Kyle Yost

2004 Ironman Lake Placid Report – Kyle Yost

Event Time Rank (of 1961); (of 329)
Swim: 1:04:22 400; 70
T1: 6:10 320; 66
Start Bike: 1:10:32 330; 66
Bike: 5:21:38 47; 9
T2: 2:27 110; 20
Start Run: 6:34:37 69; 12
Run: 4:40:10 920; 183
Overall: 11:14:46 360; 80

Warmup:
The 2004 Ironman Lake Placid was the race around which all my training and racing revolved this year. For me this event was not particularly important as an opportunity to qualify for Hawaii, this race was my Hawaii. For a good eight months all of my training and an unhealthy portion of my social time were spent focused on this race. In addition to the high opportunity cost such a commitment brings, it also came at a large monetary expense. I spent a week in March training in the Pyrenees in northern Spain, organized ‘training camps’ in Lake Placid in May and in the Allegheny Mountains around Deep Creek Lake in western Md in June. I received regular massages to hopefully alleviate excessively tight muscles and the chronic cramping I’ve experienced in the past on the run as a result. I designed an Ironman nutrition strategy around the products from E-Caps/HammerNutrition, a company that provides powdered drinks and supplements designed for endurance athletes, after I experienced severe cramping and stomach distress in the 2002 Great Floridian, my only other attempt at the ironman distance.

This all-your-eggs-in-one-basket approach to the season is risky, but it paid off. On race morning I was healthy, I was arguably the fittest I have ever been in my life, my training and spring race results showed steady improvement and indicated I was ready to do something special, I was properly peaked and tapered for the day, and the weather was absolutely ideal for a day of racing. As I bobbed in Mirror Lake at 6:59am with 2000 other nervous athletes I felt strangely calm and excited about what was to come. I knew I was absolutely prepared for this race and that I was about to have a breakout performance and now all I needed to do was go out and actually do it.

Pre-Race:
I arrived in Lake Placid on a hot Thursday afternoon and hoped the heat would leave by Sunday. Over the next few days I got in a few swims in the lake, a couple of short bikes to sharpen the legs and ensure the bike was in proper working order, and some short runs to break a sweat. I stayed in a condo just outside of town with a mix of racing and spectating TeamBonzai folks and pretty much killed time until Sunday by watching the Tour de France and trying to stay away from the nervous energy around town.

Sunday morning I woke up at 4:30 and consumed my 400 calorie breakfast drink and watched in amazement as Bill Davis put a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and some protein powder in a blender and chugged the entire 2500 calorie concoction in about 10 seconds. Impressive as it was to watch, I find it hard to believe that 2500 fat calories is a wise pre-race meal, but Bill is experienced and he nearly ran me down at the end of the race so I won’t second guess him.

I gathered my gear and took one final look at my goal sheet I wrote up this winter and headed up to the start:

Ironman Lake Placid Goals (in ascending order of priority)
1. Finish
2. Run the marathon (avoid cramping, stomach issues)
3. 11:00
4. Hawaii
5. 10:00

On race morning, I knew finishing was likely barring catastrophe like a bike crash or major injury on the run. Goal #2, actually being able to run the marathon, was the key to the race. If I could actually run I wasn’t going to go much slower than 8 minute miles even in my death-shuffle. But if I was stuck in the porta-potties or constantly stopped stretching out cramps there was potential my marathon time could rival my bike time. This was what was to be avoided at all costs. If I met goal #2, there was an extremely high likelihood goal #3 would be met, and I figured a 10:15 would qualify for Hawaii (10:13 was necessary) and that a 3:30 marathon would accomplish that (turns out a 3:40 marathon would have done it). Goal #5, the 10:00 Ironman, was a bit of a stretch, but I could do the math that would make it happen and it would require solid bikes and runs. Stranger things have happened…..

Swim:
Historically, the swim has been my weak leg of the triathlon and there was no indication from my recent training to expect that to change this race. I’d been disappointed throughout the spring in my swim results and the direction my swim was heading in practice. After Memorial Day I had substantially increased my yardage by going to John Flanagan’s practices at Hains Point, my first foray into ‘real’ swim workouts for swimmers. Unfortunately, this approach seems to have failed me as my swim only seems to be getting slower, both in races and in practice. Clearly, it’s time to take a step back and evaluate what bad habits have crept into my stroke. But, on race morning I wasn’t terribly concerned. I wanted to have a good swim for the sake of having a good swim, but I knew it didn’t really matter whether I went 59 minutes or 65 minutes. I had learned in the Columbia Triathlon that overexerting during the swim can adversely affect the rest of your day, so the primary goal of the swim was to find a good, comfortable rhythm and to swim hard but not all out.

