Steelhead Post Race Novel (Insanely Loooooooooooong)
Ryan Perrone 

The following congregation of text wasn’t assembled for the purpose of sharing the story of my first half-ironman, but rather for me to jot down my thoughts and have my own detailed recap of the race for a) personal reflection, and b) a good reference point to be used as I continue to torture and torment my body and mind in the sport of triathlon. What is written below are the events and my random thoughts as fresh as I can recall them in my head, with absolutely NO attempt to edit for the sake of brevity.

So anyway, what did happen on Saturday August 6th in St. Joe, MI?
Well, I’m laying in bed, sort of half-awake, wondering what time it is, and the wake up call rings. UGH! Time to get up. Did I really even sleep? I don’t feel like I did, but I don’t feel like I was awake all night. I was definitely still awake at 12:30, now it’s 4:45. Don’t worry about the sleep, it’s a done deal. All three of your biggest workouts this year were on 4.5 hours sleep, and two of them you felt like a rock star, hopefully that will become 3 out of 4 today.

Choked down my granola bar, Clif bar, water & OJ for breakfast. Covered myself with suntan lotion so I wouldn’t fry during the day, and then covered myself with body glide. I arrived at transition later than I had originally planned, but since my swim wave didn’t leave until 7:32 (race started at 7:00); I knew I had some extra time to play with. After dropping off my stuff and claiming my space (which btw, they had the racks marked for each individual spot, which I was impressed with), I took the bike out for 15 easy minutes to loosen up the legs and get the blood pumping, I figured I’d try warming up before a race for a change since I usually feel like crap hitting the swim hard with no warm-up. In transition, I ate another half of a Clif bar (I had my race nutrition very well planned out, or so I thought), finished organizing my things, waited for 10+ minutes for the porta-john’s (only four of them for 700 racers in the transition area?, you would think they could get a few more).

Got to the swim start a few minutes before the race started, watched the first wave go off the pier, then started my warm-up, which probably lasted 12-15 minutes. Downed a GU and some more water and stood around for the other waves to go. Right after wave #7 jumped off the pier, we were allowed to venture out to the “starting line”. I picked a spot far down the pier b/c I figured the waves would keep pushing me towards shore. Oh fuck, I’m really doing this thing! It seemed like a great idea every single day leading up to the race. However, I’m now standing 6 feet above the water on a pier, about to subject myself to a 5 hour race that I thoroughly intend to be painful and grueling, at least at some point. At this moment, I question my sanity, which is next to impossible, b/c I have none left, I’m doing this damn race. I had originally entertained the idea of diving off the pier, but I realized the extra few seconds to be gained weren’t that precious, and I could jump straight in with a 100% chance of not having my goggles come off / fill up with water.

The Swim
Off goes the air-horn, I take the plunge, rise to the surface and start swimming, but not really hard. I can see arms flailing everywhere off to my right as everyone else is jockeying to get out in front, but I knew I wasn’t going to play that game this time. I just tried to pick a steady pace that wasn’t slow, but by no means felt like I was working extremely hard. After a while, I started catching the other waves, at first it was the breaststrokers, who I hoped wouldn’t kick me.

Amazingly, with my sighting, I was actually able to see other swimmers before I passed them and avoided swimming over the top of them. The one thing my sighting couldn’t detect half the time was the big-ass buoys in the water b/c the freakin’ sun was blinding me the whole damn time!! Remember how I said I started at the far end of the pier, that means the buoys were on my right (you could swim on either side of them, except the last one), but occasionally they kept showing up off to my left. Damn it, I’m not swimming in a straight line. I honestly don’t remember how many times I crossed over from left to right and right to left of the buoys, but I’m sure it wasn’t helping me get to the swim finish in the fastest possible time.

Another thing to add to my mild frustration, I look over on one breath and see a purple swim cap. The purple caps were wave #9, 4 minutes behind. For some reason I knew it had to be Ruben Figueres, and he was passing me on the swim in yet another race. I even talked to him about this before the race too. Of course Ruben was flying, but I was hoping he was really hauling b/c if not, my swim time wasn’t going to be that great. I finally came upon the fabled green buoy which meant I could turn towards shore and be done with the swim. Well, now the sun was officially 100% in my sight as I’m trying to figure out exactly where I’m trying to swim to. I could sort of make out some splashing, so I just headed in that general direction.

Finally, my hand hit sand, I was close to the beach. I proceeded to do a few dolphin dives b/c I thought spiking my heart rate would be a good idea before running uphill through sand. I looked down at my watch, 34 minutes and change, what the hell!?! I thought worst case scenario, I would finish the swim in 32 minutes.

