This is probably going to be a little long but hell, it's my blog and it was a long day so here we go.
Ironman Buffalo Springs....a certain fear comes with that phrase for the unindoctrinated. When you tell someone your doing this race, you usually get a definitive response. No one really is luke warm on this race. As a result, from the perspective of someone who had not done the race, it really creates alot of anxiety leading up to the event. I have had a fairly busy race schedule which has helped to take my mind off of BSLT but over the past few weeks it has weighed heavily on my mind.
Friday:
My wife and I left Dallas on Friday afternoon for Lubbock. I wanted to sleep in on Saturday and have a relaxing day before the race. We were able to get to Lubbock in time to pick up my packet Friday night. No one was there and I was able to walk right in and get my packet. We walked around the expo for a little bit. I spent some time talking to a couple who owned the Velocity Bike Shop in Lubbock. They were great to talk to and gave me the run down on the bike course. I was hoping the Ironman store would sell the Ironman racing kits with the Buffalo Springs logo but no such luck.
Windmills outside of Sweetwater on the way to Lubbock
Saturday:
I was planning on heading to the race site to swim a little bit and ride the bike in the late morning after they completed the sprint and olympic races. There was a big time storm that blew in during the morning. Jeff (my coach) and Doug (aka The Ghost) were down at the race site watching the Sprint. A friend of mine that is racing with me in a couple of weeks, Gabriella, was racing the Sprint. A huge dust storm rolled in followed by a torrential rain storm. The race officials pulled Gabriella from the course for safety reasons. The scene at the hotel was pretty crazy looking out the window. I called Jeff and asked him if he was still down there and he told me what was going on. It was nuts. After lunch, I drove out to the course and rode the sprint bike course. The hills getting out of the canyon are steep and you have to be geared right once you leave transition as the first hill is on you immediately. My ride went pretty well but it was hot. Probably 98 degrees but I didn't really feel it much until I stopped. I grabbed my wetsuit and headed to the lake for a quick swim. The boats and jet skis were going crazy in the lake and it was very choppy. I forgot my goggles but decided to go ahead and do a few hundred yards without them. I didn't have my spray or body glide to help get my suit on and it didn't go on very well. As a result, everything was uncomfortable and hard to move. I was not in a great place mentally and this made me more nervous. I probably should have just went back to the hotel but I thought a quick swim would be a good thing. Not so much. By the time I got back to the hotel, my running buddy Joe and his wife Kim were at packet pickup. Joe was doing the relay with Jeff's daughter Chloe (swim), the Ghost (bike), and he was running. We headed to Orlando's for dinner and met up with Gabriella, her friend Michelle, the race director Mike Greer, Jeff's mom and dad, Jeff, Chloe, Doug. I think that was everyone. Dinner was great. Patty and I drove around Texas Tech and then headed back to the hotel. The Rangers were on so I faded in and out watching the game.
I could not sleep at all and had the same negative dream rolling around in my head. I kept dreaming that I had to grab a buoy or a kayak and I just couldn't get around the swim course. My wetsuit was choking me and I couldn't breathe. I would wake up, calm myself down and they try to sleep again. The whole thing was just defeating. I swim thousands of yards a week. WTF and why was this happening now? Needless to say, this had a very negative effect on my pre-race mental state. At 3:30, I decided it was time to start getting ready. I took a shower and went through my transition bag and then packed all of my stuff. We were checking out of the hotel in the morning. Joe's twins go to Tech and we were going to shower at their apartment before heading back to Dallas. Joe was coming to the hotel and riding with me to the race at 5:00am. I had lots of nutrition for the bike ride and decided to wear a cycling jersey for the ride so I would have a place for everything, including my trash. If I was interested in time and efficiency, I wouldn't have bothered with changing jerseys. When I started to pack the truck, it was raining. It was pitch dark and the weather was a little indecisive on when it was going to stop. We were supposed to get a break with the temperatures but I think the rain pushed the humidity and was going to make it a really rough day.
On the way to the race
We got to the race site in about 15 minutes. There is one two laned road heading into the race area. My wave was going to take off at 6:36am and we were at least a half mile or more from the parking lot waiting to get in.
