Which Half Is Iron?

Grand Columbian Half Ironman
Electric City, WA
1.2 mile Swim/56 mile Bike/13.1 mile run

The Short Version

Overall Time: 7:09:08 (146/175 OA [39 DNFs, 4 DNS], 35/51 F, 12/16 AG)
Swim: 42:49 (2:01/100 m)
T1: 5:10
Bike: 3:44:46 (14.9 mph)
T2: 5:27
Run: 2:30:54 (11:31 m/m)

Breakfast Report: 2 packets Cinnamon roll oatmeal, coffee, Water
Fashion Report: Black Orca tri shorts, red Sugoi shimmel, LIT visor, 2 Red Lizard Tats on my left shoulder
Race Nutrition Report: 2 Raspberry Hammer gels, 6 Cola Shot Bloks, 6 Margarita Shot Bloks, a few pretzels, Water, Gatorade
Post Race Libation: New Old Lompoc C-Note IPA

The Long Version

Finally, the culmination of the "Year of Going Long". It started with a marathon and ended with a half Ironman. I learned a lot about myself, what I like, and what I don't like about this crazy sport of ours. After a week of nervous taper crazies unlike any I've ever seen before, this was it. I was staring down the barrel of my first half Ironman. Will my ankle hold up? Will my largely theoretical nutrition plan work on the bike? Damn 70.3 is a long way to go. Nothing left but to put my mettle on the line and test it. I've done the work. Now it's time to dance.

Pre-Race

Grand Coulee Dam is a long ways away from Portland, 7 hours to be exact. A pretty uneventful drive heading up there. We saw the Bannons just outside of Wapato as they passed and then again once we pulled into the Columbia River Inn just across from the dam itself. It was nice for me to know that I'd be racing with a friend. Matt would finish way ahead of me but we'd suffer through the same things together. We headed off to a local pizza/pasta joint for an early dinner before heading off to the race site to pick up packets and drop our bikes off. I'd heard so many good things about this race which was part of the reason I picked it for my first HIM (not knowing anything about the course) and I'm happy to say that they were all true. The race direction and the volunteers, especially the volunteers, were top notch. No detail was left to chance down to the rack assignments with not only our numbers but our names! Now if that doesn't make you feel elite... That was a nice surprise as I was racking my bike in T1. Once our bikes were racked, Matt & I bid our families farewell and went to drive part of the bike course before the athlete meeting. I wanted to see if the first big hill was as advertised. It was. *gulp* Athlete meeting done...actually, we left as I was getting increasingly snarky about the stupid questions. Nothing left to do but to go back to the hotel, pack our transition bags, and try to get some sleep.

After what seemed to be an extremely long night, morning came way too early. How does that happen? I got up and started some coffee and managed to choke down some oatmeal before it was time to head to the race site. As I was putting the finishing touches on my bike for T1 (aerobottle, bento box, that sort of thing), a guy, Shane, came up to rack his bike and inadvertently sent my helmet & glasses tumbling to the ground. He apologized profusely and then noticed that a wicked looking goathead thorn was sticking out of my rear tire. We took the thorn out and the tire instantly deflated. Great. Fifty minutes before swim start and I need to change a freaking flat. Before I knew it, Shane had my rear tire off and was asking for a spare tube. It seems Shane was a bike mechanic from Idaho who was doing the Aquabike with his childhood friend, Kelly. He felt bad that he'd knocked stuff off my Bellatrix so changed my tube and made some adjustments to my rear derailleur for good measure. Boy, did I luck out! A few minutes of pre-race downtime with Chad & Rachel and then it was time to get the suits on and get ready to go.

The Swim

Nothing much to say here except I love RD's who use bouy lines. Let's just say that what I got out of this swim is exactly what I put into it this season. I did not focus on the swim AT ALL this season. I maintained, if that but for what it's worth it was a solidly MOP swim. I chicked some guys, much sooner than expected if Chad's pictures are to be believed and saw lots of stuff in the lake - pine trees, old tires, a toy fighter jet. Solid, steady, then I was done and running up to the change tent for T1, grabbing my bike bag from a volunteer along the way. For all the IM touches they had at this race, the one thing they needed was a wetsuit stripper and I needed one. My ID tag got stuck on my wetsuit so I didn't realize I needed to fix anything until I was tugging at my right arm wondering why I couldn't get the darn thing off! I finally got it together and headed off to get Bella, my trusty steed. It's so good to have her back.

