Superfrog 34, aka Lance Vs. The Panda

First I would just like to say that this was the first out of town race that I actually had people there as a support crew.  Two of my friends from my Tri-club had come along to cheer myself and another member on during our racej and I can't tell you how much of a difference it makes knowing there are people there specifically to cheer you on.  To Kim and Evan, thank you for coming to support us.

Superfrog 34, a Half Iron Distance race said to be one of the toughest courses in triathlon.  166h 34m 13s-2883.81 Mi cycling, 128h 47m 25s-786.18 Mi running, 22h 51m 52s-75679.41 Yd swimming this year all leading up to this moment.  Granted the last few months were pretty much on the down slope as I was suffering from some pretty severe burn out.  My volume was ridiculously small in August and September leading up to this race.  All I could do is hope that my overall volume and fitness would carry me through to the end...

It's the day before the race and I head down to Coronado early to watch the F1 Triathlon and pick up my race packet.  A lovely 2 hour drive later I miss the beginning of the F1 but show up in time to watch the 2nd round as the athletes head back out into the swim.  This particular format is a super sprint distance of swim, bike, run, swim, bike, run.  http://www.f1tri.com/

After the race is over I mosey on over to pick up my packet and realize that they have me starting in the wrong wave.  I was issued a gold cap and am now starting with the pros and elites?  I don't usually get too nervous before a race but this meant I was going to start with Lance Armstrong and the media circus that was there to watch him. All I could think about was that every time I'd make a lap the announcer would say, "And there's number 14, James... who?  Wow, he must be having a terrible day on the course as he's way behind the rest of the elites!"

Luckily later that night after sharing my living nightmare with my team mates and a couple beers I actually feel a little better. And those of you who know me know that I rarely ever drink these days so these two beers leave me feeling pretty good. We have a great pre-race dinner at Filippi's Pizza Grotto.  Wow... the sauce here is amazing.  If you ever have a chance to get down to San Diego I highly suggest having dinner here.  Just make sure you get there early because it was crowded with a line out the door.  Anyways, a nice dinner with friends helps to put me at ease and I head over to my friend's house where I am staying for the night to get some rest.

I can't remember if this is before or after the two beers but I'm obviously feeling a little better.

I wake up early the next morning around 2 am to start my pre-race rituals.  I make two cups of coffee while eating some left over lasagna from the night before and get to re-checking my gear.  A quick shower and I'm ready to grab my stuff and head out by 4:15 am.  It's a fast 20 minute drive to the race site and I'm unloaded and headed into transition.  I'm happy to see we have assigned rack spots and I happen to be right in front with Lance Armstrong about 10 feet down the rack from me... Great.

It's about this time that I realize that along with the elites and pros the relay teams will also be going in this wave so it takes some pressure off me mentally.  I walk around a bit and check the transition area entrances and exits for each leg.  Visualizing how I'm going to handle each transition.  I then make my way down the beach to check out the surf as I'm really hoping it's calmer than the day before.

How's this for calm...

One guy here in the yellow swim cap, arms crossed and the look on his face is saying, "No way am I going out in that!"

This was one of the toughest swims I've ever done.  Trying to swim out in these conditions was pretty difficult.  The whole time in my head all I can do is imagine Turtle from, "North Shore" saying, "You gotta duck dive!" the whole time.

 Oh and the exit wasn't much easier.  Coming back in I was in a pack of about 5 athletes and we're approaching shore when a wave crushes us from behind.  I have never felt panic like that on a swim.  The shear force of the wave was intense.  While I survive the onslaught it sends a tremble of fear through me.  Once I make it back to shore for this two lap swim, the only thought in my head is, "I have to do that again?"
The entire second lap all I can think about is the exit and finally getting out of the water for good and onto the bike.  I'm happy to say the second exit ended up not being nearly as bad as I was much more cautious this time.
Swim: 41:55 - Not even close to my fastest swim times, but for the difficulty of this swim I'm just glad I finished.


The bike portion of this race is where I'm most comfortable.  My transition goes smoothly (I still need to learn how to mount with my shoes on the bike) and I'm out on the course in 1:56, one of my faster transitions ever.