My rear view mirror blocks part of the line up the hill to the parking lot. This is also the last climb before transition on the bike ride. Parking is the shiny area in top of the picture. At this point (about 5:30am), Jeff called me and told me not to panic. He was behind me in line and promised everything would be ok. It really helped to calm me down a little and I appreciate him thinking about me. I saw at least one guy grab his gear and start riding his bike in. We went ahead and parked and walked the 9% grade down the hill to transition. We will revisit this again later. I was body marked heading into transition and searched for my rack. I was 652 and Jeff was 615 or something like that so we were in the same row. The relay crew with us were about 2 rows away. Due to the parking log jam, I really didn't have alot of down time. We made it to transition at around 6:00am and my wave left at 6:36am. I set up my transition area quickly. I had much more stuff to keep up with than usual (nutrition, Enduro Shark, tylenol, extra Skratch Lab sticks, bike jersey, vaseline, body glide to name a few). I really didn't get as organized as I needed to be. The people in the rack spots next to me took up all of the space and it was hard to find an area for my gear. I made the best of it and took off to meet up with Patty after a quick conversation with the Ghost and Joe. Patty is my official wetsuit helper. She always gets my suit on and it feels way more comfortable. Once my suit was on, I felt much calmer. I could move well and started to settle into a better place mentally. I got in the dark waters of the lake and my body popped straight up like a bobber into a flat position on the water. Perfect. I felt much better now. All of the negative thoughts throughout the night started to fade away. I found Jeff and Chloe on the beach and hung out with them until they called my wave. I was going in after the pros and the hand cycle group.
Swim:
You walk through an arch with the timing mat to activate the timing chip. Everyone lined up on the beach in my wave. Probably a couple hundred feet across and at least 4-5 deep. I wanted to start out easy and find a good rhythm. The first buoy was about 100 yards out and everyone had to make a right turn around the buoy and then you worked the course with buoys on your left the rest of the way. When they gave the signal to go, I waited about 10 seconds and then entered the water. You could walk at least half way to the first buoy and alot of people did for some reason. My wave was the 30-35 men and the over 50 men. It was a really big log jam at the first turn. This was a very civil start considering the space constraints. Imagine a couple hundred fairly equal swimmers rounding one buoy 100 yards out. Yes, it is controlled mayhem to be polite. Some grabbing and elbows but considering the number of people, it couldn't have gone any better. Buffalo Springs brings out a very experienced crowd and I think there is alot more awareness with a group like this. My line was great after the first turn. It was at least 500 yards to the next turn and I was on the inside with a direct line to the buoy. Most of the guys around me were to my right and we were all going about the same speed so I sighted off of them. I didn't really get any separation and it was crowded to the second turn. At the second turn, another log jam and the guy in front me kicked me in the nuts. He didn't mean to but it still hurt like hell. From this point on to the third turn, I found open clean water and it was great. I felt excellent and my line was great. I was probably going 75 strokes without having to sight. When your bored, you do things like count strokes. At the third turn we were on the opposite side of the lake swimming along the shore, there were not any buoys until you got to the last turn and it was a little hard to keep a good line. I'm guessing it was at least 1000 yards to the turn. When you go that far, it seems like the buoys don't get any closer no matter what you do so I tried not to look too much. I started to tire a little bit and did brief stints of a swimming walkabout with my line. Like my last open swim, some guy was really lost and started heading straight into shore and clipped me in the head on the way by. I just kept going, what can you do. At about 3/4 of the way to the last turn, the fast women in the wave behind me started to catch me. I was chicked in the water. Awesome! We hit the last turn and headed to shore. I was very relieved and knew the swim portion of the race that tortured me all night was coming to an end. Jeff's group was wearing red caps and with a couple hundred yards to go a few of those guys went by me. One looked like Jeff and I almost grabbed him. It wasn't Jeff and that would have been a really bad idea. The volunteers helped me out of the water and I looked at my watch. Something like 37 minutes. This was my best open water swim ever. It was a very good start.
