Savageman - Triathlon1/2 Ironman

My first thought was - this isn't so bad! Then I got kicked. Repeatedly.

My anxiety level skyrocketed and with it my heartbeat and breathing. Immediately I realized that I simply did not have enough OWS experience and should have done a few (like a couple dozen!) shorter races to get used to swimming with 400 of my closest friends.

In the first 100 yards, I pulled completely back and out of my wave. Looking around, I saw another orange cap nearby. He looked at me and said, "I'll finish with you." I said thanks and we started off. Very slowly. 60 yards freestyle, 30 yards breaststroke. Repeat.

Now don't get me wrong. After 80-some thousand yards of swimming practice (I did only actually learn how to swim this year - I only knew how not to drown before), the course is a short 2200 yard swim. I can do that any day of the week now. Just not on this day.

My buddy and I worked our way to the first turn around. I swallowed a ton of air. It became a very normal event to have a safety boat come alongside to be sure that I was ok after a hacking/burping episode. We made it around the turtle and started towards the next turn around, still alternating swim/stroke.

Yes, we got passed by many in the wave behind us, but somewhere along the back stretch we both settled down (and my wetsuit finally worked itself into place) and started swimming like the practiced athletes we are.

Coming around the swan, I gave him some words of encouragement and we worked it in to the shore. Coming out of the water - a high-five, a smile, and a nice walk to transition.

Practice, practice, practice. In every possible bit of open water I could find. Now I know - it's not just about being able to do the distance. That's the easy part.

Still - 46 minutes. Close to what I anticipated. I can only imagine what it would have been without the struggles of the first half.

Transition was fine. Probably a bit longer than needed. There was no need to rush though. Finishing was the goal. The extra time to make sure I had everything was worth it.

Said bye to my swim buddy who got out of transition a minute before me. I passed a lot of people on the bike. He wasn't one of them.

Nothing really comes to mind. I might add a Bento Box to the bike so I don't have to spend time stuffing my pockets with nutrition.

You've read about the course. I won't repeat it here. This was one tough cookie. Luckily I had a weekend about two months prior that I could get out to the course to try it out. That ride took me well over 5 hours. I had to walk no fewer than a half-dozen times. And my confidence was completely demolished. That being said - I came back and gave it one more try.

Before I go any further, let me just point out that I DID NOT get a brick. For many of the competitors, it seemed that getting the brick was their goal. That seems silly since it comes at only 18 miles into a 56 mile ride. If I was able to accomplish that task I would have been happy - but finishing the ride without having to walk was far more important to me. Yes, I was disappointed. However, that's how the crumbled road, well..., crumbled.

The bike ride started out well enough. Even with the lack of biking workouts I was able to get in in the five weeks prior, I was maintaining a good steady pace through the first 18. I felt strong and had to make sure that I didn't let myself push too hard.

I made it through the first three sub-hills to the Westernport Wall. Taking them super easy was key. Lined up for the right side of the climb, I started up. A couple athletes must have been in a higher gear or pedaling harder because they pushed between me and the right curb. I moved slightly to the left. At that point, my tire caught a rut and the front end of my bike started to bounce to the left. Continuing to pedal my way up the hill, I could not work the bike into line and it kept hitting the cobblestones and bouncing left. About halfway up the hill I found myself on a bee-line for the left curb. Frantically I tried to get the bike pointed straight up hill but we were too far gone and I was forced to unclip and put the bike down before running into the curb. Alas - no brick.

That would be about the only story to tell on the whole ride. We started the big climbs at that point. I really paced myself through all of them. Having ridden the course before, I was not so bummed to come over a rise to see yet another hill start right away.

It was a perfect weather day for the ride. I simply enjoyed being out on the bike, riding through a gorgeous mountainous country-side that was wonderfully filled with trees that were starting to turn, animals quietly feeding, and neighbors outside showing their support.

I made sure to stop at the aid stations and take in some nutrition. I wasn't doing a great job of eating what I had carried with me. Had I ate a little more, it might have helped but I never felt low on energy so I'm not sure.

All of the volunteers were great and I had fun posing for the cameras.

At about mile 37, I started to have on-again, off-again spasms and cramps in the lower heads of my quads. A little more with the electrolytes would have helped there, but this had never happened before so I had not planned for it.

Finishing the bike and having not stopped to walk any of the hills, I was in great spirits. With only the run left, my spot on the finisher's list was almost secure.

More Hills! My overall time was crazy slow and my pace was below mid-pack for the hills. I would do much more race-terrain specific training. As a newbie, I had no idea what I was getting into...

It was a slow cruise into transition. The bike ends on a slight downhill. I took the opportunity to not hurt myself by unclipping, stopping completely, dismounting, and shuffling into the transition area.

I didn't have any problems with the exchange. Bike up, shoes off, socks on, shoes on, a couple slugs from the Powerade bottle, and off I was for the run.

Again, nothing comes to mind. It all went as well as I could expect for not pushing the limit or practicing a lot.

What a great way to end the race. The run may have not been as treacherous as the bike, however it certainly was not easy either.