One of the advantages of going out with the elite wave is the earlier start time.  By the time I make it on the bike course it's still early and the wind which is notorious on this course has not yet manifested itself and luckily won't show up until the backside of my three out of four laps.   I'm finishing up lap two when I finally see my friend Delia on the bike.  This is quite a relief as she isn't the strongest swimmer and I was really hoping she had made it through.  She was a real trooper and kicked much butt through out this race.  The only other real noteworthy event is that Lance Armstrong laps me before I finish my first lap.
Bike: 02:47:20 - 20 mph average over 56 miles, I will definitely take it.

T2 goes similar to T1, smooth.  I'm out of my bike shoes coming down the chute and make a fantastic dismount and run barefoot into my rack. The only thing I think I could have done is washed some of the sand off my feet and put on socks.  This will come back to haunt me later... T2 2:26 seconds because I had to stop and pee before I left T2 (seriously that was probably about 2 minutes of peeing)

The run... One word, "BRUTAL."  Everyone, even Lance says afterwards that this was one of the hardest runs he's ever had to do.  Previous years say that the course is 6 miles of soft sand running.  Earlier this year they announce a course change with only 2 miles of soft sand going out, and the return 2 miles coming back in. All I can think is, "YES!"  4 miles of soft sand sounds great!  Not so much.  I start off the run thinking to take it easy the first 2 miles of sand and then pick it up a bit once I get to the trail portion of the course.  Mile 2 passes and I don't see the end of the sand in site and I have to admit it is a little disheartening but I continue with my slog through the sand keeping around a 10-11mm pace at this point.

I finally make it through the first sand portion which ended up being just under 3 miles and onto the trail.  I pick up the pace just a tad here going about 9:30mm for the next 2 miles.  And then I fall apart.  My legs die on me right about here and at the same time I start to develop blisters from all the sand in my shoes and cuts all around my left ankle from the sand that has gotten stuck to the rim of my shoe.  with the discomfort of the blisters and cuts and the fatigue on top, I start to go 5 minutes of jogging/ 1 minute of walking just to try and gather myself up and it seems to be working.  It's about mile 6 or 7 when another friend shows up behind me cheering me on and trying to get me to pick up the pace and finish strong.  I'm able to pick it up for a bit but in the end I think this actually hurts me more as I'm running much faster than I should be and expending a lot of energy.  I eventually have to tell him to go on without me and I try to go back to my 5/1 ratio.  At this point everyone is passing me.  We hit mile 9 and we're headed back onto the sand and I hear the guy in front of me ask the volunteer, "How much in sand?"  She answers, "About 4 miles"  4 miles!?  It was supposed to be 4 miles of sand running total, and now I need to do 4 MORE miles in sand?  My heart just drops out of my chest and at this point it's all I can do to just shuffle through.  The sand continues to rip into my feet I can see blood soaking the rim of my shoe from the open cuts.  All I can think is, "If I can do "X" minute mile pace I can finish in under 6 hours..."  

I try to slog it out but it's no use as that pace just isn't sustainable for me and I don't have anything left in my legs.  I finally get out to some hard packed sand as the tide has gone out and still shuffle along about 12mm pace.  I'm about a 1/4 mile out when I see my friends running from the corner of my eye to come cheer me on.  This gives me the little boost I need to finish strong and I pick it and try to put on a happy face as I trudge down the finish chute.

Run: 2:38:09 - My slowest half marathon, half iron distance run.  I survived but definitely wasn't pretty.

Overall time: 06:11:46 ten minutes faster than my last Half Iron and this was on a much harder course.  I'll take it.  Ranked 40th in my AG, 219 overall.

I know this is a long recap but it was definitely the hardest race I've ever done.  For those of you who actually read the entire thing, this is your reward.  A little Nopal Gangam Style.

The big day

Yesterday was a long day.  I arrived at Lake Cahuilla early enough to catch the finish of the sprint distance race and watch my friend and team mate from LB Tri go out on the run.  My plan had been to hang out at the park and check out the expo all day then head into the city to stay with a friend of a friend who offered to put me up for the night.

Unfortunately the expo consisted of three vendors.  It wasn’t enough to entertain me for the rest of the afternoon while I waited to check in my bike and pick up my race packet.  I watched some of the race and walked around a bit… possibly too much walking as later in the afternoon the back of my knees felt like they were tightening up on me.  Not to mention the winds were picking up bringing with it a chill in the air. 

By the time four thirty rolled around and I started setting up my transition area it was really getting cold.  I had also been walking around for the last six hours so I was feeling a bit tired as well.  The sun was beginning to set and being the cold was really starting to bite.

