Hey all,
Well, I want to keep this brief, b/c if I don't, I'll get more frustrated, and for those who know me, that's not good. Before I start, let me reiterate, I hate, hate the weather in Chicago, as we again were treated to really special stuff this past weekend. A little over a week ago, I was riding in winter cycling gear, in 45 degree weather. This past Sunday, 90 degrees and 90 percent humidity. Plenty of time to acclimate.
Now, I sweat more than your typical athlete, I mean a lot more. Like, crazy amounts more. I'm the guy wringing his shirt out in 70 degree weather, so, days like yesterday, not my friend. But, I was positive I had hydrated properly, and took all the steps to be ready for the heat. And for the most part, I was. But only for the most part.
The Battle of Batavia, looked to be competitive yesterday, with some of the fast guys I raced against in Galena showing up to duke it out on a flatter course. A course, which suited me just fine. I had broke the first run record last year, and was hoping to stay with the fast guys on the first run so I wouldn't lose time on the bike. Once I got to the race, I was dealt a bit of bad news, the race director decided to split the Du into 2 waves, by Bib number. So, numbers 1-75 went first, 76 and over went off 4 minutes later. Mind you, this is being run in conjunction with a tri, so there are a lot of people all over the place, and a lot of them were first timers. My number was 82, I was second wave. The guys I wanted to race with, were in the first wave. When I looked at my wave, I knew I had no one to pace with, so, I politely, yes politely, asked to be in the first wave. I was told no, and accepted the answer, it wasn't going to change how I was going to race anyway. So, we went off, and I went hunting, looking to pick off people from the first wave, and use them as a carrot to help me keep pace. I entered T1 with a comfortable 11:58 opening 2.4 mile run, and felt good getting on the bike. I knew I was on a good day, checking my watts and speed, I was motoring. And I felt good. I mean, not just physically, but mentally, and not to get to existenntial, but spiritually as well. I was making up time, and I knew it. I wasn't passed once on the bike, and just kept tracking down that first wave. Got off the bike, took my initial few strides, and felt loose, so I started to go. The heat was bad, but, it wasn't until about 1.5 miles into the second run that I really felt it. My body started to shake with the chills, and I was getting dizzy.
I backed off my pace a bit, and was determined to keep running, and not stop. I knew I was giving back time, but, I was not going to give in. The last mile was torture, I was really dizzy, started to get tunnel vision, and thought I was going to black out. I crossed the line, and by the time they got my chip off, I leapt into a bush and started to vomit for a good 5-7 minutes. Fortunately, my girlfriend was there, and grabbed a medic, who took me in the ambulance. After a few minutes my vitals came down to acceptable levels, and I started to feel a bit better. Until I realized, I gave back all the time I made up on the lead group.
When the dust settled, I was less than 2 minutes out of the top 3, and less than 20 seconds out of 2nd in my AG to boot. The moral of the story - the race is not just about the 2 or 3 legs we race, its about the nutrition, hydration, rest, everything that goes with it. I thought I did everything right, but in talking with my sister, a nurse, and my team director, there were about 3 things I could have done differently that would have saved my race. The silver lining - it wasn't my legs. My legs were there, and the power and strength was there too. So, back to the drawing board with my coach, and figure out ways to beat you guys who beat me this weekend.