I lined up towards the left about 8-10 rows back with the strategy of getting past the dock, heading left and swimming to the inside of the buoys. I prefer to breathe to my right so this would allow me to sight off the masses of people fighting over the cable line that marked the course and held the buoys. The canon fired and chaos ensued. The start was not at all pleasant but was no worse than I had expected. I took a few shots and dished out a few of my own before I found some real estate off to the left as I had planned. It was crowded but I had few problems swimming inside the buoys until the first turnaround where everyone converges on the green buoy. At this point I was forced to head straight into the fray to get around the buoy and I took a solid kick square to the face, which luckily didn’t knock my goggles off but pretty much embedded them into head. I can definitely see how noses get broken during Ironman swims. Not wanting to cheat other competitors from getting full value out of their Ironman dollar, I passed the experience down the line and felt my heel connect with someone’s chin or forehead. You’re it, pass it on. The second leg was uneventful and easy swimming and soon enough I exited the water in about 30:30. I had hoped to be less than 30 minutes, but with the chaos of the start and the turnaround I wasn’t too surprised to be about a minute slower than expected. I ran the short stint on the beach, got back in the water and was probably around the dock back at the actual swim start by 31:30. I understood I wouldn’t be going under an hour, but 62 minutes was reasonable as I expected smoother sailing the second loop. The third leg was very pleasant and I followed the underwater cable marking the course. At times I think I allowed myself to get held up swimming behind folks going a little too slow but I was swimming comfortably and didn’t want to expend the energy to make the pass. The turnaround came much sooner than I expected and I actually swam right into the green turn buoy. Once again the turn was quite crowded and I kind of ducked down and went underwater and swam under the buoy more than actually went around it. I’m not quite sure what happened on the final leg, but I started to cramp, which is a little perplexing as I hardly use my legs at all when swimming with a wetsuit. First I had some inner quad cramping which wasn’t so much a problem as just annoying and reason for concern. Then, with maybe 400 meters to go I got a terrible and debilitating calf cramp in my right leg. This was a super-intense knot that pretty much stopped me in my tracks and caused me to look around for the nearest kayaker as I thought I might just sink right then and there. Now I’m being swum over by the masses and just trying to doggie paddle in to shore. Unfortunately, I have extensive experience with cramping, but this one was painful like no cramp I’d ever experienced and it wasn’t going to loosen up until I got on land. So, I limped on in swimming more vertically through the winter than horizontally, and finally exited with a huge mass of people in 64:22. Even considering the 90 seconds to two minutes I estimate I lost in the last 400 meters due to the cramp I was not pleased with this swim time, but I realized that in the scheme of the entire day the extra couple of minutes meant little and that I was in fine position moving on to my strengths of biking and running.

Swim time: 64:22, 400th overall, 70th age group.

T1:
Once on land I took a few gimpy steps and my calf very reluctantly began to release. I plopped down to have my wetsuit stripped and headed for the quarter mile jog to the transition area. Another downside to being a slow swimmer and exiting the water in the densest period is that the massive flow of people on the narrow pathway to the transition area hinders those of us who would like to make speedy work of the swim-bike transition and start recouping lost time. So, not only do us slow swimmers lose hard-earned minutes in the water to the fast swimmers, but we lose a few easy-earned minutes stuck in the logjam to transition. But, again, I understood the day was long and that a few seconds here and there meant nothing and that I had a 112 mile bike ride and a marathon run coming to resettle the score with the fishes.

Once in transition I grabbed my bag and emptied it on the floor in the changing tent. I sucked down about half of a water bottle of a 400 calorie drink and threw on my jersey which I had elected to not wear under my wetsuit so I wouldn’t be both cold and wet at the start of the long ride. I chose not to wear the armwarmers I had put in my bag, threw on my helmet, glasses, socks, and shoes, grabbed my bike from a volunteer and off I went for a scenic 112 miler in the hills.

