Joe McDowell HITS North Country Full Triathlon
Joe McDowell. HITS North Country Full, June 21, 2014. Weight - 203 lbs, Age - 34. This was my first Full.
I decided to do this race back in December and set a goal of 10 hours for myself completely independent of the course profile. My plan was to go about an hour for the swim combined with my 2 transition times, 5:30 on the bike and 3:30 on the run. I set this goal based on a time of 5:27 on a half distance I did on a flat course in the FIRM man last fall. Looking back now, I am confident everyone, including myself, would and should have thought I was nuts. That said, here is my race report.
In the weeks leading up to the race, I had some health issues as I am somewhat allergic to the Spring and got an infection competing in the Rev3 Quassy Olympic 3 weeks prior to this race. Additionally, I created a little bit of drama for myself by doubting my race selection after talking to some fellow EN'ers at the American Zofingen in New Paltz. In the end, I decided to roll with my original plan because I am an active duty Naval Officer and there is a lot of risk trying to do a different race because of the volatility in my schedule. Plus, I am fairly self-motivated, so a large number of competitors and crowd support shouldn't impact me as much. I was pleasantly surprised by how nice and accessible the race director and all of the HITS employees were (more on the volunteers later).
Race week:
I couldn't get the recommended amount of time off, meaning we left Mystic for Hague on Thursday instead of Wednesday, so my Race Course Recon workouts were not on the race course. I thought I had done a good job of simulating the bike and run course elevation profiles in Mystic, but I focused more on the total climbing than the specific length of some of the hills. That proved to be a bigger deal on the run than the bike. The location of the race is Hague, NY on beautiful Lake George. My girlfriend got us a room at the Trout House, which is conveniently located less than a quarter of a mile from the race site. It was very convenient and right on the water. We literally walked back and forth from the room to both packet pickup and race day. The rooms leave something to be desired in the realm of contemporary amenities, i.e., they still have CRT televisions and window air conditioning units, but it does offer a private beach, any possible lawn game you could imagine (beach volleyball, horseshoes, bags/cornhole, etc), and paddle boat or kayak use all for no additional fee. Here is what it looked like from the front yard:
We arrived late on Thursday after hitting some traffic and stopping for dinner in Saratoga Springs. If you're approaching from the East, I highly recommend checking it out. We woke up Friday morning and slept in as bet we could as recommended by the training plan. I think I made it to 7:30. My girlfriend was only doing the Half, so she got up and did her workout. Once she got back, at about 9:30, we headed to Ticonderoga, which is about 10 miles down 9N from Hague, to get some breakfast at the Hot Biscuit. The food definitely met the requirements of eating a large breakfast and was delicious.
After breakfast, we decided to do some course recon in the car, so we headed up the first "hill" out of the transition that was reported to be about 5 miles long. The last part was accurate, but I am not sure I would call it a hill. My ears popped twice on the drive up the first "hill." The pavement was good and there was a decent shoulder on this first part as well, though I was mentally preparing myself for the next day to not get excited as there are a lot of false tops and winding turns that mislead you into thinking you have made it to the top. After the first hill, there is an almost equal length downhill indicating that I was going to have to effectively bike this monster at the beginning and end of the 112 mile bike. We decided to only bike the half course and there really was anything that looked too scary beyond the first hill, though I did notice that the pavement got a little rougher near the half turnaround. To be clear, both the half and full distance courses are out and back courses that ride the entire way on the same road. I would regret not reconning the entire full course the next day as it introduced a significant amount of doubt in my mind that I would be able to make it to the turn around.
Having completed the bike course recon, we decided we had seen enough of the run course the previous day because we came in on 9N, where the run course is. The run course is an out and back for the half and a twice out and back for the full. What we did not know at the time was that the run course would take us off 9N for two small jaunts that paralleled 9N and provided shade and beautiful views of some of the private communities on Lake George.
