AT ITU LC WC RR
“90 seconds!” It was easy to pick Cody out of the crowd as I rounded the corner coming out of the stadium midway through my third of four laps. He’s 6’2”, and had the cacophonous goat bell I’d picked up in Mustang (Tibetan Nepal) to clang at races just like this one, the 2019 International Triathlon Long Distance World Championships in Pontevedcra, Spain.
“Huh?” I hollered back.
“90 seconds to second place!” he smiled out at me.
At this point, I was feeling good - great, actually. Ever since I blew up my right knee weight lifting, and then skiing, during the winter of 2018, I’ve been worried about sustaining a run for three or more hours. While I had plodded through Ironman Arizona six months earlier, it had not been with the punch, verve, and confidence I wanted to show this year, my first in 70-74 age group races. My longest training run was two hours, 12 miles, and my usual pace was 9:30-10:30 minutes a mile, and that without a swim or bike ride immediately prior.
We had started our day in the tidal estuary of a river flowing down from the Galician mountains to the Northeast. The day before, at the athletes’ briefing, ITU staff warned they might have to shorten the swim from 3000 to 1500 meters. Apparently a scary number of competitors had to be “evacuated” during the 1000 meter aquathlon swim leg, probably with hypothermia from the 13.8 C temps (56 F). With 10 times the number of competitors scheduled for our race (including the concurrent Aquabike World Championships), there truly were safety concerns if hundreds of athletes might potentially be in trouble; the water safety staff was really not prepared for that.
So when race day dawned with the brackish water reading 14.1 C (57 F), I found myself clawing through a 44 minute swim against the current, rather than the 65’ I had been anticipating. While I didn’t freeze, I did shiver the entire 10 minutes I spent in T1. I know that sounds slow, but I had both the best overall and T1 times in my AG, despite spending a minute in the toilet.
The bike course made no compromises to the unprepared. The only flat part along the 37 km route, done 3 times total, was several preliminary admin miles through an industrial park across the river from T1. This involved multiple turns and road humps, slowing us down during one of our few chances for sustained speed. Half km uphill along a rutty concrete freeway, and then onto a steep 15% ramp for a couple hundred meters. Turn around, back down to the freeway. From there, we faced a prolonged climb from sea level to 230 meters (700’) altitude. A couple of km of more rolling, but upward terrain, and another sharp right turn onto the crux of the course.
These ten kilometers featured breathtaking scenery, a winding smooth asphalt surface, and continued relentless up (for the first 2.5 km), and down (the next 2.5 km), back up and down again and out on the main road. Where we faced one more done/up combo, FINALLY meeting up with 8-9 km of speedy downhill back into town. At least that was at the end, so getting ready for the run was a bit easier.
My “plan” was to treat the bike ride as an event, rather than a race, seeking to finish it with minimal damage to my sense of perceived exertion, and to make that effort level seem the same as an Ironman. Here’s a telling comparison between IM AZ and ITU LC WC, with distance, elevation, TSS, KJ, NP, VI, time
IM AZ 180 2000 235 2800 133 1.02 5:58
ITU LC WC 113 5300 200 1837 133 1.30 4:46
Who knows if I could have gone harder? I’m sure I could have, but there is always the question, at what cost. We’d learn whether I’d been too conservative very shortly, on the run.
While the bike had been cool (overnight temp was 9 C/48 F), the sun (“high noon” is actually about 1:45 PM here, just about when I got off the bike) was blazing by the time I cinched up my Nike VaporFly 4% magic shoes. This being a World Championship, the aid stations were well-stocked, and never ran out. Every mile I was able to grab a 16 oz water bottle, take a swig, and pour the rest over my head and back. In addition, I could choose from 226ER “iso” drink, or Coke, which I started slamming about 2/3rds of the way through. So despite the mid-70s temps under cloudless skies, I did not feel any heat, and actually kept the front of my jersey zipped most of the way up.
At the precise point Cody had shouted out my race status, I was gaining speed. I’d just passed another American near my age (Bob Rossbach, 68), who was jogging along, chatting with a younger female USA racer. I patted him on the back as I went by. He said, “Keep it up!”. I raised both arms in an exaggerated shrug, hollering back “I feel great!”.
And I did feel good, energized inside by the rambunctious alter ego inside me, who drives the pace on race day. He’d kept us in control throughout the bike, where my mantra was: “Make this an event, not a race; make it feel like an Ironman, not a half.”
With the frequent out and backs on the meandering 4.6 mile course, I had seen at least two others in my age group who seemed to be ahead of me; it was, of course, hard to tell, as I didn’t know which lap they were on. But I assumed I was either third or fourth, and knew I was gaining on at least one, if not both of the ones I’d seen. The guy directly in front of me, Heinz Wolf, from Switzerland, was a slow swimmer - I’d left T1 8 minutes ahead of him - but a phenomenal biker. He passed me midway through the first lap, and left T2 50 minutes ahead of me. Adding to the work I had ahead, he was the returning champion in this age group.
I knew I was gaining on him as we entered the trickiest section of the run course. The first three miles or so were very flat. Out of transition, across the river, and around a semi-shaded island, then along a riverside out and back, up a very slight rise into the local stadium (which also served as transition area and finish line) for a quarter lap around the curve. Mile 4 then circuited through the old town, with multiple turns amongst the narrow alleys lined by 18th and 19th century 4-5 story buildings. The only hill on the course took us through this warren to a medieval church, where we 180’d back down to the river and the final half mile into the stadium again.