The race director was trying to get through the mandatory meeting as soon as possible so we could all get out of there and get some much needed rest.  The meeting was fairly quick with only a few questions being asked by my fellow participants. 

I was going to drive the course after the meeting but the sun was already setting and all I wanted to do was get some dinner and go to bed.  My plan was to find a little Italian place along Highway 111 to get something in my belly, failing that I knew there was an Olive Garden further down that I could get something quick that wouldn’t upset my stomach.

Well after driving a while down 111 and not finding anything that really stuck out, I ended up at the OG.  After I sat down and ordered, I texted my friend’s friend to find out if she was ready for me to arrive.  I received a reply that while she was ready, I ended up being bumped to the couch because of a family issue that had come up and she ended up having her entire family at the house for the next couple weeks.

This wasn’t going to work for me.  My anxiety was already somewhat high with my goal being just hours away.  Luckily I always have a back up plan.  I whipped out my trusty phone and dialed up the Shat (Priceline), and proceeded to find a hotel in the area.

It took a couple tries but I ended up at the Hyatt in Palm Springs, not too far out.  GPS says it should have been about thirty to forty minutes out.  Little did I know that Palm Springs was having its annual Christmas parade that shut down the exact area I needed to get to.  What was a half hour drive ended up being about 1 ½ hours due to traffic, detours and about eleventy billion people walking down the middle of the street.  Luckily I hit the tail end of the parade otherwise I may have been sitting in my truck forever.

By the time I pulled into the hotel parking lot my anxiety was through the roof and my patience had completely worn out.  The valet probably thought I was on some good drugs because I know I wasn’t making sense and the ability to form complete sentences had left me a stammering idiot.  I had planned on being in bed by eight o’clock-ish so I could wake up by three to get ready… it was already after nine and I really needed to get to bed.

After a quick run in a gaggle of drunken seniors in the hotel lobby I finally made it up to the room. Nice digs, cheap price tag.  Thanks Bill.  Anyways, I unload my gear and start laying everything out for tomorrow.  After a quick shower, I go through the race packet and start putting on my race tats (numbers). Volunteers armed with sharpies would normally mark you up the morning of the race, but this is something new.  I wish someone had told me that once they get put on, no matter how much you scrub its going to take a week for them to come off.

So with race tats on and my gear laid out for the morning I set my phone alarm and the hotel clock alarm to wake me up at three a.m. and go into the other room to roll out and wind down by watching a little HIMYM.  By the time I’m all settled down it’s already after ten.  I’m beat and sleep can’t come soon enough.

Three a.m.  It feels like I just went to bed.  I’d love to sleep a few more hours but it’s about that time.  Time to get up.  I’m in desperate need of coffee.  Unfortunately the only thing available and easily accessible is the crappy hotel room coffee.   I start it brewing and head to the bathroom to start getting ready.

I splash some water on my face and look at myself in the mirror.  I haven’t even had breakfast yet and the blender of emotions is starting to kick in.  I’m a little nervous, excited and scared but somewhere in the back of it all I feel calm.  I know how hard I’ve worked.  I’ve put in the grueling hours and buckets of sweat.  I can do this.

I have the usual breakfast of a banana sandwiched between two toaster waffles and some Justin’s Chocolate Almond Butter and wash it down with a couple glasses of water and two cups of coffee.  I proceed to get suited up in my superman gear and roll out one more time since my legs still feel a little tight from the day before and then grab my gear and head out the door.

Amazingly I make it over to the HITS horse park before the first shuttle leaves.  As those who have driven with me know, I’m completely dependant on my GPS and without it I’d get lost trying to back up out of my driveway.   I grab my transition bag out of my truck and climb into the shuttle.  There are only a couple seats left so I go for the last one on the right, accidentally stepping on someone’s foot on the way there and settle in for the quick trip to T1.

The rest of the morning leading up to the race flies by and before I know it, it’s almost time to go when I hear “Long Beach!”  I look up and my buddy Vinny from the LB Tri is there to pick up his trailer from the day before.  Vinny raced the Olympic distance and ended up leaving his trailer there because he didn’t feel like driving it back with the wind picking up the night before. 

There were no words to describe how good it felt to have someone there.  It was like a giant weight I didn’t know was even there had been lifted off my shoulders.  It really was amazing to have moral support on the course.  I couldn’t thank him enough for being there to watch the race. 

