Spirit of Racine race report -
" Beam me up Scotty. This place isn't fit for humans."
Steve Moore

The first time I saw a weekend weather forecast was five days before the race, where it predicted 100 degrees for Chicago. Watching weather.com for the next few days, it looked like Racine would be in the 80s at race time reaching 94 or so at 3 PM. OK. I can do this. Just take it easy. I asked for advice from a friend who has done dozens of marathons and is a trainer for marathoners. He told me his main heat related experience was once quitting when he felt rotten running a marathon when the temperature was in the 70s. Thanks a lot you &*# wimp. He did give me the telltale signs of oncoming heat exhaustion, so that was helpful. Then on Friday, they started talking about 20 mph winds gusting up to 30. Great. The lake will be choppy, I’ll get blown off my bike and will fry during the run. When do we hear about the locust?

One nice piece of news on Friday was delivery of a pair of Vittoria Arrow road shoes I’d purchased Tuesday night on eBay. I’m an eBay addict, having built my tri bike from scratch using parts obtained over last fall and winter. I’d been looking for road shoes to add to the mountain bike shoes I use for commuting. I got a great deal on these but had no expectation of delivery before this race. I know it’s stupid to do a race with equipment you haven’t tested, but the new shoes fit perfectly and my mountain shoes are hot, hurt a bit and, according to Adam at Get a Grip when he did a fitting for me a few months ago, are inefficient. The Vittorias were going to Racine.

Saturday was spent hydrating, with a short ride testing out my new shoes, adjusting the clips and making certain they were truly more comfortable than my mountain shoes. I’m an early riser, so I had decided long ago to sleep at home and drive up to Racine the morning of the race. But they require you to register and check in your bike on Saturday, so this meant two trips. I got there early enough Saturday to get a spot on the bike rack near the isle. The temperature was pleasant, probably high 70s. That was one of the problems with this heat wave – it came exactly at race time, so none of us could acclimate ourselves to the weather. I had kept the air conditioner off at our house this week to get myself used to it, but living in the high 70s and low 80s doesn’t prepare you for what we’d be facing.

I got back to Racine with plenty of time to spare on Sunday morning. I saw a lot of people with bike pumps, and overheard one guy say you lose 10 to 15 lbs of pressure overnight. Even though I had brought my pump, I decided to leave my tires alone, figuring the heat will get that pressure back.

The walk to the swim start was inspiring. Being in the 50-54 age group, I was in the second to last flight. So I took my time leaving the transition area and was near the end of the line. There were more than a thousand people walking in front of me in a mile long thin strip along the shore. It was one of those moments when I wish I had a camera with me. As I was walking, I overheard a woman say that her boyfriend was telling a buddy of his that she was in the wave just in front of his and his buddy’s response was “The people in front of me are just targets.” I stored that away for future use.

The swim looked daunting. This was my first 1⁄2 IM and only my third triathlon. I did my first last year at Accenture and got a distorted view of my ability. I was never a swimmer and hadn’t taken a lesson since I was about 12. I started swimming a couple of days a week at Ohio Street Beach last summer and sort of taught myself to swim. That was good enough to let me finish Accenture ahead of a few people. I now know that Accenture attracts a wide range of athletes. Beating someone in that group isn’t too hard. Reality hit me up at Big Foot, when I finished dead last, more than five minutes after the next to the last swimmer. I worked on my swimming the last few weeks, but had little hope of doing any better. The horn blew and we took off. I started much too fast, and after two or three minutes I had my first and only doubts about finishing this race. I was exhausted and I still had about 1.19 miles of swimming to go. So I slowed down, got into a rhythm and felt a lot better. But I was pretty rapidly losing track of other swimmers. About 10 minutes into the race, I lost contact. Now I had to keep a straight line without the help of other swimmers. It was choppy and I’d sometimes have to tread water a few seconds to find a buoy. That became a problem because several times, I’d get leg cramps from treading. This was turning into a nightmare. Once a woman in a kayak came up to me and told me I was off course. I thanked her and started heading closer to shore. A minute later, she came up to me again and said “No. The other way.” I adjusted again and kept up my routine of swimming a minute or two, trying to see the next buoy with a quick glance and more often than not, having to tread water to look for it, often getting leg cramps in one or the other legs. When swimming, I’d keep a nice stoke for a minute or two, lose it, recover again and lose it again, probably zig zagging the whole way. God, when will this end?

