Rev3 Knoxville - Half Rev - Triathlon1/2 Ironman

My plan going into the swim was to stay relaxed and calm, and breathe on the left side until the turnaround to keep the closer shoreline in sight. I thought that seeing a shoreline close would keep me from having any panic issues. I was smooth from the start and just kept a good stroke going, just as I had the day before. Getting familiar with the water the day before was paying dividends. I made my way to the buoy and turned. Now I knew the current would be helping me and the closer shoreline would be on the right (so I could breathe on my better side). I also knew the water was a little splashier in the direction - once again, no surprises. I made occasional contact with other swimmers, but nothing bad - just got into some clearer water. I might even have passed a couple of people. I knew I was having a great swim - just had to maintain it. As I swam past Calhoun's, I saw a wave of Olympic racers about to start. Usually, I am so far in the back that these people would be passing me, rather than me being in the home stretch before they start.

Having the close shoreline kept me from getting disoriented and anxious. I have had two river swim events and both of them have gone really well. This might be the key to my open water troubles. In other events, I am swimming directly into more water, or 'nothingness', while in a river, I get an orientation point every time I breathe. I am hoping I can use this realization to make future events easier, as it truly is a mental issue.

I went under the last bridge and headed for the swim exit. I flopped out of the water onto the dock and started heading to transition. I checked my watch, which I didn't properly start at the horn, but calculated that it had taken me around forty minutes - I was thrilled with a PR swim. I did a half jog on the long way to the transition area, and saw Brad along the way and congratulated him on getting the swim done. The day was off to the best start I could have hoped for.

Not a thing. I executed the swim exactly as I had wanted to. I might have been able to push the pace more, but I have no regrets.

As mentioned, it was a long way to transition from the swim exit. I got my wetsuit off and hung it over a rail behind the transition boxes. I got the bike ready and started to make my way out of the garage and onto the bike course.

Nothing really - it was going to be a long day, and while I could have run faster to the garage, I wanted to be careful not to bang my feet up on the blacktop or pavement.

I wanted to ride conservatively and preserve something for the run. Also, since I knew the course would be hilly, I didn't want to burn out too much early and stagger through the second half. I knew the hills would just keep coming and needed to maintain some strength to the end.

Early in the ride, I discovered an issue with my bike. When the bike was under stress (cranking uphill), the back tire would rub the inside of the rear cutout. This had two effects. One - it would produce an awful squeaking sound when the tire rubbed against the cutout, and two - the rubbing would cause the tire and cutout to act as a brake and slow down my momentum. I didn't find the issue duing my Friday test ride because none of the hills I rode that day were steep enough to produce the issue. I stopped once to see if releasing the back wheel and re-setting it would help. When I started pedaling back up the hill, the squeaking continued - no improvement. I had two choices. First, I could get off the bike and fix it right. Plan A would involve turning the bike over, removing the wheel, getting out a screwdriver and backing out the dropout screws, putting it back together and hoping that the adjustments worked. It would cost a lot of time and I may have to do it a couple of times to get things right. Plan B was to deal with the squeaking and rubbing, cross my fingers and continue on, hoping that it wouldn't cause further trouble and I could get through 56 miles. I opted for Plan B - a calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless.

The bike course rolled constantly, through woods and farmland - you were either going uphill or downhill. The uphills were fairly long and challenging. On one, another rider gave me a compliment. As he came from behind, he noticed my calves, which had to be straining as I cranked up the hill. He said something like 'Holy Cow - use those thundercalves to get up that hill, Brother - those are massive!'. That made me smile and helped me up the hill. Another rider noticed the squeaking - I explained that my tire was rubbing at low speeds. She said - 'we'll just have to speed up, then!' I said that sounded like a good solution and pedaled a little faster. It was another lift to the spirits.

Having gotten out of the water in the middle of the pack, I was surrounded by faster racers than I am used to and there was more passing and being passed than normal. I'm used to chasing the entire field from behind and picking off slower riders. As a few of them passed me at high speeds, all I could think was - as fast as you are, how am I even in front of you in the first place? Being in the middle is definitely a whole different race experience.

I tried not to look at the mileage too often as I wanted to just settle in and keep the pedals moving. When I did look, I calculated how far through the ride I was. I stayed on top of hydration and nutrition pretty well, taking in G2 and Infinit as I rode. At one point, I got an assist from another rider when I was having trouble getting my bottle back into the rear rack. He told me I had it too low, so I aimed higher and got it back in. I thanked him when I was able to re-pass him.

About midway through, I came up behind Brad again. I told him great job, and that if I didn't see him later in the ride, I certainly would on the run. Prior experience told me that most people I pass on the bike eventually catch me after T2.