About fifteen minutes from the start I slip into my wetsuit and take in my pre-race gel.  I casually make my way down to the swim start, my feet already starting to ache from the cold.  Somehow Vinny beats me down to the lake and we chat it up for a bit.  I contemplate getting in the water to get the shock from the cold out of the way but it’s still a little early and I don’t want to have to get out and then stand around freezing before the start.

By the time I actually slip into the water the race director calls everyone over for a small pre-race talk.  Good timing.  After the talk I make my way over the starting area.  My plan is to stick to the outside, stay out of the blender and just get in a nice groove.  My plan works really well on the way out as I didn’t have to sight much, just swam directly into the sun.  By the time I round the buoy at the halfway point I end up in the middle of the pack.  There are elbows flying and bumping going on either side of me as I tried to swim a straight line back into shore.  I’m also sure the same person was on my feet the whole way back in as well because I kept feeling someone grabbing my feet.

I didn’t let it bother me though.  Just concentrated on having a nice even stroke, although sighting on the way back in was a little tougher as there weren’t really any distinguishable landmarks going back in.  It wasn’t until I actually exited the water that I realized that my hands and feet were numb.  I was having such kind of a rough time out of the water so I just ended up walking the short way up from the beach.

Into T1 it took me a while to get my wetsuit off as I couldn’t use my fingers to grip it.  Once I actually had it down around my waist it was easy enough to get off though.  Trying to put socks on wet, numb feet with numb hands was quite a task.  T1 took me just over six minutes, which in hindsight I was actually ok with.  While I would have like to be faster through this transition I’m glad I took my time as it helped get some feeling back into my hands and feet.

Once I got onto the bike course everything turned to gold.  The wind stayed down, my cadence was high and the course was fast.  At mile four the urge to pee hit me as it always does whenever I finish a swim.  In my mind though, I decided there was no way I was going to stop.  The night before I had decided that I would hit the turn around on the bike before the wind picked up, so that I would have a good tailwind on the longest stretch of the course possible.  Somewhere about the two hour mark I found myself singing, “Moves like Jagger.”  That was a rough hour.

There were a few tricky turns here and there with the sand that had blown onto the course over the night but all in all I had a great ride up until mile fifty.  That’s when I heard that familiar line from Top Gun reverberating in my skull.  “The defense department regrets to inform you that your sons are dead because they were stupid. “

Just a few weeks before the race I had been playing with the cleat position on my bike shoes.  I never really took the time to dial it in though so by race day it was still just a bit off.  Once I hit mile fifty though, I felt the twinge of my IT band creeping up on me and the familiar ache in my knee.

By the time I made it back into transition the urge to pee was so great I couldn’t think of anything else.  I racked my bike, threw off my riding gear, threw on my running shoes and headed straight for the porta-potty.  On the way there the RD was exiting one of them and stopped to shake my hand.  All I could say was, “Porta-Potty!”  I’m pretty sure I yelled this pretty loudly too as I quickly ran by him to relieve myself after spending just under 3 hours on the bike.

Starting out on the run I felt great.  The first two miles I was running under eight minute miles, which for me I knew would be too fast so I had to dial it back to about ten minute miles if I was going to survive the run without blowing up.  By the time I made it to mile five the ache in my knee came back.  Up to this point I was on pace to beat my goal time of six hours by at least fifteen minutes.  Once I had to start fighting the pain in my knee however it slowed my pace down considerably. 

My original plan on the run was to go ten minute miles on the first six and a half miles and then negative split it and run nine minute miles or so on the way back depending on how I felt.  Unfortunately the pain in my knee slowed me down to about eleven minute miles as I tried to switch up my gait to alleviate some of the pain that was building in my knee.

I knew at this point there was no way I would make my original goal of coming in under six hours.  In a way I felt defeated but after all the hard work I had put in, there was no way I would let this stop me.  I could only fight the pain for so long however as by mile nine the pain overtook me and I had to shuffle walk/jog the rest of the way in.

I still remember the hearing Vinny and Nidia shouting at me as I was running up to the finish.  I couldn’t believe they had stayed the entire six plus hours just to watch me cross.  Vinny would later say, “That’s what teammates do.”  I still can’t find the right words to thank him though.

The feeling of defeat I had earlier on the run vanished.  The only thing I could feel was happy.  I did it.  I crossed that line.  I had gone from pre-diabetic, to losing over sixty pounds and literally went from zero to half iron man in less than ten months.