As I’m running up the beach and stripping down my wetsuit, I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. Great, what the hell did you do now to injure yourself? It didn’t hurt at all during the swim, good thing the rest of the race pretty much relies on the lower body. After an eternity of trudging up the beach and into transition, I get to my space and surprisingly, most of the bikes from my wave (we were all grouped together) were still there, apparently I was somehow towards the front my wave (after reviewing the results, I was 3rd out of the swim in my wave). My transition (once I finally got there), felt pretty fast, I had practiced this quite a bit and had it down like clockwork. I yanked the wetsuit off my legs (easiest it ever seemed to come off), sprayed the sand off my feet, socks, shoes, sunglasses, helmet, time to rock! As I started the bike, I look at my HRM, >160, this needed to come down, and now! I’m also almost 40 minutes into the race already, this was also not my plan. Time lost was spilled milk, so I focused my mind on dropping the heart rate down and not worrying about the swim, the energy you saved (or perhaps think you saved) will get you through the rest of the race.

The Bike
The swim is never a key component of the race, the bike is the part that can cause the most damage, so the race is now ready to begin. My goal was to not go out too hard and keep something in store, especially for the hills that I would hit at mile 48. At mile 1, there is a short but steep hill, I dropped into my lowest gear and just spun easy to get to the top, sort of snickering to myself as the people around me tried to muscle their way up the hill in a harder gear. Out on the main highway, I just put my head down and went, keeping the heart rate in check and not putting undue pressure on the legs. It was interesting that this was my first race of the year that I was not in the first wave, so instead of biking by myself, with the exception of occasionally getting passed, I had plenty of opportunities to pass people. I made the most ground on people whenever hills were involved. On the downhills, the Softride kicks ass and accelerates well, then on the uphills, I felt I had more climbing strength (thank you Computrainer).

For the first half hour, my focus was water only. My race plan was to go through two 20oz bottles of water and 68 oz of Gatorade Endurance. By the time I started taking Hammer Gel (minutes 30, 1:15 & 2:00), my water was over half gone. Five minutes after that, I decided I would start on the Gatorade. The plan was to chug every 10 minutes, hopefully emptying most of my NeverReach by the time I had 5 miles left in the bike. Next on the nutrition plan, one Clif bar, half consumed by mile 20, half by mile 40. I trained with these for the first time two weeks prior, and they worked great, so I was sold on them. The only problem, they need lots of water to wash down. I had two bars broken into bit-size pieces in my Bento Box, so I could reach down and pop a piece into my mouth every so often. I was chewing my first bites of Clif bar when I saw my first tri club member on the course (Cary Lisota), I sort of said hi, but my mouth was really dry from the food and I started choking when I spoke (note to self, don’t talk during the race when eating). I was trying to ration water until I got to the aid station at mile 20, so I didn’t want to use it all up just yet. As I come over a hill, about 17 miles into the bike course, an aid station pops out of nowhere. Shit, I wasn’t expecting this yet! The aid station wasn’t supposed to be for another 3 miles, at which point I was going to stop to piss. I instinctively reached down and chucked my current water bottle, realizing by its weight that I could have drunk the remaining 5 ounces first. I called out for water and someone hands me one. As I’m reaching for it, I realize it’s a clear plastic water bottle like you buy at the gas station, it’s not a cycling water bottle designed for bottle cages. I proceed to drink at least 5 ounces before putting it my cage, realizing that a) it might not fit on my bike (it fortunately did), and b) one wrong bump in the road could send it flying. Regarding flying bottles, people need to learn to use their cages so they don’t litter all over the course, I had to dodge a lot of water and Gatorade bottles. So, now I have plenty of water to wash down my food, but crap, I forgot to stop to go to the bathroom. I actually thought about going on the bike, but I don’t think I could actually get myself to go even if I did try. Oh well, roughly 30 minutes to the next aid station, just tough it out. In the meantime, keep up with the nutrition.

Around mile 20 was when my stomach started to feel bloated and rather uncomfortable. Could it have something to do with the sudden influx of Hammer Gel, Gatorade and Clif Bar? This was the same as my training regimen, but during training I wasn’t ever pushing my body as hard. I had planned out my nutrition in detail and was determined to stick to it, but I just washed down more water to aid the digestion process. I chugged Gatorade every 10 minutes, I had my second serving of Hammer Gel at 1:20 (off by five minutes, but I was really too bloated), and occasionally kept popping chunks of Clif bar. If I would have listened to my body, I wouldn’t have eaten anything, but I just knew I had to stick to my plan, it was mapped out for a reason. I don’t remember where the third aid station was, it was either around mile 27 or mile 30, but I was keeping an eye out for it b/c I desperately needed to make a pit stop. As I came to an intersection, the course hung a left, I saw the volunteers handing out water and Gatorade, where in the hell is the porta-john?? I finally spot it on the opposite side of the road, so I veered off the road onto the grass and crap, there’s a bike parked next to it. Fortunately, the guy in there was just coming out. After dropping what felt like a gallon, I crossed the road, grabbed another water bottle and took off. Everyone I had just passed in the last few miles had now went by me. Catching them was not a problem as I felt awesome now, my stomach felt good again, it was time to start picking it up on the bike.
As I approached mile 40, my goal was to have eaten an entire Clif bar, but I felt I hadn’t yet so I kept working at it. (Note to self, in future, divide chunks from two Clif Bars into two separate Ziploc bags so you can monitor consumption!). Again, I felt bloated and uncomfortable, but I just forced myself once again to keep at it so my body wouldn’t shut down later.