By that time, it was about time for lunch and the first athlete meeting at 3:00, so we grabbed sandwiches from Hague Market and went to the meeting. The meeting was led by Mark, the race director, and covered the normal things including locations of aid stations and USAT rules. Nothing exciting here except that he was very interested in introducing himself to as many people as he could and I honestly believe he was trying to learn everyone's name. From there, we checked in our bikes and headed back to the room, all on foot as previously mentioned.
After laying around and getting all the last minute prep for water bottles, race tats, etc, we headed to dinner in downtown Hague at the Firehouse Restaurant. I use the term downtown loosely as it not only lacks a stoplight, but apparently didn't even meet the minimum requirements for a stop sign as the main intersection only warranted a yield sign. The food was great and surprisingly for such a small community, offered some items bordering on fine dining and a plentiful craft beer selection. I was hoping to take full advantage of it the next day after the race. Foolish. I ate a small amount of mac and cheese as recommended by the nutrition plan again.
Race Day:
I got up at 2:00 and ate 2 stinger waffles and did the same at 4:00 in accordance with the meal plan. The sleep that night was not bad, but it was not continuous by any means. A bit of it had to do with the amount of hydrating I had done the day before requiring a few extra bathroom trips in the night. With our bags packed, we headed over to the race site on foot at 5:50. When we got there, it was the usual pre-race buzz in the transition area. I heard some interesting requests from athletes to the HITS employees on different items they forgot and everyone seemed to be able to be accommodated, which seemed nice. The group was small. At the race meeting, we were told there were 40 entrants and I didn't count, but by the end results, only 21 finished. There are not any DNF's listed in the results, and I know there were at least some, so it is possible that there were that many entered and they just did not report the DNF's. The half distance had a significantly larger crowd at somewhere around 120-130 people. The space in the transition area was plentiful, bordering on immense. The bike racks were 2' x 2' boxes that alternated with every other box having two slits in it to constrain the front wheel of your bike and next to the boxes without slits was a stool with your name and race number on it. Yes, there was a stool for every competitor. I set up all my gear. Nothing significantly different than I imagine most people do, though I will say I take an aggressive approach to transitions, so I had my shoes clipped in already. Here is a picture of the transition area setup:
With everything set out, I put on my wetsuit and headed for the water. Because of the small size of the half and full races, it was a single wave, in water start at 7:00.
Swim:
The swim course was originally billed as a two triangular loop course for the full distance and a single loop for the half. However, on race day, they called an audible and had a "modified rectangle" loop course as defined by the race director. The water was reported to be 67 degrees. I was wearing a wetsuit for the second race in my life, the first being the previous race at Quassy. The reason I had chosen to brave the cold so many times before was my background is in swimming and I thought the benefit gained was negated by the time lost in transition. After a particularly cold race in early May in New Jersey, I erred on the side of caution at Quassy and realized that a wetsuit for me is the equivalent of our strange yellow sun on Superman. In all fairness, I swam competitively at every level from summer league to NCAA's, so I am usually near the front of the pack on the swim, but the two times I have worn a wetsuit, I have destroyed the field. My run and bike have been so far behind my swim that I skipped a lot of the swimming workouts in favor of extra runs. Although the race director told us it was a rectangular loop, I still turned left a buoy early and had to get redirected by a kayaker about 50 yards off line. Even with that mistake, I managed a 55:59 by the official race results. I think they had the transition mat set up to trigger on your chip a little earlier than I hit my watch. Here is what I got:
T1:
They had volunteers available for wetsuit stripping, but the time I had used it before, I had no issues getting it off without them, so I bypassed them and headed to my bike. The announcer was telling the crowd everything I had put in my athlete profile while I changed and he asked if I had done a HITS tri before. When I told him it was my first full with HITS and ever, he announced it and got a fun response from the spectators. After putting on my jersey full of gels and helmet, I headed out to bike mount area with my bike and shoes attached to it. Time in T1 was 1:44. I probably should have been faster, but I was kind of yucking it up with the volunteers in there. This also caused me to forget to hit the transition button again until I was on the bike in the climb a few minutes later.