If there is anything that I’ve learned from 2011, it’s that the only limits you have are those you place on yourself.  With dedication, hard work and drive you can accomplish anything.

To all my teammates from LB Tri and all of my friends, family and MFPeeps, I dedicate my story to you.  I couldn’t have done this if it weren’t for all of you who continued to inspire and drive me every single day.

In the beginning...

It was February 2010.  I woke up that morning and had a slight pain in my abdomen.  I shrugged it off and thought, “Maybe it’s just some indigestion.”  I continued about my morning and showed up to work early like I always do.  By this time the pain had increased steadily and now it was a blinding, throbbing pain in my gut.  It felt like someone was stabbing me in the side.  I wrote a quick email informing my supervisor that I’d be going home and left while I was still able to drive.

I got home and hoped that maybe a little nap would make me feel better.  I thought it would pass and I’d feel better if I could just sleep through the worst of the pain.  I was wrong.  I ended up having my brother drive me to the emergency room.  Luckily it was near by. 

As soon as I walked in and described the pain I was having they pretty much knew exactly what it was.  Gallstone Pancreatitis.  Apparently they get about 5-6 of these a day.  During the initial exam the nurse asked me if I was diabetic.  Quizzically I said, “No?”   She replied, “You will be fine,” and left the room.  Its funny she said this because somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it.  I had been looking up the symptoms of diabetes on the internet for a while and a lot of what I was going through fit.  Having the nurse confirm it was just the final nail in the coffin.

I spent a long 4 days in the hospital and by the time I got out I had lost 20 pounds.  I believe it was mostly water weight, since I wasn’t able to eat anything and could barely drink anything while I was in there.  It was this weight loss that got me started.  I figured if I could keep off these 20 pounds and by eating healthy then I’d be ok.  Right?  Wrong… As soon as I started eating normal food again the 20 pounds came right back on.  But I wasn’t about to give up. 

I kept trying to eat healthier and before I knew it, it was January.  I don’t think I had actually lost any weight by this time.  In fact I was probably at my heaviest.  My best guesstimate would be 260-270 lbs.  I realized that I needed to actually start doing something.  I needed to find a way to track what I was eating and I needed to start working out again.

In February of 2011 I started tracking my calorie intake on an app I found for my phone.  This is the catalyst that jump started my weight loss and got me motivated.  I started seeing immediate results in the first few weeks of eating right and actually tracking what I was eating.  I immediately felt better.  Now I just need to find a way to start being more active.

I decided then that I’d start walking on my lunch breaks.  It started out by walking about 40 minutes a day at lunch.  I did this for about a couple weeks before I started walking to and from work as well for a total of just about 8 miles a day.  I even got motivated enough to walk on the weekends too.  I’d wake up and walk 5 miles up and down the river trail by my house on the weekends.  It was great.  I’d see all the runners and cyclists go by and I’d wish I could do that.

I bought a bike and started riding the trail on the weekends.  It was a Specialized Crosstrail Hybrid.  I would ride the trail from home out to the beach and back every weekend.  Roughly 44 miles round trip and it would take me somewhere between 3-4 hours depending on the wind.

After a couple weekends of this I decided I wanted to be a runner too.  I started C25K on March 15 and committed myself to finishing it.  I wanted to be able to run a 5k so much I signed up for my first 5k on March 27.  I finished in 34:25.

That 5K ended up being my gateway drug. I figured hell I’m riding every weekend, and just ran a 5k, why not start swimming and I could do a triathlon!  I signed up for my first tri.  The San Bernardino Sunset Rotary TinMan Triathlon on June 26.  It was a reverse mini-sprint on the CSSB campus.  I had to make sure that my first tri had a pool swim since my swimming was still a little shaky.  I could do only do about 100 meters at a time by this point.  And having to swim after running a 5k and biking 9 miles and out of breath was tougher than I imagined.

I decided that I needed to be faster.  I had so much fun that there was no way to hold me back at this point.  I started swimming at 4 AM every morning 5-6 days a week, running 3-4 days a week and riding 2 times during the week and getting in my long ride on the weekends. 

Not long after I ended up hooking up with the guys from LB Tri and I’m glad I did.  They are an amazing group of people that helped motivate me.  A few more sprints, a half marathon and hours of training have brought me here…