T1 time: 6:10, 320th overall, 66th age group.
Start Bike time: 1:10:32, 330th overall, 66th age group

Bike:
It was quite a relief to be on the bike as I’d been looking forward to this ride for a long time. My biking has improved greatly over the past few years to the point where my bike leg is as equally potent a weapon as my run, and I’ve been a competitive runner since I was but a wee lad. Perhaps this is an indication I chose the wrong sport as a child. I had familiarized myself with the bike course with a heavy training weekend over Memorial Day and I absolutely loved the course. The course is challenging and hilly which usually is enough to scare a big guy like me away, but there aren’t really any hard, steep hills on this course, and the hills are well placed to break up long, flat, fast stretches of aerobar riding. My training had me perfectly prepared with a great base and lots of miles in the mountains, both on Skyline Drive and in the Alleghenies in western Md and southern Pa., not to mention the Pyrenees in Spain. And my spring race results showed excellent performances and steady improvements from a PR bike split at Columbia to a 24mph ride at the Eagleman Half to a top-10 overall split at Diamond in the Rough in my final tuneup two weeks before Lake Placid. So, suffice it to say, I started the Lake Placid ride confident that I was capable of uncorking a great ride, but focused on finding that small sweet spot of riding strong but not frying the legs. I went in to the ride with the expectation of a 5:25 to 5:30 bike split, but given the perfect weather and the fresh recollection of a pre-race conversation with training partner Tom Shinners who said I should expect a 5:15 split, I allowed myself to decrease my under-no-circumstances-no-faster-than time to 5:20.

The road was quite crowded with cyclists leaving town, which is to be expected as over 250 athletes exited the swim in the two minutes before and two minutes after me. Luckily the first eight or so miles are rolling hills with some decent climbs so the crowds didn’t present a terrible drafting problem. Nearly immediately Ted Waugh passed me on one of the initial climbs out of town. This confirmed that my swim was not exceptional and that Ted had a solid swim as we normally have very similar bike and run splits but I tend to gain some time on him in the water. This time my gain was a whopping six seconds. We chatted a bit and would pass each other back and forth many times over the next 30 or so miles. My legs felt great, although the climbs leading up to the long descent into Keane were tougher than I remembered. The six mile long screaming descent into Keane was fun and cold as expected. My numb hands then caused me to fail three times to successfully grab a water bottle at the next aid station, but that’s the only aid station all day in which I failed to get my planned water, so I stuck well to my nutrition plan, but more on that later. The ten mile stretch from Keane to Jay was fast and crowded, and there was a large drafting pack I could not extract myself from. The whole pack must have been a good 100 meters long and I made a few attempts to get clear by going off the front, but it was too fast and by the time I got off the front I knew I was going too hard so I backed off. Then everyone would pass me by and I would try to drop off the back but this was too slow. At one point I was riding alongside Daniel Labarca and I commented to him that “it looks like a team time trial out here” and he just looked at me funny. I guess he doesn’t know who I am. Ted and I expressed our frustration to each other a few times and then Ted got fed up and shot off the front. It was the last I saw him, but I must have passed him back at some point as he would later pass me on the run. I waited patiently for the climb out of Jay which did have the effect of breaking up the group. I encountered Julie Oplinger right before the turn in Jay; what an amazing race she was having. To think I had been talking smack this winter that I was going to beat her in the water. She swims 55 even and I’m nearly ten minutes behind her. That should teach me to shut up. The rest of the first loop was great. The climb out of Jay was easier than I remembered it, the out-and-back from Wilmington shorter and faster, and the long climb back to Lake Placid enjoyable and scenic. I passed Kirsten Ward at the start of the climb out of Wilmington and absolutely could not believe it. She had an incredible breakthrough swim in her first race as a pro. We’ve been swimming together at Hains Point and I am just slightly faster than her in the pool, but she walloped me with a 60 minute swim on raceday. Amazing! And then right at the top of Papa Bear I passed Mike Guzek hauling his 225 pounds over the summit. That man sure can climb for a big horse, but I still gave him a nice push on the rear to help him over the top (outside assistance?) and we chatted for a bit as we rolled down Northwinds Rd before he sent me on my way. I finished the first loop in 2:35 feeling great, enjoying the screams from the huge crowds, and actually looking forward to doing it all again.