Bike:
As I mentioned before, the course opens with a 5 mile, 1700 foot climb. I had made a conscious decision the day before to check my ego at the door and go straight to the small chainring and manage the climb from there. The nice part about the single wave start was that I was already catching the weaker swimmers from the half distance and got a sense of accomplishment from passing them on the way up. I was drinking water regularly from the start and decided to wait until the top to start drinking the calories I had in my bottle. I used Perpetuem from Hammer Nutrition to make two 2 hour bottles and a 1 hour bottle to drink as I continuously refilled my fuselage on my Shiv with water at all the Aid stations. I also supplemented more calories and caffeine using roactane gels every 45 minutes. It took me a little over 28 minutes to get to the top of the "hill" and I took a deep breath, went back to my big chainring and started the downhill. I can honestly say, that is the best downhill I have ever done. It was straight, on smooth pavement and required almost zero pedaling for nearly 5 miles. To compare those 5 mile splits, uphill 27:24, average speed 10.9 mph; downhill 9:53, average speed 30.3 mph.
By the end of the hill, I had drank all the water in my fuselage just in time for the first aid station at 12.4 miles. I grabbed a bottle of water as I pedaled through maintaining pretty good speed except for narrowly dodging one of the weaker half bikers who had stopped right by the volunteers to apparently apply sunscreen an hour into his race. I should mention that the aid stations had tons of goodies that I chose to make no use of, especially on the run course. On the bike course, they had the usual water and heed plus sunscreen, vaseline, hammer gels, and endurolytes. The next 15 miles of the course is flat and fast rising only 100 feet over that stretch. At that point, I started seeing the half athletes on their way back after they had completed their turnaround led by a motorcycle. I had a brief moment of vanity to think that if I could hold the lead through the turnaround that I would have a motorcycle in front of me, which passed quickly as I saw another hill with patchy pavement.
There is a small climb on rougher pavement approaching the half turnaround. As I approached the aid station at the half turnaround, the lack of volunteers and poor level of knowledge of the volunteers caused me to not get any water at the aid station. The volunteer seemed confused that I was doing a full distance triathlon and was the only one there to hand out water and he was occupied with one of the half-ere anyways. I kept going and about a quarter of a mile later, hit a huge bump on the rough pavement and popped one of my two hour bottles out of the cage behind my seat. I have had similar issues on my training rides with little success rectifying the situation, so I quickly stopped, turned around and retrieved it. Back making forward progress, I began to climb again.
This is where I wish I had done recon of the entire full bike course instead of just the half to give myself more confidence in my ability to finish it. After the half turnaround, there is a 10 mile steady 1000 foot climb that had me wondering if I would ever make it to the turnaround. Additionally, despite being out of water, I had my first inclination of needing to pee. My girlfriend has quoted several different race reports to me about needing to pee x times on the bike if you are consuming y ounces of fluids etc, but this was the first time I had been confronted with a need while I was on the bike in a race and during training because on all my race rehearsals, I had been able to stop and reload my water bottles while conveniently using the bathroom. Since I was still in the lead, I decided to try my professional triathlete skills peeing on the bike. It was surprisingly easier to unlearn all those instincts I have been practicing since age 3, but I lacked the foresight to remove my water bottle from the cage below me. An unfortunate casualty of my first attempt at triathlon professionalism. I swapped it with the other 2 hour bottle from behind me and kept going resolving myself to rinse it off with the remaining water in the water bottle from the next aid station that I was rapidly approaching at mile 45. There was a lack of signage from the half turnaround until I saw the 70 mile sign on the other side of the road, very quickly followed by an aid station ahead sign on my side of the road. Applying the lessons I had learned from the previous aid station, as soon as I could see a table, I started yelling water at the top of my lungs to get the attention of the volunteer. I was right and he quickly ran out of his car and to the table. Success! I started drinking water again.