Finally, I saw the buoy indicating I could turn to shore. When I got to the beach, I looked behind me and didn’t see any swimmers. Dead last again. One of the volunteers said: “You got your money’s worth.” I made a lame joke about not wanting to face the heat. Then I then looked at my watch and was horrified to see I’d taken 1 hour 25 minutes. The cutoff was 1:15 after the last wave, which would have been 3 minutes behind me. But no one told me to stop so I continued up to the transition area. Either they were never serious about the cutoff or decided to extend it due to the conditions. In any event, I was on land and ready to rock.

It’s easy to find your bike when it’s the only one in the transition area. I dropped off my wetsuit, put on my Vittorias, my two week old Rudy Project sunglasses (kudos to whoever got them as a CTI sponsor) and my bulky commuter helmet (next eBay purchase – something sleeker).

Several people said “Way to go” and “Good race” as I went up the first hill. Come on people, I just spotted almost the entire field at least 45 minutes! But now it was time to have fun. I commute about 100 miles a week and try to do a long ride on weekends, so I’m a decent cyclist. Last year at Accenture, I averaged 20 mph and at Big Foot before I got a flat tire at about mile 18, I was averaging 20.5 mph. But I knew I’d better scale it back for a 1⁄2 IM in this kind of weather. Surprisingly, I saw my first target only about 3 miles into the bike course. Some twisted neurons in my brain made a connection to the death last week of James “Scotty” Doohan and I said to myself “Captain, long range scanners indicate a target up ahead.” From this point on, it became a battle between the irresponsible hot head Captain Kirk who always wanted to zip along at Warp 10 and the pragmatic Scotty, who wanted to protect his ship. “Helmsman, warp 10!” “But Captain, she can’t handle that speed! You’re traveling up hill against a 20 mile per hour wind!” I usually let Scott win and kept a very conservative speed. In fact, I tried to ignore my speedometer because I didn’t want to be tempted to keep certain speeds against the wind. I just tried to keep an even power output regardless of whether the wind was with me against me or a cross wind. Even though I was only averaged 17.7 mph, the targets kept coming and eventually, Kirk would say “put it up on the screen” as I approached and Spock would announce whether it was a Klingon (male) or Romulan (female). (Don’t ask me why, it just seems right.) “OK Scotty, can we take them?” “Aye Captain. Increasing to warp 8.” This went on for the rest of the bike leg. Eventually, I passed 45 targets and was never passed myself, which is a pretty cool bike leg. Keeping up the theme, when I went for my energy gel, it was Scotty asking for and getting some dilithium crystals. I never came up for a fantasy for my water breaks, but I drank constantly, downing 9 or 10 bottles during my ride. I never felt really hot until the last few miles. Also, my feet started burning at about the 50 mile mark. The Vittorias have a well ventilated top and a little air scoop in the sole that is suppose to keep your feet cool. I guess nothing works in this kind of heat. I was concerned with blisters, but as it turns out, my feet were just hot.

When I came into transition 2, I realized the dilithium crystals didn’t agree with my system, so I had to take a lengthy pit stop. So much for getting back some time with quick transitions. I had forgotten to take some electrolyte tablets with me on the bike, so I popped a couple and put the rest in my tri jersey.