I knew the second loop would be slower, but I was still a bit concerned that 2:35 might have been a little too fast even though everything felt great. So, I consciously backed off on the hills out of town, but even so they were noticeably more difficult the second time around. The first time I actually wasn’t enjoying myself on the ride was the final five or so miles of flat road into Jay. My legs continued to feel very good, but I started having some difficulties getting comfortable on the seat. This is why I’m glad the course has hills and areas where you can come out of the aerobars. I don’t think I’d fare well on a 112 mile flat and straight course like IM Florida. Here I encountered Dave Cascio and we exchanged greetings and would spend the rest of the ride passing each other back and forth. The climb out of Jay was a welcome change as it allowed me to change positions and get out of the aerobars for a bit. The final out-and-back from Wilmington was another flat and fast stretch and you got to see the other competitors coming the other way which helped take the mind off the fact that you’re 90+ miles in and still have a 10 mile climb ahead of you. At this point I caught Heather Fuhr which caused me to think she was having a bad day; it never had occurred to me my riding has gotten so strong that I would actually gain on the top women in the sport. Heather, Dave Cascio, and I rode most of the way up to Lake Placid together which was the first time of the day that the legs started to feel at all fatigued. I rolled through town once again basking in the cheers of the huge crowd and started to mentally prepare myself for the long run. I did the second loop in 2:46 which gave me a 5:21:38 bike split. The bike seemed relatively crowded the entire day and it seemed like I was being passed frequently, so never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed that this was the 47th fastest bike of the day and had moved me from 330th to 69th overall.

Bike time: 5:21:38, 47th overall, 9th age group.

T2:
The bike-to-run transition was pretty straightforward. I handed my bike off to a volunteer, grabbed my transition bag, and headed into the changing tent. This time the tent was nice and empty so I took a seat, emptied my bag, threw on my shoes, FuelBelt and hat, chugged about half a bottle of a 400 calorie drink mix, and took off on the run.

T2 time: 2:27, 110th overall, 20th age group.
Start Run: 6:34:37, 69th overall, 12th age group

Run:
The start of the run was kind of exciting because I exited transition right behind four-time champion Heather Fuhr and Andrea Fisher. Camera guys were running alongside each of them sticking the camera just inches from their face. How annoying. Andrea was going kind of slow so I pulled up right next to her and the camera guy looked at me with a look that said “Get the hell out of my way – you’re ruining my shot”, and I shot back a look that said “No, you get the hell out of my way because I paid $400 for this and I’ll run you over and step on your camera!”

The first mile was fine, which it had better be considering it was mostly downhill and it was just the first mile. The quads didn’t enjoy the downhill pounding, but all systems were go at the mile mark and I checked my watch and saw 7:00 even. Downhill or not, this was faster than I wanted so I slowed the pace to 7:20ish for the next few miles. The legs certainly felt the effect of a long, hard ride and I had the feeling that I might regret riding just a little too hard the last ten or so miles of the run. But, the legs didn’t feel like they were going to cramp and that was my biggest concern. Somewhere around the 3 or 4 mile mark it occurred to me that I was going to have a great day and something very near the ten hour mark was a real possibility. All I needed to do was cruise in the eight minute mile ballpark and I can do that even with tired legs. But, I can’t do that when I’m stopped at the side of the road stretching out cramps and that was my biggest fear and it was looking like I was going to be okay in that regards this time.

But all was not well. Around the mile four aid station I could tell my stomach wasn’t quite right and I thought it might be best to hit the porta-pottie. I took off running again and my stomach was definitely getting worse not better. Around mile 5 I saw Vaughn Cooper and David Glover coming the other way, no way I should be so close to these guys. Turns out each of them had subpar rides but came back with a fury on the run. Shortly before the turnaround I see Brady DeHoust coming back at me which means he must have passed me while I was in the port-a-pottie. He was having a fantastic day and would post a solid run and a 10:18 overall. At the turnaround my prospects are definitely taking a turn for the worse. My stomach is clearly not emptying as I can feel the fluids sloshing around, and to help me take my mind off this I get a tough hamstring cramp. I can tell I am already dehydrated as I’ve got goosebumps over my whole body and I haven’t needed to urinate the entire race. Combine this with a stomach that isn’t processing the fluids I’m putting in it and you’ve got a recipe for a tough day. But, I press on at a very deliberate pace just trying to settle in to a rhythm where I’m making decent forward progress and not having to stop to stretch out cramps or take port-a-pottie breaks. I’m now walking the aid stations and trying to get in water, coke, and pretzels. I’m measuring my progress one aid station at a time and setting a decent pace when running between stations. Problem is I’m either stopping to use the port-a-pottie or to throw up at each aid station and I’m losing the urgency to jump right out and immediately resume running after each of these incidents. I get back to town after 11 miles still doing reasonably well but terribly frustrated at how the day is unraveling before me. Shortly before the 12 mile turnaround my day goes from bad to disastrous as I encounter serious problems. I feel my stomach sloshing around and realize I am shortly going to throw up. I pull over into someone’s lawn where the family is calmly watching the race in their lawn chairs and I unload. My previous vomiting had been more or less just coughing back up what I had just consumed at an aid station. This one was an unleashing of huge volumes of liquid, again and again and again. I hear some guy say, “Man, that sucks”, and remember thinking what an understatement that was. As I stood back up I got really dizzy and just kind of fell over sideways. At this point the family is coming to my aid (outside assistance?) with some bottled water and I hear a volunteer directing traffic behind me radio that an athlete needs medical assistance. This, I know, is not good, and for the first time it occurs to me that it is entirely possible I may not finish the race. I still have eight and a half hours to cover the final 14 miles and I could crawl it in that time, but not if medical yanks me from the race. So, I sit on the curb for a few minutes regaining my bearings and just walk away before medical arrives on the scene.