As I headed into transition Joe and the Ghost were cheering me on. I asked them if Jeff beat me out of the water. I had 9 minutes on him (he was 3 waves behind me) and he is really fast so if I got out before him, I knew it was a good swim. They confirmed he wasn't out yet but it wasn't more than a minute or two later I saw him at his bike down the row.
T1: At a race of this distance, I am not punching my ticket to Vegas and have no delusions of doing so. I am going to be comfortable. I don't want my next race in two weeks ruined because I didn't take care of my body in this one. I put on a new pair of toe socks and changed into my bike jersey. I made sure I had all of my nutrition and then took off out of T1. I did forget my race belt which could have cost me a penalty but I wasn't going back for it. Slow but purposeful.
Jeff is way faster than me in transition and we left at the same time. It was the last time I would see him. He's a beast on the bike and did a pro like 2:35:00. My T1 time was 5:22 which was faster than I thought at the time.
Bike:
Kind of a log jam getting to the mount line, the rain in the morning left pooled water all over so I walked my bike about 20 feet past the mount line and got on. I was geared right thanks to all of the warnings and worked my way up one of the steepest hills on the course. Two guys ran into each other and they discussed dinner plans together and obviously didn't agree on restaurant choice. I managed the hill and sailed down the back side only to be met by another steep hill to get out of the canyon and head out of the park. My legs were really feeling it at this point but it was a good reminder to start drinking and eating. I marked the time on my watch and committed to a gel every 25 minutes, an Enduro Shark salt at the 40 mile mark and drink something every 5 minutes. I had one bottle of Accelerade, two bottles of Skratch Labs and would pick up water hand ups on the course. I was flying for the first 10 miles out to the "T" and turned south to the first climb outside the park. The wind was either from the east or north but it was helping. The downhills were great. I'm not sure what my top speed was but it was fast. Despite what I considered a good pace, I was getting passed on a pretty regular basis. This was a very fast field. I got my first glympse of the pros at about the 12 mile mark. They all seemed to be riding disks on their rear wheels and they make a whirring noise that sounds like they are about to take flight. They were fast. We turned left and then made another left going north to the turn around. Still feeling pretty good. Once we returned back to the road with the big hill we rode going south, everything changed. The wind was blowing pretty strong from the north and it was a pretty heavy wind. When I looked up the route profile on map my ride, there were at least 6-7 category 5 climbs on this course. Taking this long slow climb through this canyon was a grind. Somewhere in here, the Ghost passed me. I never saw him and was looking for his haulassedness to blaze by me. Doug is incredibly fast. So fast, he did his Ghost thing and I never saw him fly by. Once we got out of the canyon and hit a flat section that seemed as if it would never end. I don't know how far in we were when the turn came to go east but my dreams of a 20 plus 56 mile ride were over. The conditions slowed me down alot and my legs were starting to burn. When making the turn, the pros passed going the other way, Greg Bennett set a new course record and he was way in front. He was making the turn to go south when I was turning to go east. He was looking back to see who was with him. There was no one with him. Shortly, there was a pack of 5-7 trying to chase him down. It was nice to get out of the headwind but I was getting tired. Another long flat stretch and then we headed south with the wind. Alright, great news except I knew that meant fighting the headwind on the way back. We went downhill for what seemed like a long time and went through a tree covered chute at the bottom of the canyon. It was really pretty in there. I wish I had some time to enjoy it. I saw the Ghost going the other way and yelled at him. He was really making good time. He rode a 2:25:00 which was faster than alot of the pros. Granted, he didn't swim but he was really fast. You have to get out of this canyon at some point and climb something referred to as the spiral stair case. You have some cruel motivational messages spray painted on the road and it felt very Tour De France like. The guys coming the other way were humming like mosquitos while everyone on the way up were doing less than 10mph. It seemed like the switchbacks from hell would never end. I thought I handled the staircase pretty well and once I got out of the canyon it was hello wind after another turn to the north. Maybe we wouldn't retrace our steps like the map said. Nope, we hit the turnaround. My legs were not happy and pulled over to grab a shark salt to keep the cramping at bay. I probably forgot to mention I got a cramp in my right hamstring at dinner the previous night and I started to feel a few twinges at this point. I decided to slow my pace to try and save something for the run. Going down the staircase was good times but once I hit the tree chute is was a very long and arduous climb out. At this point, it was damn near brutal. The crowd started to thin out at this point and I felt like I was in the back half of the pack. The back half of this pack was still really fast. I managed to find a group to pace myself with and kept moving. Once we headed south again, I was able to pick up the pace and probably held 20+ until we got back to the park. Once we were inside the park, the wind seemed to shift back to the east and was clobbering me until we got to the last hill. Anyone who does this race will tell you the last hill is probably the worst. It took the last bit of energy I had to get up that hill. I passed my truck in the parking area and knew Patty was down there somewhere. You can't really enjoy the last downhill to transition because you have to brake to get off the bike. I wanted off that thing and was happy to do so. My bike split was 3:15:42 and I averaged 17.17mph. I faded a little towards the end and really wanted to be above 18mph.
