Back in August, I did two half-iron triathlons in a three-week span, and both are worthy of at least a brief race report. They were:
- Challenge New Albany (OH) – One of the Roth Challenge company’s inaugural forays into North America (Roth is a major competitor to the Ironman brand, but hasn’t had much of a North American presence until now).
- Ironman 70.3 Steelhead (St. Joseph MI) – My third time doing this race was unexpectedly difficult, not just for me but for just about everyone I know who did it. It was still a good day, though.
Prologue
18 days out from my “A” race for the year (Challenge Atlantic City, a full iron-distance tri), I came down with the cold-from-hell-that-becomes-hellacious-sinus-infection that has been striking down people all summer. I had only been antibiotic-free for three days when race-day came, so had to eat the entry fee and not participate. I lost three full weeks of training, so basically had to regroup and figure out what to do with the rest of the season. Do I give up on the iron-distance this year and relax a bit, or do I pick another one and plan the race/training schedule around that? Being a masochist, I signed up for the Redman in September, a full-iron distance in Oklahoma City.
Recovering from this “cold” proved to be challenging, and not exactly motivating to train hard, so I signed up for some events that would force me to get out the door and put out the effort. Besides, the Challenge brand of triathlons is well-respected in Europe, and since I had missed out on Atlantic City, I was still curious as to what their events were like. As fate would have it, one of their few North American events happened to be in a suburb of…Columbus, Ohio? Hmmm ok, that’s a bit odd, but it’s an easy drive from Indianapolis, so why not? Turns out that New Albany is a small little community that has chosen to bet its future on attracting things related to a healthy lifestyle, and has embraced the idea of being exercise-friendly. Who knew?
The event was an existing race that the Challenge people bought and adapted to their purposes. It was a smaller event, with around 275 people doing the half-iron distance, the same number doing the Olympic distance. The expo was small but quite adequate, with anything athletes might need.
This was a two-transition race. What this means is that the race starts at one location with the swim-to-bike transition there, the bike ride ends in a different location and the bike-to-run transition is located there. In this case, T1 was about 25 miles away from T2 (which was near the finish). This meant that we had to get our bikes to T1 on Saturday, the day before the race, then catch a shuttle bus race morning, dragging along everything else for the bike ride. After picking up my packet from check-in, I finally found transition after going to the incorrect address I was given. Apparently several flocks of Canadian geese had found it as well. There was a very healthy supply of nature’s fertilizer to step over. Oh joy. They really couldn’t hire a dog for the couple of days previous to keep the area clear? Stepping into goose poo on the way INTO the water wouldn’t be a problem, but I sure didn’t want to step on any coming OUT of the water, then pull on a sock and jam it into a bike shoe. Bleah. Oh well. It is what it is. Dodged the poo, found my spot, racked my bike, and went in search of dinner.
Race Day – New Albany
Early-morning logistics were a bit of a pain, since this was a two-transition race. After dropping off the run gear at our spot in T2, we had to pile onto buses headed for T1. Everyone was half-asleep, carrying a wetsuit, a bag with bike shoes/sunglasses/helmet/all the fluids for the bike/etc., stumbling around in the dark. After waiting for what seemed like forever (and realizing we had forfeited an extra 30 minutes of sleeping time for no good reason), all the buses pulled away in a convoy. I really hoped the lead driver was given better information than I had been given, or all the buses would be exploring the perimeter of the reservoir just like I had done.
Apparently the drivers had the correct address, but their directions were lacking. After a wrong turn, the convoy of buses got turned around and headed in the right direction. We all just laughed in between yawns, figuring they couldn’t start the race if all the athletes were lost on buses. Ha.
The rest of the day was snafu-free, and things went very smoothly. The swim was uneventful, in nice calm water that was just cool enough to be wetsuit-legal, but not so cool as to be shocking. It was very easy to sight, as it went up and down along the coast. If you weren’t seeing the coast on the correct side, then you had a problem. Once again, it was very easy to find my bike, since most of the planet swims faster than I do. I managed to dodge the poo at least long enough to get my feet into my bike shoes. (I have no idea what I stepped in on the way out of transition.) The bike course started out with very reasonable hills and decent roads, as promised. Around mile 20 or so, the Olympic distance triathletes turned off to head directly to T2, and we half-distance folks continued onward.
