Ironman 70.3 Santa Cruz turned out to be a much more interesting race than anticipated. Not that any race is ever ho-hum, I just was expecting a much more straightforward race than it was.

Heather and I woke up and got going like any other race morning, with a breakfast of peanut butter toast, banana, and an Ensure while making final transition packing preparations and getting dressed and lubed up for the day. We were lucky enough to find a place to park Bertha about three quarters of a mile from the race start, so after breakfast we had a nice little walk to transition where I could get my bike set up, get my wetsuit on, and head to the beach for the start of the race. This was the first race Heather hasn't done with me since we hit the road full-time a year and a half ago, and it was much more relaxing to only have to take care of one athlete's needs instead of two. Heather also helped me tremendously with everything from breakfast preparation to gear schlepping, and it's amazing how much less stressful the morning can be with that extra love and support.

The walk down was through thick fog; this was the first crazy variable of the day. The fog was so heavy that made it difficult to see the bouys that outlined the course, so the 7am start was postponed until 7:25, then 7:45, then finally 8:00am with a reduced swim course for safety reasons. The traditional 1.2 mile swim had been shortened to 750 meters; never a good thing when the race course is shortened for those of us who are working towards self-improvement and being able to have apples to apples comparisons from race to race. Another big challenge to a shortened course is figuring out how hard to swim; training always revolves around finding that sweet spot pace where I can swim fast enough to have a good time while staying relaxed and aerobic in preparation for the long bike and run segments ahead. Like most other folks, though, I went anaerobic and pushed harder than usual because the shorter distance meant less exhaustion. I paid the price for this on the swim exit, feeling that peanut butter and toast breakfast creeping up to the back of my throat. I ran out of the water and quickly got my cap and goggles off and trapped them in my sleeve as I took the top half of my wetsuit off. I heard Heather yell to me and got to see her smiling face there with the GoPro as I shuffled up the beach towards the path to T1. The run from the beach to transition was almost a half mile (yes, that far, barefoot, in a wetsuit) and I remember the whole jog there trying to spot where and how I'd pull over to throw up my breakfast. Fortunately, I relaxed into a nice groove and the nauseousness subsided after about a minute and I was able to focus on running strong to transition.

After the longer than normal transition run, I had a nice, quick transition and was off to the bike mount line. The corridor for running the bike out and then back into transition was really narrow and that meant there were slow people that didn't care about their transition times blocking the path and slowing athletes behind them - so frustrating! Once to the mount line I threw my leg over the saddle and had one of the fastest and smoothest flying mounts yet.

The 56 mile bike course went right up the beautiful Pacific Coast Highway, and, although the first couple of hours were thick with the morning's heavy fog, before the ride was over, stunning views of the incredible California coastline made this course stand out as yet another scenic attraction on the Ironman race circuit. For the most part, the ride went as expected. I had wanted to have a faster overall time and speed, but the notorious hills and constant climbing and decending made it difficult for me to maintain a consistently high speed. With Ironman 70.3 St. George on the horizon as my first scheduled 2018 race (one of the toughest, hilliest courses on the circuit), much more hill work will be necessary in my upcoming training.

I stayed true to my 15 minute Perpetuem intake as well as getting something to eat at every aid station (the volunteers at this race were some of the best, all seeming to know what they were doing when handing off nutrition and hydration to high speed cyclists). I doused myself with water and took a couple of small sips to wash down my grub every time, but never refilled my Gatorade and made my initial 20 ounce bottle last the entire 56 miles. Not a great idea on paper to go with so little hydration and electrolyte beverage, but the cooler air meant less sweating and I didn't want to drink too much if I didn't have to.

I saw Heather and her GoPro rolling again with about 2 miles to go on the bike, with my feet already out of my shoes (a bit too early) in preparation for the quick dismount. Once off the bike I got bottlenecked again in the chute heading into the transition area, but eventually made my way in and got my bike racked, feet lubed, shoes, hat, sunglasses and number belt on before running out onto the 13.1 mile coastal run course.

I saw Heather again at the 2 mile mark (so awesome to see her throughout the day, picking up my spirits during the grueling race) and was feeling like a million bucks. My heart rate was well under control and I was running at a faster pace than I had planned, which I have to chalk up to spending the last 2 months of training at altitude. The morning fog and cool weather had faded, though, and it was starting to heat up. Somewhere around the 7th mile I started to really not feel great; my heart rate continued to stay low and in the right zone, but I just couldn't seem to make my legs turn over any faster. I decided it was time to push it and risk a slightly higher heart rate for the sake of just giving it a try, if nothing else (after all, the shortened swim had already made this race incomparable to others, so why not try something new?). I slammed down two cups of Red Bull with a Cliff bar at the next aid station and started to get mentally focused, picking up my pace and feeling good about the extra effort with only a few miles to go.

Around mile 9, though, I managed to catch my toe on the edge of the asphalt that had been pushed up from underneath by a large tree root. I never saw it and by the time it caught my toe, it was already too late and I was on my way down. Total wipeout with a pack of runners behind me, to boot. My hands slid across the asphalt, tearing the skin up as I tried to use my momentum and roll through it. I laid back on the ground after getting reoriented as a group of 4 runners were all trying to jump out of my way and not wipeout themselves. Among other things, how embarrassing!!

I got back up and everyone was asking if I was okay, which I was, and I continued to trudge on, now totally out of the game mentally. The last 4ish miles were just annoying; I couldn't run fast, I didn't feel well, and I just wanted to be done. It was the first time I've really felt total apathy during a race. I wasn't really hurt, but was scratched up and bleeding a bit and had lost all my oomph and motivation to finish strong. Not my proudest moment and something to learn from, no doubt.

The last quarter mile of the race goes nearly straight downhill before turning onto the beach, finishing with 100 yards of sand. My attempt at my trademark finishing leap was hilariously bad, but I was relieved to be done and finally lick my wounds. Heather was there at the finish, and I was pretty hard on myself about how my race fell apart at about mile 65 of 70.3. All in all it wasn't a terrible race and I will be sure to make the most of the lessons learned this race as I continue to develop my mental and physical capabilities as a triathlete.

Next race is Ironman Louisville on October 15th - my first and only full this year, so training resumes!




Final Breakdown:
Swim: 14:43 (750m)
T1: 4:46
Bike: 2:46:01
T2: 2:18
Run: 2:11:27
Total: 5:19:14