T2:
One guy next to me hung his wetsuit on my spot and the other guy threw his wetsuit on the top of my transition stuff. Thanks alot 651 and 653, whoever you are. I was absolutely spent. The thought of running a half marathon was beyond my mental capacity. I changed into some dry socks and put my tri top back on along with some arm coolers. I forgot the arm coolers and had to go back before I left transition. I hit the portapotty on the way out and was able to pee. I took this as a good sign on my hydration although that was probably a little misguided. Joe was out on the run and I looked forward to seeing one friendly face out there at some point. It took several minutes to get my head right with this. I am pretty sure my T2 time was around 10 minutes (actually 10:46). Once again, I didn't really care about my time at this point. This was purely about finishing the race. Don't get me wrong, I would like to be fast but my head wasn't really there anymore. I was doing mental calculations and realized under 6 hours was over but thought coming in under 6 and a half might be a possibility which would be close to my Austin time last October on what was a much easier course.
Run:
As I left transition, I heard the announcer call my name. That was kind of cool. I heard Patty and Kim yell at me from the side. I was so happy to see them. I was feeling really bad and needed to see someone familiar. I stopped and leaned on the rail to speak with them. Patty asked me why I was stopping to talk. This is a race and I should be running. I was tired and really just needed to see her for a minute before running. I really wanted a hug or something but the finishing chute was between us.
I was finally convinced to start this half marathon and took off down the road. I took my fuel belt with two water bottles to primarily hose myself down with. There are aid stations every mile and I should be ok on water, gatorade, and GU. I did take two Cherry Lime GUs with me. I discovered them at Ironman Austin and they saved my life. I still use them when running. They put me in a happy place and I wasn't sure what would be available.
We were in the bottom of this canyon and I saw the runners heading out of the park when I came in on the bike. This meant we had to climb out of this sucker and that pretty hard to wrap my mind around. I heard the announcer mention some of the pros at the finish line when I left and there were several very fast men and women coming the other way in the first mile that I ran. They made it look easy to fly down the road like that. The first mile was a struggle. I ran with a woman who would stop and walk, I would stop for a minute and she would pass me, she would stop and I would pass her. This went on for the first mile. It seemed like an hour to the first aid station at mile 1. I got some water and gatorade and settled into a slow and steady pace and ran the entire second mile. Ok, that was good, one mile at a time. The second mile went around the far end of the lake at there was a bridge that cut off the corner. I wanted to get on that bridge and jump in the lake. The heat was coming up and it had to be close to 90 degrees at this point. The roads and the sides of the road were wet and you could feel the humidity coming off the road. At least this was an environment we have been dealing with in Dallas lately. Not pleasant at all but at least familiar. Mile 3 began the ascent out of the canyon if my memory is correct. I remember one long and steep hill that I had to walk. I tried to run it slowly but I just didn't have it and I knew I had a long way to go and needed to conserve energy. Finally, I made it to the park entrance and thought I was home free to flatter running. Nope. When you get out of the park, you go left and dip down into the canyon again and then run up a very steep hill out of it again. On the way out of the park, Joe yelled at me on the way by. I was slipping into a weird funk and wasn't really all that aware when he passed by. Once it registered with me it was Joe, I stopped and turned around to speak to him. He waved me on and told me to keep going. He would see me at the finish line. Down the hill I went. As great as it was to build some speed, my thoughts went towards every step down meant one back up. There was an aid station with a Hawaiian theme at the bottom of this hill. I got a high five from a woman in a hula skirt before I got there who was encouraging everyone. She had a sign that said "Welcome to Hawaii" or something like that. Very confusing at first until you turn a corner and saw the aid station. I stopped here and had a GU (Mandarin Orange, not that great), drank water