I actually felt much better after this incident but based on the volume of liquid I expelled I knew that I was severely dehydrated and hadn’t been absorbing any fluids for quite some time, likely the entire run. Well, nothing to do except take it one mile at a time and try to drink at every aid station and hope I can absorb at least some of it. I hit halfway at 2:02 and realize if I can do the last 13.1 in 2:23 I can still break 11 hours. That’s 140 minutes to cover 13 miles, and as long as I can maintain a trot between aid stations I can surely pull that off. Truth is, I don’t remember all that much about miles 13 to 21 except that I found a groove, albeit a pathetic groove, and just took it one mile at a time. I would run about a half mile, allow myself 50 meters or so to walk, then run to the next aid station where I would gulp down some water and eat a handful of pretzels as I walked the length of the station. Frequently what I just consumed would soon come right back up but I bet that enough stayed down to allow me to continue to make forward progress. I had to stop once or twice at the porta-potties, but all in all, voiding my stomach entirely at the 12 mile mark marked the worst of my GI issues for the day. At some point during this 8 mile stretch Tom Shinners and Ted Waugh passed me by, both going on to post fine performances with Tom qualifying for Hawaii for the umpteenth time and Ted narrowly missing a slot.

I remember hitting 21.1 miles at 10 hours even, so I had a full hour to cover the last five miles and still get in under 11. But, the wheels had been wobbling badly for the previous 16 miles and now they fell off completely. I had somehow managed to walk/jog 10 minute miles for the previous 8 miles in survival mode, but that was all she wrote. I was severely bonked and dehydrated and I couldn’t resume running after the 21 mile aid station. I must have started to look quite bad as volunteers told me to take my time and many athletes passing me slowed to make sure I was OK. Somewhere in the 22 – 23 mile range Kirsten Ward passed me by, and while stomach issues hindered her day as well she was toughing it out and finishing quite strong and would still manage to post a 10:50 despite all her difficulties. Amazing! She encouraged me to try and start running with her, but she was really flying and I was just trying to walk straight. We were following two very different trajectories at that point. It’s a real shame as we did quite a bit of training together for this race and I would have loved to have been able to run in with her on this day. At one point maybe a mile outside of town I decided I needed to stop and sit at the side of the road the thought crossed my mind that I could take a five or six hour nap and then finish when I was recovered and the idea of doing so seemed quite appealing. After a few minutes of slumping in the grass another competitor stopped and shook me out of my stupor and convinced me to get moving again. I walked the mile or so into town and up the final hill. At the 25 mile turnaround I forced myself into a jog for the final mile and was quite angry to discover that once the stiffness in my legs eased I felt reasonably good. I guess the hour-long walk and rest at the side of the road had settled my stomach and rested my legs. I saw Mike Guzek on the out-and-back, and the fact that he had not caught me meant that he was struggling mightily on the run as well which is a real shame as he had prepared fantastically for this race and was set for a real breakthrough. But, like the trooper he is he toughed it out to the finish line and you’ll never hear a word of complaint from him. The last mile passed quickly and suddenly I was on the speed-skating oval and across the finish line.

Run time: 4:40:10, 920th overall, 183th age group.
Overall time: 11:14:46, 360th overall, 80th age group

Post-Race:
I was immediately scurried away from the finish area and into the medical tent. At the pre-race registration I was weighed in at 190 wearing minimal clothing and no shoes. On the same scale after the race I weighed 176 including my running shoes and my FuelBelt which contained two full flasks, so I lost a good 15 pounds during the day, presumably most or all of that during the run. This was a bit alarming to the medical personnel so they plopped me on a cot and took my vitals. My temperature was normal, my blood pressure only slightly low (100/50), and I was pretty lucid so they pumped me full of fluids and let me go in less than an hour. Once rehydrated and rested I felt quite good considering the ordeal I had just put myself through. The legs felt a little worse for wear, but all in all they didn’t feel like they’d just put in a 140.6 mile day. I sent my parents on their way and stuck around cheering on friends and strangers to the finish. It was fun as darkness approached encouraging folks to race it in before night fell. The energy at an IM finish is intoxicating and it was amazing to see the smiles on the athletes nearing the finish and the spectators and volunteers still cheering loudly after such a loud day.

