4th Place Ironman St. George

It has been a little over two weeks since I put myself through the most grueling Ironman on the circuit for the second time in two years. I had hopes of getting this blog up immediately after the race, but I've been enjoying some slow and low days of recovery, clearing my mind of the triathlon world a little before beginning my next build.

St. George holds a special place in my heart. I first spent time there as a member of the University of Montana triathlon team in 2004, doing a spring training camp before our National Championship race in Lake Havasu that spring. We came back again in 2006, and then I returned last year to train on the course and race in early May. It's a fantastic venue with amazing community support, and I am guessing that it may be the most honest Ironman on the circuit, with incredibly challenging bike and run courses. There is nowhere to hide in this race... the strongest athlete wins.

My goal for the race was to win, and I believed it was possible after a hard-earned second place in 2010. My spring training was not perfect, but it was very good, and I toed the line with confidence that I could execute a race capable of taking the top spot.

The swim started out like any other, with the top swimmers pushing hard in the opening meters. I gave everything to find some good feet early, but instead found myself popped and leading a small chase pack with Maik Twelsiek and another athlete in tow. Around the midway point, I surrendered lead duties to Maik and prepared for a very hard bike...

I got out of transition ahead of Maiky, pushing hard to close the 2+min. gap to the leaders, and we switch hit the pacing duties until he pulled away around mile 30 or 35. We were steadily gaining time on Ambrose and Hecht, and Maik eventually made it up and through them, but I could not match his power on the hills of the first lap. With everyone fearing the eventual appearance of Weiss, we all continued to hammer the pace. At mile 37 or so, I passed TJ Tollakson, and rode alone the rest of the day. It was a great test of solo riding, and I am happy to report that I was able to maintain good power for the duration.

After passing Ambrose only a couple miles from T2, I transitioned fast and hit the marathon course with a vengeance. My Dad was on course yelling splits, and I dug deep feeling that I could close the 3 minute gap to the lead with a great run. I felt smooth climbing the hills, and I could see Hecht after a few miles, closing the gap from 3 min. to 2:40, 2:20, and eventually down to 1:20 near the halfway point. He was running the downhills exceptionally well, and I was pulling time back on the uphills, but as I headed out between miles 13 and 14, my 1:26 half split caught up to me quickly, and I had to slow for aid. The next 10 miles were my darkest racing moments in recent memory, going way inside my mind to battle the demons and keep moving forward. TJ was closing hard and made his pass for 3rd around mile 22, but I was too empty at that point, and he was running well. With only a couple miles to go, 5th was closing hard, and I made the decision that I would not give up the place I had worked so hard for all day... I put the head down, and clicked out two downhill miles at 5:50, letting the legs fly wildly on the verge of buckling. Crossing the line brought the usual surge of emotion, mostly happiness for having finished, and to have shaved nearly 11 minutes off my time from the year before on a day that saw much harder conditions. I'm still blown away by Hecht's gutsy performance for his first Ironman victory, and the class he showed afterwards.

Now, with the dust settled, I look back on another memorable experience in St. George with an eagerness to return in 2012 and take the win. I could not have put together the race I did without the fantastic support I enjoy, and I must thank my family, Lynne and Bill Cobb who graciously hosted us for the long weekend, Brian Mueller for providing the perfect spring training arrangement in Tucson, and my incredible sponsors: Zoot, Specialized, Clif, Zipp/SRAM, FuelBelt, TriBike Transport, and Wattie Ink.

Next up for me will be Boise 70.3, where I will look to improve on last year's 2nd place at one of my favorite races. Thanks for reading, and enjoy the summer!

Oceanside 70.3

Oceanside is one of the classic early season races, and usually boasts a stellar field. This year was no different. With a projected start list of 68 male pros, of which probably 8-10 were capable of winning, it was a deeply talented group. I came into the race looking for a solid training day with eyes on Ironman St. George in a few weeks, and I certainly got that.