and Gatorade, grabbed some new wet towels, and started my steady regiment of pouring ice down my jersey and my shorts. I would do this at almost every aid station from here to the finish. The heat seemed far more intense than 90 degrees and staying cool was job one in my mind. The volunteers at the aid stations were all great. Time to get out of this canyon. The hill out was long and steep. I had to walk portions of the climb and came across a woman from Arkansas who was running a fairly steady pace. We would go back and forth. She was very upbeat and always had something nice to say. We talked a little bit as we ran. I would stop at the aid stations and she would cruise through grabbing a drink on the go. I would catch up and talk for a few more minutes. We ran together in some form for the last 8 miles of the race. She was awesome. Once we got up the hill, there were no trees in sight. Just a long straight road surrounded by farm land. We turned right on another long, straight road to what seemed like nowhere. I was running aid station to aid station. The next aid station at this point was mile 6 and you could see it way off in the distance shimmering from the heat coming off the road. For a few minutes it seemed to get farther away than closer. My mind was slipping into a very negative place. How was I going to get back to the finish? I am cooked. What the hell are we doing here? When it got bad, my running buddy would show up and we would talk about something else and keep my mind quiet. I finally reached mile 6. The aid station volunteer gave me like 4 wet towels. I layered them on the top of my head and put my visor on over the towels. That felt great. The only Roctane they had at this aid station was pineapple. Sounded terrible (and it was) and I really felt like throwing up just thinking about eating it so I kept it in my hand and started running again. The turnaround was another half mile down this road and looked to be 10 miles away. Once there, volunteers were handing out ice, water, and gatorade. You could hear the familiar beep of timing chips crossing the sensors. That felt good to know every step was getting closer to the finish line. The trudge back down this road was tough. I was encouraged about making progress back to the finish. Once we turned left and headed back to the Hawaii aid station, I felt for the first time I would actually finish. People were still coming the other way and they looked wiped out. I tried to encourage as many as possible on the way down. I stopped to get recharged at the aid station and my girl came by with one of the volunteers in a hula skirt. The hula girl was pacing her up the hill. I jumped in and we listened to hula girl tell us how close we were to finishing. How great was that and perfect timing. We passed a guy that I had rode with quite a bit on the bike and I told him to come on with us. He was walking but I got him going. I think his name was Chris. He was 34 and was from Lubbock. It was his first half iron race. The three of us pretty much ran together the rest of the way. Once we got back to the park, it was back down into the canyon. At close to the bottom of the canyon, my hamstrings started to cramp. When I stopped for a second, Chris stopped. He stayed with me for every step and made sure I was ok. I told him not to wait for me but he said all he wanted to do was finish and beat 7 hours. We were way under that and I appreciate his company more than he will ever know. We talked about jumping in the lake, all of the people walking around staring at us like zoo animals, strange things we were thinking, whatever. Our Arkansas girl was still knocking out a steady pace and she would run with us and fall back a little. Then catch up and run with us for another few more minutes. Once we had two miles to go, the aid station had coke and I generally stay off coke during races. Chris had some and said it was the best thing he had ever tasted. I told him I was breaking tradition and would down at least two cups of coke at the last aid station. We got to the last aid station at mile 12 and they were out. Dang it. It did keep me motivated to get there so there was something good about holding out for a coke. Seemed like every small hill caused me to cramp. We were counting down the tenths to go. A few people on the side of the road or people who had already finished were telling us to keep going and we were so close. I had to stop one more time with about a quarter mile to go and I told Chris to go on without me. I would see him at the end. Good news was Joe had come up the road to meet me. Here is a picture of me and Chris with Arkansas girl behind us.