I caught Heinz just as we began the third climb up. I touched him on his right shoulder as I passed by muttering, “Sorry, Heinz”, and for some reason, I upped the pace. I guess that evil race manager inside me felt I had enough reserve to handle a surge here, and still finish the final lap with something left in the tank. Maybe he thought I could lose Heinz in the maze we traveled up to and round the church. For whatever reason, I kept the hammer on far longer than I needed.
In the five miles (a little over one lap) before I saw Cody, I was averaging 9:25 min/mile, with my HR having risen from the low 120s at the start to the low 130s (my power meter gave out a couple of miles earlier). I was pretty sure I could hold that pace/effort level for the remainder of the run. But then, the next two miles were 9:08/138 (uphill!) and 8:52/137.
Sure, I passed Heinz, but at what cost? I soon found out: next mile, 9:35/125. OK, good enough, But the following two were: 10:30/122, 10:31/121. OK, still good enough, but not pretty. I began to alternate running with a jiggery “angry man walk”, and extend the aid station walks to their full width, first volunteer to last garbage can. And the last 1.6 miles were downright embarrassing. Not only did I go 11:53/121 and 12:49 pace/121 HR, but I was reduced to the “old man shuffle”.
You’ve seen this on the Kona broadcasts. They find some really old guys, and remark about how determined they are. On screen they appear to be bent over at the waist, or tilted to one side, feet still moving briskly, but with mincing steps covering very little ground. Not really “running”. On their faces, that “thousand yard stare” of the defeated who refuse to quit. That was me, in that final 25 minutes.
It was a bit scary. People kept asking me if I were OK, culminating with the Team USA manager who’d been encouraging me at the end of each lap, remarking how good I looked. Not this time. His face looked almost frightened. I kept moving, tried to appear cheery, and reassured him I would make it.
Which I did through to the finish line. Then, I could not move another step. One of those “gun to the head” moments. Put a gun to my head, tell me to walk, and I couldn’t. Down into a little wheel chair they lowered me, and into the med tent.
No, not the Med Tent! Been there, done that, don’t want to waste my time in it, especially with my rudimentary Spanish. Luckily, Cody had found his way to the tent entrance, and I managed to convince the staff that he would take good care of me. Off we shuffled to the recovery area for my dry clothes, some food, and a bit of space.
My right knee had become pretty much non-functional, swollen to twice the size of the left, and I had three toes with blood blisters coming up from the nail beds. I sent Cody off to retrieve my stuff from transition, head over to Tri-Bike Transport, and return to help me back up the 1/2 mile to our hotel.
I did NOT want to go to the awards ceremony. The walk 12/2 mile uphill to our hotel was torture, and I didn’t see how I could manage to make the next 1/2 mile to the plaza, much less walk up onto a podium. But Cody had already called my wife Cheryl, who insisted, “It’s the World Championships, you HAVE to go.” I learned long ago not to fight a united front of two other nuclear family members, so I let Cody drag me there. I am glad I got to experience that. I’ve been on more than a few podiums, including a second ce plact the Xterra Worlds and seven IM AG wins, but this was no doubt the most exhilarating. It helped me turn the corner from, “Well, I guess that’s the end of my long-distance career” to “OK, I’ll see if I can make it to Boulder in five weeks.” Applause while holding your country’s flag overhead will do that...
Comments
I say again. 2nd in the World 😀. Passing Heinz explains what I was seeing on your Strava file. Just can’t take the racer out of you. Sorry to hear the cost you paid on your knee. Hope it’s not longer term new damage and something you can recover from for Ironman Boulder. Congratulations
Great race and report Al! Congrats
Just fantastic, Al.
Congratulations @Al Truscott !
Love the details in the race report and the focus on HR management during the run leg. Very smart racing indeed!
Way to drive that race vehicle to second place among the best in the word!
SS
Favorite line in this report "sorry Heinz" 😁 .
What's harder, to chase or be chased?
What do you think causes the body to do that at the end of the run? Electrolyte imbalance? Muscle fatigue? I've read both.
Congratulations @Al Truscott
Congratulations @Al Truscott !
2nd in the world, that is fantastic. I can't wait to see you race an IM this fall in Arizona.
congrats obi wan. best of luck with the knee.
Having been in this position more times than I can count, I know that being chased after taking the lead is harder than chasing to get the lead. I still have trouble, apparently, controlling my effort after I pass somebody. The last thing I want is to be re-passed, and I think I work harder than I should/need to. Presumably, if someone is passed in the late stages of a long-distance tri run, they are unable to go any faster, but my first experience with that, with a mile to go in AZ, when I passed a guy walking, I ended up only beating him by 8 seconds despite going all out nearly to black-out the rest of the way. We were fighting for a Kona spot, and he still hasn;t spoken to me...
Congrats Al, you are a true inspiration. Well done and speedy recovery.
you never stop amazing & Inspiring, heal up, you have some big camps coming & IM Boulder!
Congratulations Al. Thanks for the race story and what a great video. I could feel your sense of pride and accomplishment. So cool. I'm sure the knee wants to race as bad as you do, nothing a little Normatec can't fix! Looking forward to your camp. I feel that you are just getting started on your goal this year!
Great race @Al Truscott ! We were tracking you all day. I hope the knee heals quick, and I look forward to seeing you in AZ!
Very inspirational and very cool representing the USA. 2nd in the World! Wow! Enjoyed your race report. You finished the race exactly how it should be done...without a drop left in the tank. Well done! Congratulations!!
What a great read! Thanks for sharing and congrats on wonderful race!