At this point, it was a sort of double lift in that there was a solid downhill until a right turn with about 3 miles to the turnaround. A much needed respite even though I was tracking very nicely with my planned heart rate high in Zone 2. I needed a mental break. After the turnaround, I looked at my watch to get a feel for how close the next competitor was and I was shocked to see I was almost 5 miles ahead meaning I was actually farther ahead than when I got out of the water. Like I said, I am used to being in th front after swimming, but that usually gives way to faster cyclists before too long. Then, I thought, maybe he was a slow swimmer and was still reeling me in.
Sadly, my dreams of being that awesome dude with a motorcycle in front of him had not come true as they did not have one for the full distance. A fact that would prove to be a slight safety risk later. Knowing all that lay ahead, my confidence was much greater especially given he fact that there were more climbs on the way out than the way home. My average speed started coming up and after rounding a corner, I saw a Jeep with the hatchback open and a cameraman in the back. I am about to be famous for leading a race of 40 people! OK, not famous, but I was getting kind of loopy after being on the bike for almost 4 hours and I needed something to stay motivated. So, maybe being the star of a youtube video that will get 50 views was all I needed to keep going. The camera guys were cool and said I was looking strong. After a bunch of passes, I thought they had gone back to the next guy and started down a rough pavement downhill only to hit another huge bump and bounce my other 2 hour bottle out of the cage. Because of the magnitude of the downhill, I was going about 35 mph and would have had to ride a decent distance uphill after stopping to get it. I decided to keep going despite a lot of reservations and started planning out how I was going to get more calories from gels at the aid stations and how that would hurt my time. I was bummed and a little pissed right about the time the Jeep pulled up next to me and rolled down his window with my water bottle in sight. He asked if I wanted it and I answered yes, so they sped ahead and he passed it to me, the same way an aid station would. Jackpot! Back in the game again.
At this point, I started getting to the higher number mile signs and it actually seemed like there was a chance that the bike could end this century and even more exciting, that I would still be in the lead. I was able to successfully employ my early and often yelling method at the aid stations, but the same could not be said for some of the intersections. On at least two occasions, the local sheriff's department had no idea I was coming (if only there'd been a motorcycle), so I had to blow through busy intersections while cars were stopped at red lights. I also had an interaction with a gentleman driving a truck who apparently thought bikes are for sidewalks and tried to run me off the road. Fortunately, I survived and had no issues getting back to the hill where it all started. I kept telling myself that it was shorter on the way home, which technically is true, but the reason it is shorter is because it is much more persistent in its incline. There were a couple of moments where I was in the absolutely lowest gear where I wasn't sure I could pedal hard enough to keep from falling over. Then, without warning, it leveled out and I was on my way downhill on the twists and turns toward the bike to run transition. Though there was no auto lap trigger on that last hill, my speed never dropped below 30 mph and went as high as 40 mph. It was a welcomed break heading into transition.
Here is what the final stats for the bike looked like, keeping in mind that I screwed up the distance and averages a little by pressing the lap button a little late. I am confident the actual distance is 112 miles. The official bike split was 5:32:21.
T2: Once again, the announcer was calling out my name and splits. One of the volunteers came over to check on me and actually helped me reapply some sunscreen to my shoulders. I threw on my shoes, strapped on a fuel belt loaded with two small bottles of a Perpetuem mix and Powerbar blasts, and put on a small hand water bottle with the same mix and blasts in it before turning to head out. I saw the camera guy in the transition and shook his hand to thank him for bringing me back my fuel bottle on the bike. I did neglect to tell him I had peed on it earlier though. Sorry brother. Total time in transition was 1:39.