The swim was a bit chaotic with so many male pros, and I never quite found my rhythm. I got out clean and tried to stay focused on finding good feet, but I just felt like I was going backwards from the beginning. Still, I came out around some other strong cyclists and went to work on my newly dialed Shiv rocketship. Thanks to Joe, Myron, and Jeff at the Specialized truck, the steed was ready to let out of its cage...

Sadly, I couldn't match the bike's enthusiasm, and the legs just weren't snappy enough to be competitive with the strong group of athletes on the back half of the ride. Instead of things getting strung out in the first half of the race, the pack only seemed to grow larger, and although most athletes maintained just the legal distance, the riding was very hard. Between miles 30-35 the group faced a stiff headwind and a series of rollers, and right as the catch was made on the leaders, I fell off the pace. I simply felt flat and did not have the power to match the other athletes in that moment. Coming off the bike several minutes down was a little demoralizing, but I kept perspective and settled into a good pace on the run. By the second lap I was feeling much better, and continued to pick off athletes... I never stopped racing, and the memory of last year's sprint finish kept me on the gas until the line, where I finished in 4:07:33 in 13th. Certainly not my best effort, but a good one for early season. For reference, I had a very similar time last year and finished 7th.

I'm not going to spend a lot of time hashing out what went wrong or why I didn't achieve a result that I was more satisfied with. The fact is that I didn't race particularly well, and there were a lot of other people who did. My congratulations to everyone who took on the course, for the age-groupers who earned Kona slots, the volunteers for making the race possible, and of course to Potts and Carfrae for classy wins.

Only a few more weeks of hard work here in Tucson, and it will be back to St. George for the first Ironman of the year...

1st Place Xterra Real Granite Bay

I've raced three Xterra triathlons now, and I've managed a first place finish in each, but this last event was like no other I had done before...

After spending a few days touring around California, I headed down to Morgan Hill to pick up my brand new S-Works Epic 29er and get a little test ride before the race. It was a rainy week, and the grounds in Cali were heavily laden with water. My test ride quickly became a road ride after I discovered how saturated the trails were... even so, the high performance aspects of the new bike were evident and my confidence was immediately bolstered for the race.

A great evening dealer visit at Kinetic Cycles in nearby Elk Grove got everyone excited for a crazy day in Granite Bay, and we all powered down coffee and rallied out to the race venue.

After getting our bikes and transitions all dialed, we hesitantly donned our wetsuits and made our way down to the swim start. I've done a few cold swims in my day, but this might have taken the cake. Water temps were 48 degrees, and a warm-up was impossible. When the cannon went off, it was just survival mode, and I did my best to stay calm as my body battled the freezing waters, capillary shock in the face, and shortness of breath. Fortunately, it was over quick, and even though my feet would remain numb for most of the race, I was just happy to be on the new bike, shredding trail as the lead male...

The first lap was just about trying to get a gap on my pursuers, and I managed to get out of sight within the first few miles. The course was a ton of fun, with some good sandy sections, muddy open fields, and swooping singletrack in the trees. I settled into a good rhythm and let the bike take care of the rest... Until the second lap. With a couple hundred riders beating up the soggy course, things quickly got interesting. Lots of "quicksand," mud bogs, and peanut butter corners meant that I crashed about 3 times. Fortunately, the soft ground saved my body from anything more than scratches, and I came into T2 with a few minutes lead.

I hit the first miles of the run hard, then eased back to enjoy beautiful panoramic views of the lakeside coves and forested hills. In the end, I was clear by a couple minutes over Andrew Young (new friend and Specialized dealer from New Zealand), and Jimmy Archer.

I really love racing Xterra, and I will be targeting a couple more races this year... Thanks to all the volunteers, race staff, and all my sponsors for making it a memorable day and the first victory of 2011! See you on the trails...

12th Place Abu Dhabi International Triathlon

I’m back in the States after a whirlwind trip to the United Arab Emirates, specifically Abu Dhabi, for the first real race of my season. Having never been to the UAE, I had only the stories of others as a guide, but maintained a relatively open mind about the experience. I knew that the bike leg would be long. I knew that the field was deep. I knew that it was a wealthy region undergoing tremendous growth. I knew the landscape was mostly a barren desert. The rest was left to imagination as I crossed the Atlantic on a jetstream...

