back to normal in couple of days, and then he went to work. Athletic massage, if you've never had the pleasure, is not really a soothing experience, but it's a proven vector for recovery. Endurance athletes of all stripes have known it works for years, but that pesky New York Times just got around to proving what everyone knows is right, and they published that recently here. It's a great little read for those of you interested in what's going on at the inter-celluar level of your bodies.

All of this is by way of saying "thank you" to the PTs and LMTs at PACE, who have kept me healthy for the past three seasons. David has graciously agreed to come on board as a sponsor this year, so you'll be seeing them in the side columns of this page. Many of you that have asked me about injury know that I always say "Go to PACE," so I hope you'll believe me now that I've entered into a sponsorship arrangement with them. They are magicians, and have saved many of my races over the past few years.

Other than that, I've been reminded of what coming home from summer camp was like a million years ago, back in middle and high school (or what coming home from college every May was like, since college was, essentially, camp for 18-22 year-olds). You've got to find a way to re-establish a rhythm to your life, since the old camp-y way of living just doesn't work. Taking a few days of light training, cleaning the house and kitchen, spending some solid hours at your desk, and connecting with the people who make your world work all are good strategies for getting back on track quickly.