The hills around mile 48 finally showed up and I felt fine going up them, a little slow, but I was still able to pass people going up them. The only thing that really began to annoy me on the bike at this point was there was a very wide and smooth shoulder and everyone rode right on the white line. I had to veer out in the road to pass when there was no need for it. I just wanted to get off the bike by now, my feet and other parts of my body were numb. I finally saw what I felt was the Holy Grail of signs on the bike, the divided highway sign, we were about to get off the main road and then it was < 2 miles, I was almost done with the bike. However, I wasn’t aware that the course didn’t backtrack that initial segment, instead, it was a gradual downhill straight down the main highway, this was better yet! I was hauling ass down this last segment, 29 – 30 mph, and I wasn’t cranking hard, I was actually spinning the legs to loosen up for the run. As I turned off the highway, I stood up, stretched each calf, massaged my quads briefly, and unbuckled my shoes as I coasted slowly to the dismount line. As I’m getting my feet on top of my shoes I hear someone cheer me on, I barely saw who it was , out of the corner of my eye I was pretty sure it was John Simpson and Kelly Kopec. Was Simpson wearing that damn sombrero again? Whatever, focus on your dismount so you don’t fall on your face. I successfully dismounted without completely stopping and ran into T2, even though my feet were completely numb and hurt with each step. I wished they would have put carpet down so we didn’t have to run through the sand to go into transition.

They were playing Mr. Brightside by The Killers when I came into T2, which kind of got me pumped up, that along with Ruben standing in transition cheering me on to get going (he even timed me and let me know that my port-john break was 21 seconds – thanks Ruben). As I left transition, I threw water on my face and glanced at my watch, by my estimates, I went under 2:40 on the bike, not bad, but I had hoped for slightly better.

The Run
Now time for my first half-marathon. My goal was to keep the heart rate in check (~148-150) for the first two miles, see what my resulting pace was and try to hold it throughout the race. During the first quarter mile, a guy I was passing said “Nice pacing”, to which I replied “Let’s hope I can hold it”. I knew holding on was going to be the biggest challenge of the day. I got to the hill just before mile 1 and managed to get up it without walking. I had tackled this hill twice on brick workouts and wasn’t about to let it get the best of me two out of three times. Since I couldn’t remember what time I started the run, I didn’t have a mile 1 split. At mile two, I think I was about a 7:25 mile. Damn, I’m flying right now, if you hold this, you’re a total stud!

By mile 2, I was supposed to have my first e-Gel, but the stomach was saying “I don’t want it.” I prepared the stomach with some more water (fuel belt was a damn good investment!) and then forced myself to take some gel. Around mile 3, I started to feel my CTC jersey chafing underneath my left arm. “Great” was my exact thinking. Maybe there was some leftover body glide on my neck that I could use to ease the chafing, I rubbed my hand on the back of my neck and then rubbed it where I was chafing. I didn’t notice the chafing as much after that, it could have been masked by the other aches and pains. Between miles 3 and 4, the lead racer was heading back in, he had a mile to go, lucky bastard. By mile 4, I had planned to have 8 oz of Gatorade, yeah, that wasn’t happening. I was consuming water, but Gatorade just wasn’t sounding good. My run splits started fading, I was now at 8:00 pace, but I just worked to hold onto this. The next few miles weren’t really a blur, but just that, miles. Hot, sweaty, sun beating down on me, tired miles. At each aid station, I filled up a water bottle if I was low, if not, I grabbed one and threw it in my face or poured it over my head, and sometimes, followed a fellow tri-clubber’s advice and just poured some down my shorts (it really helps you cool off, the downside is your shoes start getting soaked). Occasionally when I’d reach down to unclip a bottle from my belt, I’d get that sharp pain again in my shoulder. Now I was wondering whether I’d messed up my swimming for the rest of the year. Would I still be able to do Big Shoulders? What the hell are you thinking about that for, you’ve got a frickin’ race to worry about!!