Somewhat jetlagged and disoriented, I checked in the very nice race hotel, compliments of the very generous race organizers, and attempted to sleep. The pattern which would prevail for the next 3 nights emerged: Fitful, restless attempts at sleep. One hour here, 30 minutes there, and not more than about 3 or 4 hours total, and then it was light out and time to take care of pre-race duties. I did a little ocean swim in the back of the hotel, ran a quick 4 miles, and briefly spun out the legs before checking in my bike and gear bags. This was some of the fastest turnaround I had done for a race of this caliber, but I decided it was best to avoid interrupting my training too much for a race that wasn't a season goal.

Race morning came swiftly, and I enjoyed the company of a former teammate, Jessica Jacobs as we walked through the opulent grounds of the Emirates Palace to the transition and swim start area. Professionals enjoyed top-notch treatment at the event, and the bike racks were all customized with our names and nationalities. Very cool.

The swim was a two loop affair, and after a couple short delays, we were sprinting from the beach to the questionably non-wetsuit waters of the ocean. I got out okay on the inside buoy line and found a good pack early. Halfway through the first lap we were gapped from the leaders, but I stayed comfortable in the chase pack. It wasn't a great swim, but it wasn't terrible either. When I saw Llanos, McCormack, Gambles, and a few other strong riders within the first kilometers, my spirit was lifted some and I settled in for a long day in the saddle...

And when I say long day, I mean 124 miles of wind, sand, and heat. Abu Dhabi is not known for it's stunning vistas (save some dunes I discovered later), so it was a lot of miles in a moonscape setting, passing little more than highway guardrails and one stand of mangrove trees. Still, I embraced the austerity of the place as a true mental toughness test, and knuckled down. After one loop of very fast riding, our group was completely shattered. Some had dropped, others fallen off, and even a couple had made a heroic bid to get across to the leaders. I remained in a small group as we passed through the Formula 1 racing circuit and then back and forth through the desolate stretches of Emirate desert. By the last time we reached town and headed out for the final half-lap, I dropped the other riders and made a break, riding solo for about the last 30 miles. I felt surprisingly in control, and had managed to stay on top of my nutrition, but I was losing time to the lead group ahead...

Into T2 I just kept in mind that it was a very hot day and people would be slowing down. It was a bit of a mental boost knowing that I would not have to tackle a full marathon too, and I took off with the best of intentions. The first lap was a very solid effort, and then I realized that my chances of picking off in anyone in front were very unlikely, as well as being overtaken. Not proud to admit that my mind drifted a bit to complacency, and I settled into a more comfortable "maintenance" pace and tried to recoup fluid in the last miles. Coming through the finishing stretch, I was very happy to have executed a solid race from start to finish, coming 12th against a Kona-esque field. I was two spots out of the money, and pretty far back, but it was an excellent training day, and gave me a very real confidence boost that I could be competitive against such a deep field in savage conditions.

After chatting it up with the boys from Specialized afterwards, I passed out at the hotel, and then got ready for some Abu fun. My one day after the race consisted of seeing the amazing mosque, gold market, and then participating in a crazy dune bashing/camel riding/sandboarding/dinner expedition in the middle of the sandy desert with good friends.

Abu Dhabi is like no place I have ever seen, and despite harsh conditions, it was a perfect race for mental toughness, and undoubtedly provided a major fitness boost early in the year... very good feeling to have the cobwebs blown out before I undertake the more important races. I have no regrets about traveling over, and I will be back to race again next year.

Achievement, I have heard, is largely a product of steadily raising one's level of aspiration and expectation. Without a doubt this race marks one more step in the right direction.

