Soma Half Iron Triathlon - Triathlon1/2 Ironman

This swim has been on my mind for an entire year. There were a lot of factors that concerned me: it was going to be my longest open water swim ever, each start wave had a ton of people to thrash around, no time to get used to the water before the start, hearing that the water was 68 degrees (which is COLD to me), a long history of open water meltdowns in Tempe, and the pressure of knowing that the success of a long, long day hinged on a good start all were weighing on me. However, my success the last weekend in Lake Mead, a lot of training over the past year, and a decent Splash and Dash training session in early October all mitigated my fears. I knew deep down that I could stay calm and finally solve Tempe Town Lake. To fight the cold, I wore two swim caps and earplugs to keep the cold water out of my ears.

I got into the water with about 3 minutes until the start. I got off to the side and held onto a dock, dippng my head into the water to get used to it until the horn sounded. A calm swept over me as I went inside the start buoy and started a smooth swim. I made a decision to stay close to the shore since I had a long way to go to the turn and I could angle inside as I got closer. I feel calmer when the shore is close and I could stay away from other swimmers that way. A big bonus was that Jenna was walking along the shore and following me. I was able to see her each time I turned to breathe. This scenario resembles when we go to Lake Pleasant to train - it really helped me stay in a calm place, even when wayward swimmers came along and knocked me off rhythm.

I reached the first turn and knew that I was almost halfway done. I was going 15-30 strokes and then coming up to sight, catch my breath, and redirect myself because I swim off to the right Staying so far off to the side was adding a lot of distance but was doing wonders for my sense of calm and rhythm. Since they changed the swim cutoff to 9:00am, I knew that missing the cut wasn't a factor and that relieved some pressure. I knew I was going to get through it unscathed. I got out of the water in 61 minutes - the pace is slow for me on a good day, but probably resulted from a lot of added distance. Regardess, I had started the day well and my chances of finishing my first half ironman had just increased dramtically with the most worrisome portion out of the way.

Not a thing - I took a strategy to sacrifice time for comfort and it paid off immeasurably.

S-L-O-W transition. I knew I had a long day ahead of me - spending an extra minute or two in transition didn't make a difference to me for my first HIM. I also had to stop at the restroom before hitting the bike course.

Nothing - I made sure I had everything I needed and got ready to ride.

Since I knew I would be on the bike for around three hours and have to follow it with a half marathon, I didn't push hard. I just wanted to maintain a comfortable pace and avoid mishaps and burning my legs out with several more hours to go. I also concentrated on drinking Infinit as I had planned (for those who don't know, it is a customized drink mix that combines carbohydrates, proteins, amino acids, and electrolytes - it replaces having to eat or use gels, bars, and other supplements on the course). It was going to have to sustain me for close to seven hours, and if I didn't start early, I was going to suffer for it later when the heat rose. I have made bad decisions in other races with regard to hydration and nutrition, and the stakes were too high to fall into the same traps. I knew if I stayed smart and conservative I would have the race that I had planned. I finished my aerobottle on the first loop, my extra bottle on the second, and then had to get a little creative. I had pre-prepared a bag of Infinit mix that I took out and dumped into the aerobottle. I then took a water handoff at an aid station and poured the water into the bottle to mix with the powder. It worked out well and didn't slow me down.

I saw Jenna on each loop of the bike. She outdid herself with finding new spots from which to watch and get good angles for pictures. She took some good ones, and in many of them, I am smiling for the camera since things were going well for me.

The only other concern I had was with the mechanics of my bike. I had developed a problem early in the week with my middle front chainring - the one that I use most often. A tooth was bent, and there was no time to get a new part to replace it, so the mechanic bent and filed the tooth back into shape to temporarily fix the issue. The gears were working fine, but I stayed in the big ring with a similar gearing combination as often as possible to remove any doubt.

Each loop got a little hotter and a little slower. My first loop went by in 55 minutes, the second 56, and the third took me 61. However, the pace was comfortable and I was making decent time. I saw Milton and Jerry on the bike course. I talked to Milton briefly, but I don't think Jerry saw me. After the 56 miles were over, I was glad to get off the bike. I was getting a little tired, and still had a long run ahead, but now the possibility of mechanical failure was removed from the equation. The only thing stopping me from completing my first 70.3 event was me and my own two feet.