At around mile 40, I noticed that I had hit the stop button on my Garmin at some point, so I had a gap of about eight miles that were unaccounted for. Dang! Between the swim start when I didn't hit the start button hard enough until 16 minutes in, and now my Garmin, I had two timing systems fail so far. I still had a good idea of where I was, but in some aspects, I was racing a little blind.

After mile 50, I ran out of the drinks that I brought with me and started on the Gatorade I had picked up at the last aid station. It was good to get a different taste than what I had been drinking for 50 miles. The road went back into the downtown area and I hit a bump pretty hard, which bounced my speedometer out of its bracket. I lost a few places and a minute or two going back to get it.

I went back over the bridge and back toward campus. As is always the case in long course races, I was glad that I would be getting off the bike soon. The bad news is that meant that I was about to have to run 13 miles. The relief that the bike was going to hold together to the end took the edge off the knowledge that I was about to have to run in the hills and the heat. At least, being on my feet, I knew that a finish was no longer in question. All that was left to be determined were the final splits and numbers.

A conservative ride was according to plan. I wish I had taped or zip tied the speedometer in place - I wouldn't have lost that time.

A long way through the parking garage to the transition spot. It took some time, but it wasn't that bad of a transition. I wasn't really ready to run until I got my shoes on and got on the run course.

Nothing - it wasn't a bad transition.

I knew going into the race that providing my swim wasn't a disaster, the run would be the key to having a good race. I had been conservative on the bike to avoid having a standard meltdown on the run course and be slowed to a crawl. I expected it to be hilly and hot, both of which were true. I planned to do segments of five minute runs with one minutes walks in between, which was how I trained for this event.

I realized when I got to transition in the morning that I had forgotten to bring my bottle holder, so I would have to hold my Infinit bottle the entire way rather than having the hand strap. This didn't turn out to be much of an issue - just a minor annoyance.

The first couple of run segments went by without issue. I stayed on schedule and didn't look down at my pace. It was hot and humid, so I knew I would need to stop at the aid stations for water. At each one, I took two waters. Even if the station interfered with my interval schedule, I took a little extra break to make sure I was getting enough water.

A couple of miles into the run, Brad approached me from behind. He said that he finally reeled me in, and said I told him he would. I congratulated him on being so far through and told him to have a great run. I am no stranger to being passed like this, so I kept focusing on running my race.

As we got deeper onto the greenway path, there were more hills to contend with. The hills really started messing with the rhythm of my run/walk intervals, so I decided I needed to adjust my strategy a little. I decided to take my walk breaks when I hit a steep uphill or aid station, and run the flats and the downhills to compensate. I expected the course to be similar to Silverman, which was the course where I had my 1/2 Ironman run PR (and the 5:1 run/walk ratio had been so effective), but while that course was sunny and exposed with gradual hills, this one provided a lot of tree cover, but the hills were steeper and more frequent.

With a new strategy in place, things started clicking. My legs were stating to hurt and I needed to use a restroom, but I was holding it together and chewing up miles. Before the turnaround, I finally found a porta potty. There was no line - great! I took a much needed break and headed back out onto the course, knowing the I wouldn't have to stop again and that the turnaround would come soon. Also, I had no idea where I was in the field. After the turnaround, I might be able to see how many people were still behind me.

When I reached the halfway point, I checked my time and saw that I was right on my pace from Silverman. A PR type of run was within reach if I picked it up just a little in the second half. That helped to motivate me to stay strong and not wilt in the heat and humidity. I also noticed a pretty good number of people coming from the other direction. Wow - I was actually part of the race for a change. I felt like I could likely hold off a number of them and not finish too far toward the back of the pack.

As aid stations came, I took one water to drink, one to pour over my head, and one cup of cola. I had felt a little sloshy from the Gatorade at the start of the run, but my stomach felt good again and I felt like I was ready to start taking in a few calories for energy. It seemed to help as I felt a little more energy, even though my legs and feet were starting to scream a little.

In the last few miles, the woods section ended and I was exposed to the sun again. It was hot and I was hurting, but I reminded myself of a triathlete mantra that I had used a lot on this trip - through the long drive to Knoxville, the hectic walking back and forth to check in at registration, transition, and the swim practice, during the long wait at the porta potties before walking to the start area, in the cold water at the start at the swim, and during the parts of the bike where the hills had taken their toll and I was struggling - Embrace the Suck. I allowed myself to feel it, to experience the pain and discomfort, and know that better times lay ahead if I kept pushing myself forward.