…and boy did it get hilly! There was a lot more chip seal roughness to deal with, and the hills seemed to get steeper and steeper. When someone would pass me on a hill, we’d commiserate about how much hillier this was than expected, and just laugh about it. It was definitely much harder than advertised, but a beautiful course.
After a fair amount of swearing up some hills, I finally got to transition and happily got off the bike. This transition was very long, and we had to walk the bike for what seemed like a quarter mile. Got quickly changed and headed out for the run. The weather had been cooperating all day, staying dry but with cloud cover keeping it from getting too hot, but it was starting to look threatening by the time us slow folks got out on the run course. After some mist, it finally rained a few times, enough to cool everyone down, then stopped. I know I wasn’t the only one that didn’t mind the small amount of rain.
Finished, collected my bling, rinsed off and put on some dry clothes, then went to the Starbucks near the finish line for a celebratory latte. The race included a decent dinner afterwards, which was greatly appreciated. It was nice to skip the search for food, and start the drive home fully caffeinated and on a full stomach.
The Roth Challenge series promises an inclusive experience, and delivers on that promise. They want everyone to finish, and don’t mind waiting for us slower folks. It’s nice to have the promised support at the finish, no matter how late. (By the way, I was not the last person to finish. Managed to catch and pass about a dozen people on the run, and there were several behind me coming out of transition.) Another successful day!
New Albany – The Verdict
Course: Beautiful Swag: Nice shirt and medal Logistics: Good Support: Very good Volunteers: Wonderfully encouraging Recommended: Yes!
Race Day – Steelhead
By now I had FINALLY started feeling 100% and like my normal self in workouts, so I was expecting a better day with less struggle. Up to this point, almost every workout and race had felt like slogging through deep water, a constant grind, and harder than it should have been. I was looking forward to finally racing at full health. I've done Steelhead twice before, and like the course. There were quite a few of us from Indianapolis that were racing, and it was nice to have the group support.
Once again, I got lucky with Lake Michigan, and there were no dangerous currents or crazy cold temps. The water was chilly, but not miserable. It was colder than I would have preferred (don't remember the actual temp), however, and took forever for my heart rate to slow down so that I could settle into a decent swim. There were swells, much like the ocean, which most of us are not used to, and quite a few people had to fight off panic. For me, I just couldn't get the heart rate down, and looking around at others who were struggling, did a mental check to make sure the pounding heart was physical and not mental. Nope, not panicking, just can't get the body to relax. Well, it HAS to slow down sometime in the next 1.2 miles.
Eventually it did, but by that time my swim time was completely in the toilet. Oh well, finish, get out, and enjoy the rest of the day. I like the bike course here, and the weather is holding out with clouds keeping the heat at bay. Gonna be a nice day.
Had a good bike ride, and lolly-gagged the first 28 miles, enjoying the smooth roads and the scenery. Picked it up a bit for the second half, and enjoyed the long downhill/tailwind back to transition.
Left for the run as the pros were coming back to finish, and admired their running form and their bodies (not in that order). Was expecting a better run, but quickly realized that I just wasn't going to be able to run/trot as much as usual. Wasn't sure why, but looking around, everyone seemed to be feeling the same way. Finally realized that the clouds had dissipated, resulting in a hot, very humid afternoon. The hot heavy air seemed to affect all of the runners, so I was in good company with many many walk breaks.
(Note: It has been an unusually cool summer here in the Midwest, so none of us are heat-conditioned. Indianapolis had the coolest July on record.)
Mustered up a trot to the finish and was happy to head to a shower! Though this one was harder than I expected, it made me extremely grateful for good health and the ability to even do this stuff. I felt a little better about it when I heard other people saying they'd had a tougher-than-expected day too. Bad ju-ju? Who knows. But every finish is a success to celebrate, and I was just happy to be there.