It was the greatest thing ever to see Joe. First, he knows what this feels like because he runs big distances as an ulta runner and knows what to say and do. Second, he is a friendly face and you need that alot. He was talking to me. I don't really have any idea what he was saying but I think he was telling me how close we were. I dumped my wet towel turbin and tried to look decent for my finishing picture, at least as good as I can look considering what I have to work with. Seemed like the finishing chute came out of nowhere. At this point, there were some hearty soles at he finish area cheering everyone on.
I hurt so bad but it was good to hear them clap or say something nice. Since Joe had a competitor bracelet, he came around the back side of the finish and met me. I made it. I was finished, literally. Somebody took my chip off my ankle and grabbed me something to drink. I don't think I looked very good. I got my medal and a shirt. Joe was leading me around a little bit. I'm not sure I was making sense. I lost Chris and didn't see him again. I would have hugged him if I had the chance. Bummer. One of the volunteers took me to the medical tent. I thought it was all going to be ok. It wasn't.
Post Race:
Once I got to the medical tent, it was a crazy sight. There had to be at least 50 stations where people were getting IVs. I didn't feel like I was going to cramp so Joe and I passed through the tent and found the drinks and fruit. I ate some watermelon and drank an Ironman Perform drink. I wanted to jump in the lake just like me and Chris talked about. Joe wisely talked me out of that. The cool water on my muscles probably would have sent me directly into a cramp fest. We found Patty and Kim and wondered over to some shade. This is a happy picture before my actual cramping started. I wear two bracelets at these races for luck. The pink one is for Joe's wife Kim who is a cancer survivor. Joe gave me the bracelet and it helps when things get hard. The second is a white one with names on it. Patty, my kids Lance and Meghan, Joe, the Matrix who runs with me and Joe alot (he's a ultra beast), Jeff my coach, and Justin my neighbor who rides with me alot even though I'm not as fast as him. Good luck charms that haven't let me down yet and keep me going in very dark moments.
I sat in a camping chair and it took about 10-15 minutes and both legs cramped hard, quads and hamstrings. I couldn't stand up. At this point, I had to be pulled to my feet and I stumbled over to the medical tent. I brought Patty with me and I wasn't going to have anyone say she couldn't be there and no one did. The nurse came over and started an IV for me. They started a bag and put cool towels on my legs and got me a drink. Awesome. I thought I was in bad shape until I looked to my left. The guy next to me ran the half marathon with a rock lodged between his toenail and his big toe. They called over the doctor and basically had to numb his toe and do surgery right there to remove his toenail and get the rock out. Brutal but that guy must be one tough SOB. A nurse came over to me when my IV was finished and asked me if I was ok. She asked if this was my first time at this race and I said yes. Then she asked me if I was coming back. Excellent question. She lived in Lubbock and said she had done this race twice and we were lucky to catch it on a good day. Her advice to me was to check it off my bucket list and move on. I'm not sure what to make of that advice, at least not today. Sitting in that medical tent, it seemed like the best advice anyone has ever given me in my life. Joe and Kim went back to the apartment to shower and pack while I was getting my IV. We were going to meet them there. I had to gather my stuff and get my bike out of transition. I wish I had a picture of that. It was carnage in the tranistion area. I handed what Patty could carry to her and went to check out my bike. If you remember some time ago in the post I mentioned the hill from the parking area and the 9% hill out of transition. You have to go up that hill to get to the car. Climbing up that hill was one last kick to the crotch but getting in the truck was great. Air Conditioning never felt so good. We met up with Joe and Kim, had some lunch and then headed home. I cramped up one more time on the way back to Dallas but that was it. The IV was the best decision of the day by far. No way I make it home without that.
......so in the end was it all worth it. Yes. The course was awesome, the people were great, and it was the hardest physical challenge I have done by a long shot. There is something really satifying about testing your limits that makes you feel alive. My neighbor Justin called me yesterday and he put in perspective. You get high marks on the triathlon street cred meter when you tell people you have done Buffalo Springs. Like Rocky, I didn't win the fight but I didn't get knocked out. Finishing as strong as possible was what I was looking for and I think I won on that count. Stay classy Lubbock!
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