The Star Trek fantasy was now over. I wasn’t doing warp speed any more. I was just doing a slow jog. The run course is two laps, so it wasn’t possible to tell if I was passing or being passed by someone who was on their first or second lap. So there was no joy in playing that game any more. Now it was simply a slog through the heat and humidity. I really wasn’t prepared for 13 miles. Early this summer, I was running about 20 miles per week, with a long run of 9 or 10 miles. But two weeks before Big Foot, I developed plantar fasciitis. So I’ve scaled back to 10 miles per week, with a long run of 5 miles. That isn’t enough for this distance, but my only goal was to not hurt myself. After a few miles, I saw that I was averaging a little more than 12 minutes per mile. Awful, but I didn’t care. I found a pace that seemed sustainable and kept with it. Like most people still on the course at that time, I walked through all water stops and tried to jog in between. The people hosing us down were great. After a while, I tried putting ice in my hat. I read somewhere that it is a bad idea because it tricks your body into not sweating. I don’t know. I didn’t seem to have any problem sweating at any time during the run, so I’d say it worked in these conditions.

After the first lap I reached for my electrolyte tablets and realized that had disintegrated from the hose soakings. So I rubbed my hand in my pocket and licked my fingers. It looked weird, but tasted great. Going into the run, I thought it would be good to finish the first lap because I’d know that every runner in front of me was a target. But by this time my brain was kind of fuzzy and I really didn’t care if I was passing or being passed. I just wanted to finish. Nothing really hurt. No blisters, no sore feet, just a general ache in my legs. I wasn’t even as tired as I was afraid I’d be. I was just HOT. I took every water offered, usually having two at each stop. I put ice on my head, welcomed getting hosed down by the locals, but I still felt hot. If I passed any CTI members who said hi (I was wearing CTI shorts and jersey) and I was too wacked out to say hello, I apologize. One highlight was passing a kid with a sign that said “Smile.” It really picked me up because it reminded me to savor the moment. Until last summer I had never swam more than a pool length or run more than 5 miles, and here I was doing a half IM on a day that had most people huddling around their air conditioners. I gave him a big smile and thanked him as I passed. At about mile 10 I knew I’d finish this thing. Just take it easy and keep hydrated. A couple of miles later it was walk up the last hill behind the zoo and then show the fans I had something left by breaking into a nice firm jog at the finish line. I looked down and my watch - 7 hours, 27 minutes. Nothing to be proud of, but it beats not finishing.

Someone handed me a medal and another person gave me a bottle of water. Although I was supposed to call my wife to say I’d finished without the need for hospital care, I had to sit down first. I plopped down in the food tent 10 feet from the food. I was staring at the Oreo cookies and orange slices, thinking they would be a good pick-me-up, even though I wasn’t hungry at all. But I couldn’t stand. I was feeling light headed just sitting and the slightest attempt to stand brought me close to fainting. I felt even hotter than I was on the course, with my face feeling flushed and my entire body dripping sweat. I dumped my water on my head to cool off, but I still couldn’t move. I closed my eyes and nodded off. Several times people asked me if I was ok and I stupidly said I was fine instead of asking them to go grab me some more cold water or some energy food. Finally, after about a half an hour I was able to stand and got some orange slices. I then made it to the transition area to call my wife on my cell phone. It was almost two hours after she expected a call (I’m a moron and told her I’d be done in 6 1⁄2 hours), so she had been justifiably concerned. After that, I forced down some food and tried to rest up for my drive home. Of course, it wasn’t too bright, to expect to cool off sitting in a hot tent in 95 degree heat. But amazingly, I felt pretty good and walked my stuff back to my car, where the air conditioning was heaven. I had put a Coke in an ice chest in the car and a Coke never tasted as good or felt as cold.

The drive home was pleasant. I kept thinking of that kid with the sign, and I’d smile. Last year when I started training for Accenture, I thought it would be a great accomplishment. By the time the race came, however, I had done enough lengthy training days and bricks that it wasn’t much more than a particularly aggressive workout. This was different. Completing a 1⁄2 IM in those conditions is well beyond anything I could have expected out of myself. This was a race to be proud of. To all of you that did this race – and also the ones that did the Xterra in Milwaukee the same day – congratulations.