Sometime around mile 6 or so, I came upon a guy with an 8 on his calf, which meant he was in my wave. I made my best attempt to pass him without looking like I was really working hard. I knew there were not many people in my age group ahead of me, only two had passed me on the bike, and one other on the run (who was running at mach 5). I wanted to hold my pace and put some distance on this guy, if I could catch one other person, I might have a shot at placing. I’ve heard that one should focus on just finishing their first half-ironman without worrying about time or place, but sometimes I’m not that smart and ignore what “they” say.

On each of the many loops, I kept crossing paths with Dan Lee, at first we would cheer each other, by the end, I just pointed at him, my enthusiasm levels were falling. I was trying to hold pace, but gravity was winning the battle between it and my 8:00 mile pace as I slipped to 8:10, 8:20 and I even think and 8:30 somewhere. I was supposed to have my second e-Gel at mile 7, but mile 7 came and went. The warring factions in my mind debated whether I needed it or not, and finally I forced myself to down it b/c that was my pre-race plan, I needed both the calories and electrolytes. As it was, my legs were already sore and felt like they wanted to cramp, but fortunately had not started to. Eventually, the guy who I had passed earlier in my age group caught back up to me. I just kept on him and wasn’t going to let him slip away. I had trained for this type of situation and secretly wanted to have to fight for an age group place. After mile 10, at the next aid station, he stopped for a second and as I went by him I grabbed a water on the run, poured it over my head and just kept going. Now or never I told myself. I was past mile 10, it was only a 5k from here on out, I just had to lay it all out. My HRM was only showing me at 145-147, but I was giving it all I could. My legs felt like lead weights, my shoes squished with each step. At mile 11, I passed Robyn Docherty and just pointed to her, I couldn’t say anything, I was pushing to shake this guy on my ass. I was running this last 3.1 miles as hard as I could, but according to my splits, I was only moving at 8:00 / mile. I finished the rest of my first 8oz of Gatorade for the run, figuring the electrolytes were probably needed. I even considered taking some electrolyte tablets, but the thought was rather unsettling to my stomach, so more water instead.

At mile 12, I turned a corner and looked back, the guy was only 30 feet back! Once again, I could only push 8:00 / mile. After the last aid station, I could hear someone coming up on me, I knew who it was, I let him catch me and just planned to hang on him until the finish. The problem with that strategy was that I couldn’t hang, I was giving it my all, and my all wasn’t enough. I just watched him slip. I had part of my head saying to just jog the rest of the way in, you’re almost done, you’ve already put yourself through enough pain, but the other part of me said, get to the finish line ASAP so you can stop moving!! As I got closer to the park, I began picking my pace as much as I could (which probably wasn’t much). Then, as I entered the park, I passed the mile 13 sign, which seemed like sweet relief, only .1 to go. I rounded the final corner, heard some club members yell my name, crossed the finish line and looked at the clock to get my time.

5:02:19

Mixed Thoughts
Not shabby and nothing to be ashamed about, but for some reason, it didn’t excite me. I wanted better, I trained my ass off, I let someone pass me at the end. I never ever get passed at the end, I had trained mentally for this scenario, it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. I really wanted to break five hours, and I was so close, yet sooooooo far away. I don’t know where I could have gained another 2:19. Maybe I could have pushed harder on the bike, but had I done that, I might have shot my run all to hell. Once the race results were posted, I realized that I qualified for a preferred starting position for the Chicago Marathon (made it by 23 seconds). That really excited me because I don’t consider myself much of a runner. However, I’m still confused about my swim time, I should be able to do better than that. I did an easy 2 mile swim less than two weeks prior and averaged only 1 second slower per 100 yards. Maybe that enabled me to go faster than I would have on the bike and run, who knows.

One day, a few beers and a ton of calories later, I’m singing a better tune. I did my first half-ironman in 5:02 and change which is nothing to be ashamed about. Judging by the intense and deep soreness that I have in every muscle in my leg 24 hours later, I can’t possibly believe that I didn’t give everything that I had. So I had high expectations and just fell short, it’s a learning experience, and it has been a truly fun one at that. I had to struggle multiple times to stick to my nutrition plan, yet I kept at it. In reviewing that part of my execution, I’d give myself an A.

Perhaps a little perspective helps too. A year ago, in my first event, which wasn’t even a full Olympic distance, I could barely break 2:30. A year and a half ago, I was anemic and walking at a normal pace was exhausting. I could be dealing with much worse things than finishing a half-ironman in just over 5 hours. I’ve managed to come a long way, but that also doesn’t mean that I’m not going to continue to work my ass off. I’m sticking with my lofty goals and I’m going to take what I learned in this race to help me reach them. But for the next few days, I’m not doing a damn thing!