I think it was the promise of a flat, fast course than enticed me to sign up for Diamondman for my first half. It’s not far from DC, easy drive up, and a lake swim. Not a bad set up, or so it looked.
Race day really started the night before. In retrospect I should’ve taken a melatonin or a benadryl or something, but I got I think maybe 2 hours of sleep. This could be a large factor in the time of the race and why I couldn’t get my heart rate to stay up, but more on that later.
So, up at 4-something, out the door finally at 5:45. Made it in just fine, got the bike out, topped off the tires, lubed the chain, and hauled myself down to transition. Set up there was easy, they had everything marked off well, and it all fit down just fine. As I laid stuff out I went over the mental process of moving from one sport to the next, and got it all down. My main focus for transition this time was to make sure I took my bike gloves off. I think both of my last two races I’d forgotten to do that, so kept reminding myself as I laid stuff out.
Race meeting was quick, details were easy, And we walked down the 1/4 mile to the swim start. The swim was in Lum’s Pond, a not-particularly tasty body of water that was nonetheless not bad to swim in. Good wind cover, no waves, good deal. Because of the distance, and because we had to run along a major road to get to the real transition, they let us set up a mini-transition with shoes in which to run over. This was an excellent thing as far as I’m concerned as I’m mostly blind without my glasses, so it gave me a good excuse to leave my sunglasses there as well.
There were three waves for the long course (aka “1/2 Ironman,” but without the trademark sponsorship), and a single wave for the sprint race they were also running. The women all went first, then men to 39, then men 40+ and the relay teams (where three people do one sport each). After the women were off, they put us out in the water. It was 78 in the pond, so wet-suit legal, but at the high end, so I declined to wear my wetsuit. Were it a sleeveless model it might’ve been fine, but I just knew I’d be too warm otherwise.
The guy called out go, and we went. I was toward the back, and forgot to hit my stopwatch until about a minute in. The first few minutes were tough, but I was doing freestyle at the beginning (I’d not swam an entire race through – I’ve always ended up doing side stroke or flipping over on my back, much to my annoyance). Then for some reason breakfast decided that it needed to be burped up (probably swallowing water/air while I breathed). Well, honestly, that just sucked because I couldn’t catch a breath, and ended up doing side stroke and flipping on my back. Until I was finally able to burp it up somewhere around half way through. It was bad enough one of the kayaks came over to check on me. Oy. It was bad enough that I was asking myself why I do these triathlon things instead of nice sensible things like duathlons where there’s no water involved. In other words, it just stunk on ice.
Then we turned around at the end buoys (it was an out-and-back swim course) and it was like I was in a totally different race. I did freestyle, I was zipping along much more quickly than I had been, and I was pretty darn relaxed. I could feel my heart rate coming down from the panic of the first half, and thought, you know, maybe this isn’t all bad. Now if only it could have been like that for the first half, too. Something more to work on.
Got my tevas and sunglasses, and hoofed it over to transition. Popped in, got my stuff, rinsed my feet to get into the bike shoes, and off I went. From the first, the bike was So Much More Pleasant than the swim. My heart rate was lower than I expected, for the most part my speed was higher than what I had expected. It kicked ass. Even the bridge we had to go over (and return across) with the slow, mile-long incline wasn’t that bad. I loved this bike ride, it was definitely my favorite of any race now. Loved coming off the bridge into a nice wildlife refuge, then looking across the water at the iconic shape of a nuclear plant cooling tower.
Oh, and note to the guy who passed me twice and whom I passed twice and left in the dust at the end, if you’re as slow as I am, that fancy teardrop shaped helmet probably isn’t doing you any good and is just keeping your head warmer than my vented helmet. Just sayin’.
Transition went well (aside from the tool next to me who racked his bike under the rack and on top of my stuff. jerk). I did remember to get the gloves off, and picked everything I should. Slathered myself with sunscreen as it was starting to get warm and ran out, posed for a quick picture for BC, then made a b-line for the port-a-johns before heading out on the run course.
It was in many ways a cruel beginning. I wanted to keep my heart rate down at the start, but it wasn’t having much of that. And it didn’t want to be comfortable in the ranges I normally run in. Not good. We had to run around the camp ground where transition was set up and where we parked, so had this big mile or so loop before heading out to the main course, mostly in the sun, with little shade. Did some walking, no biggie, then ran across the street to run down the main drag (with off and on shade), then walked and ran to the mile 2 marker and aid station. All this time I was trying to figure out where my heart rates would let me run, since they didn’t want to go up with serious nausea, and it ended up taking me quite a while on the run to find out where my limits were.
After mile 2 was a downhill to the main course, the C&O canal towpath up in Delaware. Now, the part at the top and the slope was in shade, but once you hit the canal itself, you were in direct sun, with no shade whatsoever. And it was probably around 87 or so, while the sun reflected nicely up off the light dirt. For a mile or two I was afraid this was going to become the Diamondman Death March. Suddenly the presence of an aid station at every mile marker seemed to take on much, much more sense. It was hot, sunny, and slow.
Thankfully around mile 4 or so we began to get some clouds blowing in which proceeded to cover the sun for most of the remaining race for me. The wind also picked up, which gave us a nice breeze off the canal. But it was still far too hot to be comfortable. I am very glad I brought along my hand-held water bottle. That allowed me to sip water at my own pace rather than gulping once a mile. Much easier on the stomach. After the turn around I did try some Gatorade (which I never do during a race – don’t like the stuff). I had looked at my arm, which had a nice build up of salt. Took a sample on a finger, took a taste to check it. Nothing like the taste of sunblock and salt. Yuck.
Finally found a grove around mile 6 or so, with a good (if low) heart rate than allowed me to sort of run. I think I ended up doing abysmally slow 15+ minute miles. Not quite the death march, but close.
On the road into the campground I got a lot of thumbs up from folks leaving with their stuff. The run back around the campground was moderately better than the first time around in terms of ratio to running and walking, but still disappointing. Rounded the corner (forgot to flip my race number around), through the chute, and off to the nurse to get checked while she took my chip. Grabbed one last thing of Gatorage (it was there and cold) and choked it down. I just hate sports drinks, especially after a race when I’m all sugared out from the nutrition that’s the norm at these things.
Total time, somewhere around 7:35 from the finish clock (we popped in 5 minutes after the official start, and the clock showed 7:40). I’ll get the real time on Tuesday when they post results.
I think it’s a good thing that I scheduled a sprint for a month from now. That’ll give me a nice, relaxed end to the season. Doing this race certainly gave me a better appreciation for the long course and the training needs involved. I’ll do another, but not any time soon.