TOMTOM and I hoped for a decent weather day for this year’s Half Vermont Journey, which was held last Sunday, Sept. 9. The ’06 race had been cold and rainy and the bike leg had provided hypothermic conditions. We optimistically thought that couldn’t happen two years in a row.
While not part of the 70.3 series, this is an official USAT Half Ironman race. It starts and finishes in Branbury State Park, on Lake Dunmore in Salisbury, VT. The lake is quite shallow and, as such, boasts water temps in the low 70’s, even in early September. Vermont Sun hosts well-organized triathlons - sprint, Olympic distance and the half - from this area throughout the summer. In this year’s race, the swim was two laps around a .6 mile loop parallel to shore, then two loops on Rte. 7 for the bike and an out-and-back run along the lake.
Right on queue, the rain started as we were taking our bikes off the car in the parking lot at 6:30am. It was a steady rain at first - not heavy- and the wind picked up, making the water choppy. How easily I had forgotten my words at the end of the bike leg in 2006, when I said, “I will never start a long triathlon if it’s pouring rain and cold – I will simply pack up my gear and go home.” More than a quarter of the registered field had been smart enough to stay home on this dismal day. Yet, here I was again. A competitor at heart, I thought I had learned some valuable lessons from the ’06 race that I wouldn’t need to repeat in ’07. Of course, TOMTOM couldn’t stand the idea of me doing the race without him, so here he was again too, despite a calf injury and a commitment to run in the Reach the Beach relay five days later. It was an ominous start, as we both tried not to reflect on our challenges during last year’s bike leg.
Due to the wind, the swim was tough in one direction, pretty good in the other. Even in the choppy direction, I knew it was the most comfortable I would be all day – and the swim is my weakest discipline of the three.
It was impossible to be quick in T1. Even stuff in bags was wet the minute I took it out. I was cold already, so grabbed a long-sleeved zip heavyweight tech wear. I debated a rain jacket too, but thought it would be too much - DUH.
Valuable lesson #1: when it’s raining hard in T1, wear a waterproof outer layer. Don’t think, just do it – no exceptions.
It poured during the entire bike leg – except for one five minute period during which both TOMTOM and I developed great hope of how much better things would get without the rain. Then it started again… harder than before.
By mile 20, I had lost any dexterity in my hands and feeling in my feet due to the cold and wet conditions (I have a circulation issue called Raynaud’s Phenomenon, which makes this happen relatively fast in such conditions). I managed my last nutrition on the bike at mile 25 – I knew this would hurt me, but there was nothing I could do. I was shifting with my hands held as blocks and my teeth were chattering. I knew TOMTOM would be just as cold given the fact that he has about one third the body fat that I have! He was mustering a nice smile each time we met on the bike, so I thought at least he was warmer than last year.
Valuable lesson #2: if you suffer from Raynaud’s Phenomenon, wear Gore-Tex gloves and bike booties when biking in the rain and cold, no matter how long it takes to get dressed in T1. Throw in some hand warmers too.
Many riders had flats. I avoid road debris like the plague, and yet, at mile 52, I heard the fateful sound and knew it was my turn for a flat in a race. After a fair amount of cussing, I looked up to see a bike support crew member pulling over to help me. He told me he would take care of my tire and have me riding again soon. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have walked it in, as there was no way I could grip tools or any part of the tire-changing process with my hands.
T2 was a total washout. A kind fellow racer unclipped my helmet for me, as I did not have the dexterity to do it myself. I shoved my frozen feet into my running shoes, grabbed a dry jacket and fuel belt, and started running as fast as I could to warm up. No matter how weird it felt running on my frozen-block feet, it was better than being on the bike. By mile 4, the feeling in my feet was coming back and my hands were much better, so I could eat and drink. I threw down some good miles and was warming up. It was still pouring, but it was bothering me a lot less now.
On the out-and-back run, I met TOMTOM and figured he was about half an hour in front of me. I knew this meant he had trouble, as normally he would be further ahead. As he described it, the “monkey’s fist” in his calf seized up in the first mile and he was relegated to a jog. He was suffering a serious limp after the race – and worried about his next big running commitment a few days later.
After mile eight, my pace became quite erratic. My lack of nutrition and the cold on the bike was catching up to me; I was losing steam in my strongest event. Miles nine through twelve were a struggle. I forced another gel and was able to pick it up for the last mile. Disappointing time, but good overall performance considering the conditions…
As we have all learned, there are pre-race goals and then there are adjusted goals set during a race. I was reminded of the marathon that I am most proud to have run – it was my slowest, by an hour. But it was 87 degrees when I finished – and I finished, which was a huge accomplishment for me. This year’s Half Vermont Journey brought a similar sense of pride for finishing. Both TOMTOM and I were psyched to be race survivors! With all these lessons learned, I should be prepared for almost anything next year. The key is to keep these lessons fresh in mind, because it CAN happen again! J