Nothing - I made the decision to race conservatively in order to finish. I sacrificed my bike leg a little to keep something left for the run

Another slow transition where I took my time and needed to use the restroom again. No big deal - I had to get myself right before starting the run.

Nothing - I needed the time and the stop.

The run wasn't pretty but it was about what I expected. I was slow but just wanted to keep moving. Barring an unforeseen injury, I was going to finish. The rest was only details. I nearly had that unforeseen injury. I was only in the first mile and was running along a sidewalk. I heard footsteps behind me and turned slightly to look over my shoulder. I clumsily stepped on the edge of the sidewalk and turned my ankle. I screamed out in pain, but after walking a few steps and starting to run again, it felt okay. I just held out hope that it wouldn't stiffen up on me later. Thankfully, it didn't. (By the way, if this story sounds familiar, it is because I did the EXACT same thing on the EXACT same sidewalk in my first Soma race two years ago).

The first loop went by without too much incident. I stopped at every aid station, drank two cups of water and dumped one over my head to cool down. I didn't want to let stubbornness or stupidity get in the way at this point, so I kept drinking and trying to stay cool. I finally saw Jerry and Tanya on an out and back in between mile 4 and 5. Seeing some friendly familiar faces, people who I train with, lifted my spirits a little. In a long event like this one, it is easy to fall into a rut and get inside your own head a little. Seeing them snapped me out of it and brought my focus back.

I started the second loop, finished my first bottle of Infinit and mixed a second at the first aid station. I only had about 6 miles to go. Even though I had been out there for about 5 1/2 hours at that point and was nearing the end, it still seemed like a long way. Miles 7-10 were the worst. I was in the remote area on the Northwest side of the lake, the crowd had thinned out, and the heat was rising with no shade or shelter in sight. It is during that time when you have to remind yourself of the bigger picture and why you do this. I kept telling myself that it was alomost over and that a brighter part of the course was just around the bend. I got to the aid station at mile 10 and things looked up. I saw Jerry and Tanya again and got a needed boost. After finishing the out and back and seeing the sign for mile 11, I knew I was in the home stretch. I actually passed a couple of people in my age group and ran for a little bit with a 54 year old Ironman finisher. He was telling me about his IM race and that inspired me a little bit. We passed the 12 mile mark and I asked him if we get anything for 69.2 miles. At that point in the day, we both needed a laugh (or were delirious from exhaustion and heat - I haven't quite decided). When we got about a half mile from the finish, I told him I wanted to finish strong and left him. I felt really good going under the bridge and appoaching Mill Ave. I passed the team tents and took the right turn on Mill. There was the finish and I had completed the HIM.

Nothing - I got what I could out of myself. Pushing harder may have resulted in a meltdown.

Jenna met me at the finish and we walked over to the food tent and found my friends. We socialized a little before getting my bike and transition stuff and heading out.


While I don't think I had an exceptional physical day, I think this race accurately reflects where I am right now. With additional training and experience, I will improve, but I got everything I had out of myself in this race.


Wow - where to start... The last two weekends were the culmination of a year of work. Literally, not a single day passed where I didn't think about Pumpkinman or Soma. I have to admit that there is a slightly empty space now that they are both over. However, that space will soon be filled with something else, possibly something bigger. Looking back over the year, it has been filled with countless training sessions, most of them unremarkable on their own. A few stand out (the marathon, the 100 mile ride, a few others), but very few have any individual significance. What you hope all along is that when they are all woven together, they represent a tapestry of preparation that allow you to have the race that you hope for. I think that was the case for me. I don't remember all of the training, but it all ended up being important and went into making the last two weekends successful.

I also had wondered (or obsessed, depending on your point of view) about scheduling my two biggest races on consecutive weekends. I thought that racing Pumpkinman might put my performance at Soma in jeopardy. Using strategic tapering during each lead up week, I felt good and perpared for each race. It really ended up being a non-factor, and I had my two best races when I really wanted to have them.

This year at Soma will always be special. It was my first HIM, and I was able to do it in the same event where I really got my start. It is amazing to look back at what a difference two years has made, physically and mentally. Not only do I feel capable of doing more now, but I also have learned to do it smarter and avoid mistakes that I used to make. In addition, it was a beautiful day that I got to share with Jenna and a lot of my friends. All things considered, it really was perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better experience for my first half ironman.