One in the bag

I recently did the New Orleans 70.3 race and have only one thing to say about it- good to have one in the bag. I wasn't really expecting to have a breakthrough race with the way my early season training has gone but the result always seems to sting a little more when you know it could have been better.

It was my first time to New Orleans and from the moment we landed I would never have thought the whole city was under water such a short time ago. Kudos to all the people who got this city back on its feet. I am now a big fan of Nola, as the natives call it. The people are beyond friendly. We asked someone for directions and got a 15 minute explanation of the best way to go (it took 15 minutes because we had him repeat it 4-5 times.) The city just had this great vibe to it.

Back to the race...
The swim was in Lake Pontchartrain, which from the shore looks like a Great Lake or Ocean, its enormous. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the water. My expectations were that it would be pretty shitty water but it wasn't. It didn't even taste that bad.

The swim was point to point and there was a short bus ride from transition to the park where it started. We skipped the massive line of people waiting for the bus and jogged to the park. I didn't have much time to warm up because of poor planning but didn't care all that much. I jumped in and took a few strokes before the announcer cleared us out for the formal proceedings. After the national anthem we were escorted back into the water for the start. The gun went off and I swam as fast as I could to try to stay in the wake for as long as I could. That lasted about 300 M and after that I was by myself. I can never really tell when there are others around me in the swim. Some people pick their head up and look back at their competitors but I know better than to look back- all my competitors are in front of me. About half way through I noticed that I was being pushed out toward the buoys so I meandered my way back toward the shore. I could feel my right hand locking up as if it was cramping but wasn't. I lost power on my right side because my hand wouldn't stay straight. The last buoy was still pretty far ahead of me, which was a disheartening feeling. Head down, kick, rotate, pull, repeat. There was a short jetty before the last buoy and another 50 M to shore. Coming around the jetty my hand scraped across some sharp rocks and my hand split open, although I didn't realize it at the time. I took a gander at my watch and to my dismay I was well over 30 minutes. I was slightly pissed off and charged through transition trying to make up for lost time. I got to my bike threw on my helmet and went.

My legs were stiff starting out and I knew better than to try to push through it. The lactic acid gods don't like it when you try to do that. I kept the gear light and tried to get the blood circulating in my legs again. After about 2 miles I began to pick off all the women who passed me on the swim (they started 2 min back.) The course was mostly flat save for a few overpasses and was completely closed to traffic. Nice work Bill Burke! The road surface was great and the wind was fairly calm, which made for a fast day. There were a few turn arounds on the course that allowed me to see how far ahead the lead rider was. Chris Lieto was out front by about 12 min after 40 km. I was a little surprised but shouldn't have been as he is one of the fastest cyclists out there. I worked my way through the slower pro men and by the second turn around moved my way up into the top 20. Then the wind picked up and not in our favor. I didn't have a computer on my bike so I had no idea how fast I was going but went from a 53x14 to a 53x17 and a much lower cadence. That's when I really started to feel my WI roots. My back was beginning to show signs of my lack of mileage on the bike. I was forced to stand every 5 or so minutes to stretch- not good. I was able to rally in the last 5 miles knowing that the end was near. My hopes of a 2:10 bike were gone, however.

The second transition went off without a hitch. I did have to put socks on my wet feet, which is always a treat but I got off quickly. As I was working my way through the racks of bikes I heard the announcer say I was 18 minutes down on the leader Lieto. 18 minutes! WTF! Early season race I told myself and kept going.

I was fully expecting to experience some Achilles pain from the start of the run but it actually felt good. I clipped off the first mile just under 6 minutes and thought this might not be as bad as I expected. Then I started feeling the heat a little as it was pushing 85 degrees and I had the wind to my back. After that everything seemed to fall apart. My left quad was dead and every stride felt like a stab wound. I tried to keep my spirits up but that only lasted until mile 7 when my Achilles started to hurt. I walked through that aid station and decided to live to fight another day. From then on my only goal was not to walk for the remaining 6 miles. My pace slowed to 7 min/mi and that's all she wrote. To my surprise I was able to catch 3 more pros in the last 4 miles without even trying. The finish was at Jackson square, pretty much the epicenter of the French Quarter. It was an amazing place to finish. The crowds were 3+ deep for at least 1/2 mile from the line. My last memory of the race was zipping up my jersey before the line, as any good professional would do. :)