4th Place Desert Classic Duathlon/ 2011 Kickoff

With heavy legs and a sunburned nose I jumped into the car for a quick trip north… the racing season is back, and just like last year, my first test would be the Desert Classic Duathlon in McDowell Mountain outside Phoenix. Although the miles between Tucson and Scottsdale don’t amount to much, howling winds that were pushing a major storm into the area brought traffic to a slow crawl. I had elected to put my bike in the back seat for aerodynamic/fuel-saving reasons, and it was a rather fortuitous decision since the outside of my car got a nice sandblasting…

I had planned to enjoy an evening of camping in the park, saving the need for an extra early wake-up, and taking advantage of the scenery, and relatively low-key nature of the Duathlon. Certainly not low-key in terms of talent, with the likes of Jordan Rapp, Pedro Gomes, Lewis Elliot, and Maik Twelsiek, but more mellow than Kona.

Rains poured down during packet pick-up at the host hotel and I tucked tail and bailed into a hotel room for the night. I figured with prize money on the line, I now had an incentive to pay back the credit card charge. Went through the gear on my extra bed, got some good rest, and rolled over to the new race venue in the morning to get set.

After a quick set-up in transition, I did a warm-up jog with Montana friend and fellow pro Brendan, and tried to keep the heartrate elevated for the impending sprint. We all huddled shoulder to shoulder on the start line, and took off at an unsustainable pace for the first 800m, but I found a good position near the front before the singletrack section. After a mile or so of racing, it settled down a little, and we had a group that included Rapp, White, Elliot, and myself. The course was changed this year, and it was definitely more challenging on the run portions.

Out on the bike White had put in a little gap right before and through transition, and I took off after him in 2^nd. After a few miles I was joined by Rapp and Elliot and we slowly made our way up to the lead. I was having a hard time finding a rhythm, and I kept yo-yoing off the back. Rapp took over the lead near the end of the bike, and I rolled in about 45 seconds back in 2^nd with Elliot and White in tow.

Right from the start I knew it would be damage control on the second run. The up and down of the rollers beat up my legs, and I didn’t have much speed left. I was quickly passed and fell to 4^th, keeping contact with Elliot, but not closing down the gap. We had pulled out significant time on the pursuing group over the bike leg, so I was comfortably clear in 4^th. Not exactly the spot I was hoping for, but I was happy to get paid and show that I was fit enough to temporarily do battle with some other class athletes.

Race season has commenced! Next up will be Abu Dhabi…

Almost to Mexico...

This way to sun.

The last week was spent under sunny skies in Tucson, Arizona, familiarizing my body with real training again. Not exactly "fat camp," but my first legitimate bike riding for quite a while. It was exactly what I needed to jumpstart my season after committing to race Abu Dhabi in March. With the 120 mile bike segment, I am going to need the big early season miles...

Desert skies the day after a rain.

This is the third year that I have decided to spend a good portion of winter training in Tucson, and each time I make the drive down a smile forms as I crest the final climb out of Mammoth and head down through Oracle and see the valley city open before me. The promise of outdoor swimming pools, sunny weather, good company with my homestay and friend Brian, and countless miles of open road in beautiful desert scenery lifts my spirit and prepares me for long weeks of hard workouts. I stopped on the way down to run a few miles at the Salt River canyon, and then joined Brian for an interesting evening out on the town. We had a great sushi dinner at new place downtown, and then met up with friends at one of the strangest bars. Ever. If you get a chance, have "God" give you the tour at Meet Rack... Enough said.

Meet Rack. Weird.

Day one was a nice mountain bike ride in Starr Pass with the Honeybee. Saguaro, barrel cacti, ocotillo, saguaro, palo verde, prickly pear, and host of other hearty desert flora dot the landscape. If Brian wasn't trying to turn the screws and prove that he's better at something than me, I might have had a chance to look around a little... Oh well, maybe in January.

Cacti and stuff.

Share the road.

The next few days were a nice blend of solid training, drinking beer/watching football and basketball, doing a stretch session at Yoga Oasis and catching dinner at Wilko, watching Woody Guthrie's American Song at the beautiful Temple of Music and Art venue, and waking early for some swimming at U of A's Hillenbrand Aquatic Center.