The Bike
Ah, nothing like an 1875 ft climb to start off your day. Yep, you heard me. We climbed from the river to the top of the freaking canyon in the first three miles of the bike course. An average 8% grade with some whopping 15+% grades on a few switchbacks. Grades reminiscent of Alcatraz. It was tough. It was awesome! I kept reminding myself that I had to take it easy. I can't blow my plan two miles into the bike. So I kept spinning as easily as I could, popping out of the saddle on some of the tougher switchbacks. Pretty soon I was on top of the mesa and ready to roll....literally. Rollers, big rollers, rollers big enough that momentum didn't take you too far all the way to Almira. Couple that with a kicking headwind and it made for a rough ride south. I was taking in one blok every five miles, grabbed a water at the first aid station, picking and passing a few fishies, and pretty much put my head down and resolved to work. Just outside of Almira, I got buzzed by an RV driver who decided to be an ass, making me pop out of aero just to control my bike in his slipstream. No other cars within miles. As I left Almira, I was faced with ten straight miles at 1-3% grade and I loved it! I was still feeling strong, fueling, and this is when I started picking cyclists off left and right. I must have passed at least six! Yes, I counted. Nothing else to do to pass the time. After the grind, we saw a series of rollers, not as bad as those outbound, and rejoined the olympic course all the way to SR 174. The winds were starting to pick up at that point and there were crosswinds that threatened to blow me off the road. I thought I'd get a tailwind once I hit SR 174 to get back down off the mesa to the river. I neglected to consider canyon dynamics. The winds were howling and they were swirling, some cross, some head, some tail, largely unpredictable. Those last 10 miles were most likely the most terrifying ten miles I've ever experienced in a tri. There was no riding in aero here. My bike was too twitchy and I was still tentative as hell taking left turns. I finally got back down to the river and spun easy trying to get mentally shored up for the run. A volunteer helped me rack my bike and I grabbed my run bag and headed to the change tent. Shoes changed, a quick porta-potty stop and it was time to run.


The Run

Or plod. I've accepted that the first mile of any tri is going to suck. But I've never experienced the mind-numbing fatigue that I experienced after a 56 mile bike ride. It was all I could do to keep my form somewhat presentable and my feet moving. Matt caught up to me about 2.5 miles into his second loop and ran with me for a bit before moving on. I was feeling OK since I'd fueled pretty well on the bike until I got to the end of the first loop of the run. The entrance of the pain cave was near and I was about to enter when I saw Chad. I muttered something about starting to suffer and started my second loop. At about the 8 mile mark, I was ready to be done. I was taking in water and Gatorade at every aid station, took a gel, was pouring water on my head to stay cool but I was ready to be done at mile 8. I was tired. Really tired. To conserve energy, I started walking the uphills and running the downhills and flats. Willing my quads and calves not to seize. At the top of the final hill, I picked it up. With only half a mile to go, I was ready to be done and God help me, I was going to run it in. And I did. Through the campground and across the finish line. SOmeone handed me a belt buckle and a cup of water. I walked to the grass and just sat, deliriously happy to be finished with the slog but no other emotion other than I'm f-in glad I'm done. And that's how Chad & Matt found me.

Post-Race

Overall, this was a very positive experience and I'm glad I did it. However, I ceased having fun about an hour before I actually finished. It became an almost unbearable slog at that point. I loved the bike course (yes, I'm a masochist) and if the run was about 8 miles, I'd be ecstatic and ready to sign up for more. So for all those who thought I'd love this distance, well, love is a strong word. Chad actually asked me if I hated it. And hate is an equally strong word. I didn't love it. I didn't hate it. But I admit, at this point, it's not my favorite but I can't say I'd never do it again. Call me crazy but I like the pain of racing at redline far more than the pain of the long slog. The pain is still fresh in my mind at this point but I am looking forward to an actual off-season and the thought of racing my favorite olys and half-marathons next year. You'll probably see me at the start line of a half Ironman in the future but for now, I'm going to have fun getting back to my favorite distances. It's been a long but good year. I had highs. I had lows but I learned a lot about myself and what I need to do to thrive at this sport for the future.