Travelling to a foreign country for a race away from home adds even more variables to an already challenging endurance race. Costa Rica's Playas de Coco brought with it a beautiful landscape, warm waters, and newly renovated roads on which we athletes got to swim, bike and run. Also included in this race was the heat and humidity that this tropical paradise is known for and all the whimsical surprises that come with a new race's inaugural debut.

Being a brand new race on the 2017 Ironman race circuit, Ironman 70.3 Costa Rica was going to be a learning experience for the race directors, chocked full of lessons and bugs to work out. First and foremost was the swim.

The water was perfect, had an excellent beach entry and exit, and was ultimately one of the best 1.2 mile swim courses I've yet had the pleasure to race. The challenge, however, was that the race's 15 swim waves were organized in the exact opposite order of typical race logic, starting the statistically slowest wave first (women aged 45+) and the statistically fastest swimmers' wave last (men aged 35-39). I'm not sure why this was the order chosen; perhaps it was an act of chivalry to let the ladies go before the men, or maybe an attempt to give the slower swimmers more time, reducing the total time the swim course was to remain open. Regardless of the rationale behind it, everyone suffered. Slower swimmers were blocking the path of the faster swimmers behind them, forcing lots of heavy contact for the entire 1.2 miles mostly consisting of large men swimming over top of smaller women. Being in the top third of all the swim times for the day, I personally struggled with swimming over literally hundreds of slower swimmers that started before me. Ultimately, I opted to swim slightly outside of the course, adding an additional 150 yards to the 1.2 mile swim just to limit the amount of interference that came with so many slower swimmers starting ahead of me.

The water was warm; the warmest I'd ever swam in and the first race I've been in that was completely wetsuit ILLEGAL. Above 83.8°F, Costa Rica's 84°F water temperature put it in the category of wetsuit-banned races to prevent athletes from potentially overheating. Swimming in a wetsuit is always faster, so it was a bit disappointing to not have that advantage on race day, though the warm waters were certainly a joy to swim in otherwise and it would have been uncomfortably warm in a wetsuit.

There were jellyfish in the water, too; not the big scary kind, but the kind that you can't even see and feel more like ant bites on your skin while you're swimming. I wasn't particularly bothered by them, but I definitely got multiple stings during the 1.2 mile swim.

This race was my first real-world execution of the corkscrew technique I was taught during my US Masters Swimming Coach certification earlier this year, and it made for getting around buoys and making crisp, quick turns in open water a snap. I have to say each turn went perfectly and I was amazed at what a advantageous technique that is in a triathlon swim that normally is perilous around each turn buoy. I'll absolutely be passing this skill along to my athletes.

Out of the water about 4 minutes slower than I wanted to be, I charged the beach and zipped into the transition area that had become a total mud bath on a soccer field flooded by the frequent rain storms. I donned my helmet, stowed my goggles and swim cap in my swag bag I hung from the bike rack, and headed to the transition exit, literally covered in mud from the knees down.

Fortunately, they had a volunteer with a hose at the transition exit and I spent a meager 10 seconds getting a quick rinse of at least my feet before hitting the mount line. I had one of my faster flying mounts and spun up to speed quickly before putting my feet in my shoes and making my way up the first big hill of the race at mile 3.

The bike course was one of the best I've raced as well. The roads were perfectly smooth, except for a few speed bumps in the school zones we passed through in each of the 3 cities the course went through. I was able to successfully bunny hop each and not lose any momentum (which is a real treat for the volunteers staged there screaming and waving their arms frantically to get everyone to slow down to avoid hitting the "reductores," as they're called in Spanish). I found out the hard way that the aid stations did not have Gatorade Endurance (the high sodium, high carb, high potassium good stuff that Ironman has a contract to have at all their aid stations) but rather just regular old Gatorade. With the Gatorade brand as as the race's headlining sponsor, this was as surprising as it was disheartening. Lesson learned: bring the good stuff with you for international races, just in case.

Another challenge to the day's bike segment, it seemed there was something wrong with my power meter - an awful thing to have fail on race day as holding and maintaining a consistent power output is key to having the fastest possible bike AND run splits. I was shooting for a consistent power output of 225 watts but I was struggling to get anything to register above 200. At the end of the race my Garmin data would tell me that my average power output was 153 watts - a total joke and terrible miscalculation so there was definitely a problem with my power meter (at 153 watts, my bike split would have been at least an hour longer than it was so I was definitely going much harder than was being calculated). Fortunately, I had been training for months leading up to the race at precisely the wattage I was shooting for and had a very good internal "feel" for what 225 watts meant for my legs, heart rate, and breathing and was able to execute the best bike and run splits I feel I possibly could have. Lessons learned: re-calibrate the power meter before every race during transition setup, especially after travelling, and continue training to "feel" so that race day technology failures aren't destructive.