Legend.

Hillenbrand.

I had some wonderful rides, including an interesting day on the Shootout loop (Mission road) where I saw three illegal immigrants running by the road (I know because I stopped and asked). Managed a couple great rides with Chris McDonald and his training posse (Hillary Biscay, Maik Twelsiek, Sam McGlone, Marilyn McDonald), and several solo rides with just the wind and my thoughts as companions.

San Xavier Mission.

Impersonating a saguaro.

Pit stop on Ajo highway.

Historic Tucson home.

Soon, names Kitt Peak, Sonoita, Madera, Mt. Lemmon, will become regular vocabulary, utterances in dreams, weekly journeys. I head back to Tucson in January to continue the build towards a successful 2011 season. In the meantime, I will enjoy the holidays and build some reserves for the next round of flogging.

Running.

It's curious and amusing how much my perspective on running can shift when my experience becomes unstructured and without any specific ambition, save enjoying the touch of cool wind on my face, the pounding pulse of blood in my veins, and the sense of stones beneath my feet on the open trail. In these times, the mystery and intrinsic value of a bounding human body returns, and my mind is clear of time, distance, pace... I am free to just exist on the path, my mind committed to the rhythm of footfall, focused on the next spot my shoe will meet terra firma. To me, running is essential. Primal and real. It is the purest of the sports I pursue, having limited gear, no pretense, no referees.

On this day, a few hundred paces onto the dusty thoroughfare I am conscious of nothing but the sensations, the landscape unfolding before me, the slight burn in my hamstrings and quads as the body slowly warms to the experience. There is a short time when it feigns aversion, but as the lungs expand, memory and mantra take control: you have never felt worse after completing a run than you did before starting. Onward then, I pass the scrub oak, pinon pine, juniper, and occasional ponderosa, their slender arms reaching towards me and occasionally stroking my arms and legs. When one protrudes farther than the rest and scratches my skin deep enough to draw blood, I am momentarily shaken from my meditative state and curse it out loud as if it were a person with a conscious determination to assault me. I quickly forget as the trail pitches up and my stride is forced to shorten, my breathing and heartbeat lagging behind the effort but sure to hasten. I concentrate harder, determined to avoid those irritating spindly twigs, giving extra effort to keep my footing as the trail climbs up on a slick bed of fallen leaves. Fall changes the feel on the footpath. Not only do you don more clothing fending off the brisk air, but the congregation of tree litter masks the hazards, and the beauty of the warm autumn colors can distract from the immediate moment. I exaggerate my high-step to avoid some of the perceived threats and continue on the snaking trail, recovering steady breath in downhills and flats. Even though I have run this route countless times, there are always sections I forget, and I am happy to relearn them today. My upper body swaying in the turns, I press my chest forward and lean into another downhill section, vaulting over a couple larger rocks as a grin forms on my lips. I do not lose concentration, but on an open section where trail crews have built slash piles for winter burning, I allow my thoughts to drift for a short time. I reflect on an interaction with a friend from earlier in the week, an article I read recently, think of what I want for dinner...

Not for long though. On the next set of rollers, I notice that my get-out-of-jail-free card has already been redeemed, and the burn returns to my muscles. It's offseason, and although I feel pretty good, fitness is not where it was even three weeks ago. It's time to seek home before the joyful hurdling becomes a painfully slow slog. I sharpen my concentration knowing this is when I most likely to make a stupid mistake and roll an ankle, and even once mutter "focus" aloud. To add an element of risk, daylight is rapidly disappearing, and I periodically fail to spot a rock in the dying sunlight. Why did I wait for evening before initiating this run? Because I wanted the test I'm now taking, the uncommon experience of an absolutely clear mind watching day turn to night while scampering amidst the forest. One step, sight, the next step, backing off the speed a little to be sure of placement. Soon, I am approaching the trailhead, spotting more signs of human traffic and watching the path widen underfoot. Back home I go, until the next time...