As I came out of transition, I felt good. It was true that I wasn't feeling quite fleet-footed, but I wasn't dragging either. My quads had stopped cramping for the time being and I was able to will my legs to stop me from falling at a steady rate. The run started off on a short trail and headed for the first out and back on the course. There weren't as many spectators on the run course (read: none) as the bike course. The volunteers though, made up for it. They were awesome.

Somewhere on the first leg through the campsites, I realized that headed uphill I was moving slower at a run than at a walk. Having raced a hard trail half-marathon earlier in the season I brought with me the knowledge that sometimes it is okay to walk. Somewhere around mile 2 I met up with a couple athletes who were also taking advantage of the healing attributes of a race-walk. As we started chatting, a nice volley of run/walk started and spirits were lifted as well as our pace.

Partially through this first lap, I was left with one running buddy. Together we talked about the race, training, other races, said hi to athletes coming the other way, thanked the volunteers profusely, and generally just enjoyed a Sunday long run at a pace we could survive.

My partner was on his second lap and obviously in much worse shape than I felt at the time. He was able to warn me ahead of time of the terrain we would be coming to which was really nice. We trudged our way up the fire tower road, turned around and trotted back to the start. As we made it towards the transition area I shook his hand, said my congratulations, and watched him head off to become a 2009 Savageman.

As I passed transition again, it felt very lonely to be out there. I knew that there were others on the course, but couldn't shake the feeling that I was one of very few left on the course. This was a first for me. I ran a ton of races very early in the year and in every one I was near the front. This is why I always went back to run with those still on the course.

At the start of the second lap was an aid station. Per my MO for the rest of the race, I stopped for this one too. By now, both lower heads or both quads were shredded and cramped. They were screaming at me and I was refusing to listen. The volunteers graciously gave me a couple Endurolytes and some HEED before sending me along. I love the volunteers.

This lap was much more sparse of athletes to wave and cheer for, but the ones left always had a big smile in return. I struggled through the campsites - again on the "walk up the hills/run when possible" plan. Coming out of the campsites I continued to find myself more and more alone. Funny. I train alone. Why did it bother me now?

Less than a half mile later came a savior. We met the night before at the Pasta Dinner. He was walking, head down - but moving forward. As I passed - I patted him on the back, gave some encouragement, turned to hear his response and we had immediate recognition. We shook hands and I kept moving ahead. Within seconds I heard the slapping of flat feet coming up behind me. A few more later and I had a new running partner.

Like the first lap, we talked of all things triathlon while trying to survive. I kept the pace toned back in respect of his very painful condition. My own quads were on fire and soon my hamstrings joined the chorus. We worked our way along the route cheering on others and helping one another. I knew that I could go faster, but wasn't this the point?

As we came into the finish area, I shook his hand and gave him the room to move ahead to have his own Savageman victory. Happily, I watched him cross the line and headed that way.

The finish. Finally.

I would add long bike/run bricks. There were a few but nothing had prepared me for this. Maybe even double bricks. Super hard double bricks.

Someone must be joking here... I sat down. Ate a banana - drank a coke. Watched the rest of the competitors finish. Watched the awards. Cheered my head off for people I don't know and waited until the last person was across the finish line. A slow walk back to transition, collected my gear, and packed the Jeep. A long warm shower at the hotel followed by a super steak supper closed out the evening. I slept soundly that evening.


I chose to perform at the level I did. This was about completion and enjoying the experience.


Before I run out of places to put in my two cents - this event was an awesome event. From the people, to the course, to the cause - it was simply first rate. Tough, but doable for the determined. When my work schedule will allow for more continuous training right before this race I will definitely do it again. There are not enough words to describe how great it was. And the volunteers. Wow. Thank you for the opportunity to race for you.

And while I'm thanking people, there is a grand group of them who I must thank profusely. Everyone at Universal - too many of you to not miss someone! The guys at work - Greg, Jason, Mark, Kevin, Barry, and Steve, among so many others. The only friends not driven away by the obsessive manner in which I took this event on - Michelle, Susannah, and Shawna. To each and every athlete I met along the way - so many names I have forgotten, but your kindness and faces I have not. For every smile, word of encouragement, question about how training was going, when the race was, how I was feeling... Every time you shook your head thinking how crazy I was. Every excited feeling I'd get boring you with all the explicit details of my training, nutrition, schedule, sleep, blah, blah, blah...

To everyone who the course of my life ran, biked, or swam through theirs - my humblest thanks.


Like that, it was all over. I completed the race. 1100 miles of biking, 600 miles of running, 82000 yards of swimming - 9 months of training. And the race - completed.

Never before had I ever experienced the following feeling after a race. Thrice before I had felt it for others - Mom & Dad's Half-Mary, Melissa & Adam's little Andrew, and Bonnie's high-honors graduation. Once before I felt it within myself - completing Marine Corps Boot Camp.

As I walked away from the finish line towards transition I felt it again. This was for all the inspiration my family had unknowingly given me. That's when it washed over me. And I felt...

Proud.