As luck had it, I was still able to pass a few people in the closing miles. Even though I was hurting, it appeared that there were others hurting worse. I checked my time again, and saw that if I kept it together to the end, I was awfully close to besting my run time at Silverman (my Garmin had auto paused when I was in the bathroom, so I wasn't entirely sure how long I had been stopped). I also saw that I could break seven hours for the event (this I knew for sure, since we had started at 7:30am and I had a finish before 2:30pm in my sights).

At the last aid station after mile 12, I saw Brad again. I was coming from behind him and closing as we made our way toward World's Fair Park and the finish. I had a decision to make. I felt like I could pick it up and likely pass him close to the end. I thought about what (if anything) that would mean to me. I had already gotten what I wanted out of this race, was having a great day with good news about my performance from start to finish, and whether I finished in 246th or 247th place meant nothing to me. On the other hand, I though about what it would mean to him. It was his first 1/2, his family was there, and we had been friendly all day on the course. I thought about how he would feel having to try to outsprint me at the end, feel like I poached his spot by sneaking up on him in the last 1/4 mile, that we would both be straining in our finishing pictures rather than smiling and proud. I thought that might leave him with a bad taste in his mouth from his race, and for what? One lousy spot. No - I would cruise to the finish, allow him his moment at the finish line and coast in behind. It seemed like the right thing to do.

As we approached the end, Rev3 put our picture that was taken at registration up on the big screen and announced us in. As I approached, the announcer noticed that Brad and I (numbers 904 and 905) were coming in consecutively. That was kind of cool. I picked up my medal, finisher's shirt, and a Gatorade towel (it would have been nicer to have had that at the practice swim the day before, but it was still nice to get it at all). I found Brad and congratulated him and met his family. He mentioned that I had said how lousy a runner I am and he was surprised to see me closing on him at the end. I told him that I had a great run and had run over my head - which felt true. My last three miles were my fastest of the day. I really finished strong.

Nothing. I had to adjust my strategy and it worked out well. Due to my stop to use the bathroom, I missed a run PR by about a minute and a half. However, considering the course difficulty and heat/humidity combination, I feel confident in saying that this was my best run in a 70.3 mile race.

I found the Buddy's Barbecue tent and grabbbed a long awaited barbecue sandwich. I had been looking forward to it since I saw in the race materials that a barbecue place was sponsoring and would have food for the athletes. I took a seat on the grass and ate the sandwich and drank a bottle of water, basking in what might have been my best race to date. Normally, my stomach can't handle food immediately after running, but it hit the spot. As much as I had missed Jenna all weekend, it was here that I missed her the most. The finish, the achievement - just seemed a little hollow and empty without her there. After having such a great day, I wanted to be able to share it with her, but instead I had to take solace in souvenirs, personal satisfaction, and some pulled pork on a bun. I hoped that she was able to see on-line that I had finished, but I looked forward to getting back to the transition area, where I could send her a message and let her know I was okay.

I walked back to transition, sent a text message to Jenna and got my equipment together. I rode the bike back toward the hotel to get there a little faster. As it turned out, Rev3 had issues with their timing and the on-line tracking hadn't worked well. Jenna was concerned that I was still on the bike when it showed my finish time, so she was relieved to hear from me.

That night, I went out and had a big bag of Krystal burgers (a Southern thing) and looked back on the day. I was hurting and sore, but not nearly as wrecked as I had been after Silverman.


Nothing - I put it all together and had a great race. It was about as fast as I could have been on that day.


Despite the timing issues, long lines at registration, and a lot of walking around to check in, set up, and gather things together post race, Rev3 did a fantastic job, the positives FAR outweigh the negatives, and it was a great venue and event.

The organization was outstanding, the course was safe and well marked, and things ran on time. In our race packets, we received goggles and a visor, race number tattoos for body marking, and our bibs had our name and t-shirt size. At the finish we received a medal, a finisher's shirt, and a towel. In addition, the race announcer called us out by name and home town, and our pictures were placed on a big screen that overlooked the finish chute. They also provided personalized name and number signs for our spots in transition. Rev3 treated us like pros.

There were plenty of aid stations on the course with numerous volunteers, who were enthusiastic, helpful, and supportive all day. I suppose it is only appropriate that in the home of the Volunteers, they would be as fantastic as they were. The community was very supportive as well. The event felt big and important, the people of Knoxville welcomed us and made us feel at home, and there was coverage of the race on the news in the evening.

All in all, the combination of Rev3, the World's Fair Park/University of Tennessee campus venue, and the people of Knoxville made for a first rate race and experience. I can't recommend Rev3 or the Knoxville race strongly enough. It is a challenging, hilly course, but it is well worth the trip.