Run: On my way out, someone did mention to me that I was way in the lead, and I calmly responded, yeah, but I blow up on the run all the time. This fact is actually not true this season, but the only half I have done, which was at the end of last season, I was doing pretty well through the first two legs until I got out on the run. Nonetheless, I was fearful that I could blow it here. I started running and my game plan was to go 9:00 minute miles for the first hour and then try to pick it up from there to somewhere around 8:30. The hills on this running course are more than I routinely take on at home. My plan for the hills was to pick an object on the hill and run to it, then walk aggressively up the hill to a point before resuming a trot. I had used this method with good results on the American Zofingen a month earlier. On the way out, there are two decent hills before you get to the first exit from 9N to run on a dirt trail that takes you closer to the lakefront. The area is covered and cooler which I appreciated as the temperature was rising to about 80 degrees as it approached 2 pm. Halfway down this trail is the two mile marker. My first two miles were 8:55 and 8:51 respectively with an average HR near 140. At this point, I was feeling as good as can be expected for starting a marathon after 6 and a half hours of strenuous activity. I kept sipping my mix and eating two blasts every 2 miles the way I had practiced in training.
There was a brief return to 9N before turning left again and heading toward Silver Bay down a pretty steep downhill. The aid stations were pretty regular at each mile to mile and a half. The second one occurred right before the turn to Silver Bay and the volunteer was sitting in his car and not coming out unless called. This is where I believe the race could have been improved a bit. Like I said before, the volunteers have to have some understanding of where the athletes are mentally. By the end of the race, I kind of wanted to stab this guy because I would have to pass him 3 more times as I became more dependent on the aid stations. The run by Silver Bay was awesome, but anything but flat. I was beginning to get a little worried for how much I was going to be going up and down and I could already feel the developing blisters on the balls of my feet. Not a pleasant feeling. Additionally, although it was partially a coincidence for this particular race day, there was a wedding being set up on Silver Bay that would eventually turn into a bit of foot traffic as the day progressed. I only mention this because I am sure this is a popular spot for events like this and there will likely be other weddings on a Saturday in late June in this particular location.
The return to 9N is greeted by the mile 5 sign and I was still running strong. My average mile pace was somewhere in the low 8:50's. A few more hills later I passed the mile 6 sign and started up a hill that had a Scenic View 1/4 mile sign on it. To my surprise, the Scenic spot was the turnaround. In other words, I turned around at about 6.2 miles and the marathon course was going to be over a mile short. I found some solace in that and continued on after looking at my watch to see how many minutes ahead I was. On the way back, I kept expecting to turn a corner or clear a hill and see the next guy, but I didn't. Not until it had been 17 minutes and 2 miles since I turned around. I was 4 miles in the lead! I would have been more excited if the guy I saw running in the other direction had not been a modern day incarnation of Icarus. The dude had a turtle shell for a stomach and looked like a Ken doll. I started doing the math in my head. 17 miles left and he has to go 21 miles in that time. My splits were still looking good, but I did not feel as good on any of them. The mix in my water bottle was getting chalkier and chalkier and each blast gave me more and more heartburn. At the last aid station before the half way point, I decided to start mixing water in with the mix to water it down. It helped a little, but it also got a little on my face which promptly dripped the concentrated salt deposits on my face into my eyes and I ran blind for nearly a quarter mile. That burned similar to what I imagine the sun feels like. I just kept blinking until I could see something.
At the half turnaround, I glanced at my watch and noticed I was nearly on pace for my goal. 1:52 for the 12.8. Sure it wasn't a real half marathon, but I was thinking the hills could count for some extra distance. Nonetheless, I rounded the corner and handed my fuel belt to my girlfriend because I was confident that I should only drink water from here on out and I had enough blasts in my hand bottle to last the rest of the race. Sadly, in my current state of emotions, I was expecting a bigger lift from removing the dead weight, but it made almost no difference. This leg of the race was by far the most excruciating.
I saw Ken running in the other direction a mere 1.5 miles down the road. He had closed the gap another mile. If I could just keep up my pace from the first half, I would have him by a mile at the end. Too bad for me, that pace was no longer achievable. My mile splits ceased being less than 9:00 and then they were no longer less than 10:00. During the hilly sessions, I threw in some slower than 12:00 miles for good measure. I was no longer only walking on steep uphills. It was now uphills and whenever I felt like it. During some of the downhills I felt minor twinges in my hamstrings and on one I even felt a little like I might pull my groin. I was worried that My girlfriend would be at the turn around and I would simply get in the car and call it a day instead of continuing. I was firmly in the suck and I didn't think I could make it out of it. Then, I saw the mile 6 marker again. Knowing that I could walk it from here and still beat the third place guy, I turned around and prayed for a 2 mile lead. But there goes Ken, hopping and skipping along less than a mile down the road.