There were two out-and-back segments on each of the two loops of the bike course, which meant I got to see my wife, Heather, double-back at each one. Due to that odd "women's first" swim start, this was the first race we've been in where she was ahead of me and I had to work to catch her. It's always such a treat to get to race with her, and these out-and-back courses - while inconvenient due to the full slow-down at each 180 degree turn - make it fun to get to see each other so many times throughout the day.

Another perk of this race start and out-and-back course meant that we were out there with some of the best pros on the planet. I even had Leanda Cave (one of the best female pros in the world who would go on to win the female pro race) take full advantage of the legal 25 second draft zone I had created before slingshotting past me. She's such a badass! #igotchickedbythebest

It took me 42 miles on the bike to finally catch up to my wife after her 40ish minute head start, and she was very encouraging as I passed her, knowing that she was just doing this race for fun and that I was executing a solid bike split catching her before the run (she's no slow-poke!).

The last aid station on the bike came at mile 39 - a long ways from the finish, and to make matters worse, the volunteer that handed me my last bottle of Gatorade actually handed me a totally empty bottle! I was so terribly disappointed and had to immediately make compromising plans for the rest of my race ahead. I continued drinking my Perpetuem, but that's more food than hydration, and took three hits of salt before every Perpetuem shot in an attempt to at least avoid cramping as much as possible with the impending dehydration. No water and no electrolyte beverage for the last 30+ minutes of the bike was going to make the start of the run a doozy.

Heading back into town I flew down the steep hill that had been such a pain to climb at just over 50mph (I mean 20, mom). I took my shoes off with about a half mile to go and pedaled hard all the way into the dismount line where I leapt off my bike and dashed into the mud pit again that was the transition area.

I spent a lot more time in T2 than I would like to admit, mainly because everything was covered in mud and I knew muddy feet would surely mean nasty blisters and otherwise torn up feet during the half marathon, which I desperately wanted to PR. After racking my bike and helmet, I grabbed my socks, shoes, foot towel and TriSlide and zipped over to the side of the transition area where I could hold onto the fence while cleaning and prepping my feet for the run ahead.

Once my clean, silicone soaked feet were comfortably in my socks and shoes, I tip-toed through the rest of the transition area, being ever so careful not to get my shoes muddy to the point of peril on the run. Out of the transition area, I started up my race pace and settled into a nice groove.

I was barely a mile into the race when the dehydration effects from the last 20% of the bike set in. Both quads cramped up and crippled me to a painful hobble. At the first aid station I took 5 shots of salt and chased it with refreshingly cold water and Gatorade. My cramps were a thing of the past in less than 60 seconds, though my quads would remain sore for the next 5 days post-race. Lesson learned: it's probably better to stop and turn my bike around to get another bottle of Gatorade versus going without anything to drink for so long. Always a tough call to make during a key race, though.

It was hot and humid and within the first 6 miles of the run I knew I wasn't going to have a shot at breaking the 2 hour mark which I had desperately trained for. Heart rate intensity gets affected big time by the heat and I knew that if I had pushed into a higher zone, I was going to risk more than just a PR. So, I stuck to my race day plan and doused myself in water at every aid station, filled my shorts with ice (ahhyeeee!), and even turned my visor upside-down so it could hold ice while it melted and cooled my head (thanks to race day photos, my blissful ignorance of how ridiculous an upside-down visor looked would soon be destroyed).

A few bouts of sprinkling rain were very welcomed, but I would have much preferred it to rain more and help with the heat. All in all, I had a decent run and PR'd, even though the course was a half mile short. The run course being an out-and-back setup as well, I got to see Heather several times during the run, too, and we even got a lot of ooh's and aww's in one particularly spectator-dense area as we kissed each other upon passing. Awww...

I had a solid race finish, even beating out another guy in my age group in the last 200 yards, and the race ended up being my highest points-scoring race yet at the 70.3 distance. It was disappointing to have the bike course more than 4 miles short and the run course a half a mile short, but averaging my paces I was still on track for my best and fastest race (and now have a tougher PR time to beat in the future!). There were lots of lessons learned, but I was very well prepared for this race and felt I was able to keep my composure and race to the best of my ability given the various challenges this race presented me.

Being a Father's Day race, it was extra nice to see my Dad at the finish line wearing his Irondad shirt! He had flown all the way down to Costa Rica just to watch us race; how's that for winning Father of the Year? Heather finished about 20 minutes after me and I was able to put her medal on again (I haven't missed getting to put her medal on at any race yet!). It was a beautiful day, an incredible race, and another great experience in this sport I love so much. Next up is Ironman 70.3 Santa Cruz in September...




Final Breakdown:
Swim: 38:58
T1: 1:59
Bike: 2:29:54
T2: 4:08
Run: 2:02:38
Total: 5:17:37