At this time, the camera guy was back and filming. I noticed he kept parking at the top of the hills and filming. I was thinking, I know there's not a great chance of me winning this, but if I do, he's going to have a ton of footage of me walking and that's kind of weird. it was only after I was properly fed and my brain was working again that I figured out he wanted footage of me walking because the guy behind me was certainly going to catch me. By this point, the longest I could run consecutively was a little over a quarter of a mile regardless of the elevation change. It wasn't heart rate related either. My heart rate was staying steady between 155 and 140. I just couldn't get my legs to go.
Finally, I saw the camera guy drive pretty far ahead and run to the other side of the road with his camera. Glancing over my shoulder, I realized he was going for the kill shot where Ken passed me at the mile 12 marker sign. Yes, you read that right. I got passed with 1 mile to go. Ken shook my hand as he trotted by barely winded and the blow up was complete. I didn't really care. By that point, I was happy to be in the neighborhood of my goal. I wish I could tell you that I pulled it together and ran it in from there, but I can't. I had to continue my painful walk/run routine for another 10 minutes.
In the end, the official run time was 4:10:51 and my overall time was 10:42:37. I was happy with it, though I can't help but wonder where I went wrong on the run. I don't particularly think it was nutrition though I did have cramping problems if I wasn't careful after the race. All in all, I was very pleased with how I did and am hopeful I can figure out another spot where I can train consistently and go after it again in the near future. Here is the data from my watch on the run keeping in mind that once again, I forgot to press the button:
And here is me sitting at the first aid tent getting my blisters looked at:
Last thing, they do a cool job with the awards ceremony the day after. The first place winners get a Zoot wetsuit, second place gets a pair of Rudy Project sunglasses and third place got wireless headphones, plus we all got etra HITS stuff. Here is a picture of the awards ceremony. Ken is in the middle and I am on the right. I tried to get him to take his shirt off so everyone would know what I was up against, but I am not sure he got it.
Comments
p.s. they must give pretty insane swimming lessons in the Navy...56-minute swim...whoa...I can only imagine what the training looks like...
Joe - not bad for a first IM … *and* you left yourself room for improvement. "It's lonely at the top", eh?
Since the usual rule of thumb for translating HIM to IM timers is double it and add an hour, you had a much better result in this race than your HIM would portend.
Your troubles on the second half of the run are no mystery to ENers … the problem is almost always either too hard on the bike in the first couple of hours, and/or poor nutrition Since your nutrition seems to have been fairly good, it might pay to take a very close look at how you were doing up that first long climb. This is the place where a power meter makes all the difference. the good news is, if you want to keep having a go at IM distance races, you've got the tools to have a lot of success: a killer swim, intrepid on the bike, and willingness to do more work on your run. Just get a PM for the next one.
Congratulations on a great race Joe!
Kim, not sure what's next. I am toying with the idea of doing the Full Rev at Cedar Point, but I'd be rolling solo and there are still some threats to that race in terms of me going to sea, so I'd hate to put all the effort and repeat training in only to find out I was going to sea instead of racing.
Al, thanks for the insight. I agree that I probably put too much into the beginning of the bike, but I don't think I could have backed off too much on that hill. That is what is driving me to want to do another race right away. Maybe, one without an enormous 5 mile climb to start the 112 mile bike. I have also considered the PM. It's a big investment, which would definitely be worth it in the long run, but I will probably only be able to train like I am for another 5 months before I head back to a sea duty that has me working over 60 hours a week. That said, I am still thinking about it haha. Triathlon is an addictive and expensive sport.