Warm-Down:
So, what happened? I wish there were an easy and obvious answer. I used the same nutrition plan in the race that I’ve used successfully all season in training. My caloric drink of choice is a 50/50 mixture of E-caps products Sustained Energy and Perpetuem, augmented with Endurolytes powder for electrolytes. In training I’ve used this solution on all rides aiming for roughly 350-400 calories an hour and about 30-40 ounces of water an hour depending on the heat and humidity. On runs I aim for roughly the same intake but generally actually consume somewhat fewer calories. I have had absolutely no incidents of stomach distress or low energy problems throughout all of my training using these products, so what is different about race day? First of all, there is the hour-long swim which is not an element of the long brick workout days. I’d be surprised if the swim is the cause of my stomach ills on the run, but I’ll consider all possibilities. Secondly, the intensity level of the bike was slightly greater than the typical training ride, although it was far less than a race like Eagleman and I had no stomach issues there using the same nutrition strategy. At Lake Placid I consumed four water bottles of 600 calories each and hydrated with about ¾ of a water bottle of water roughly every ten miles. This is 2400 calories plus a shot or two of Hammergel plus a large swig of my solution in each transition, so call it 3000 calories over 5.5 hours, which translates to 550 calories per hour. I had absolutely no stomach or energy problems on the bike, but as I was aiming for 400-450 calories per hour, perhaps I consumed too many calories on the bike and this caused my stomach to shut down just in time for the run. More telling is the fact that I never had the urge to urinate the entire day which is a strong indication I did not drink enough water. I find this very hard to believe as I would grab a water bottle of water at each aid station about every ten miles and try to kill it and then throw it aside. This is probably more water than I would get on a normal training ride yet I often have the urge to urinate during training but never did during this race. Finally, I didn’t really seem to suffer any issues on the run, or at least any issues that would have raised alarm bells in training, until mile 5 or so of the run. In training I rode 100 miles or longer countless times and likewise I ran 10 miles or longer countless times, but never did I do both of those in one training session so perhaps I always have this issue but my post-bike runs were always too short. The workout that most closely mimicked the race I did three weeks before with Kirsten Ward, and it was a 108 mile hilly ride at 20mph followed by an 8 mile run at 7:15 pace. I followed my exact race-day nutrition strategy that day and had no stomach issues whatsoever. At this point, my best guess is that I consumed a bit too many calories and bit too little water on the bike, and perhaps rode at a slightly too high intensity level on the bike, and this combination of factors caused my stomach to shut down somewhere late in the ride or early in the run.

An obvious option that I must consider given the results is that I rode too hard on the bike. I am not terribly surprised with the 5:21 split, but I am terribly surprised that that is good enough for 47th fastest of the day. I highly doubt that I am the 47th best rider out on the course. Other statistics back up the theory that I rode too hard, such as the fact that I beat David Glover and Vaughn Cooper on the bike and that aside from Kate Major’s insane 5:06 ride I broke the previous women’s bike course record. I’m strong on the bike, but not that strong so maybe I overexerted. In some respects I was relieved to hear that David’s relatively slow bike split was due to his own stomach issues and that Vaughn’s split due to inconsistent training due to a bike crash. Other splits indicate that maybe I didn’t overexert on the bike. Traditionally I have similar bike splits to both Brady DeHoust and Ted Waugh and on this day I beat each of them by roughly three minutes which is very little. And, usually, I can run with or near those guys but this day they ran fine and I could not. So, perhaps I rode too hard or perhaps I didn’t. It’s hard to say. I felt awfully comfortable on the bike. And, if the only way I can run a marathon after a 112 mile ride is to do a six hour ride, well, I’m not interested.

It is now eight days after the race and I am recovered, both physically and mentally. My legs were sore the day after the race and then quickly recovered with the exception of my right calf which cramped in the swim. Amazingly, that still hurts like someone took to it with a sledgehammer although it is getting better by the day. Mentally I have struggled over the past week. I felt an initial euphoria from having finished considering the substantial obstacles I overcame to make it to the finish line. But, as time passed that euphoria subsided and has been replaced by general sadness that all the stars had aligned for me and I wasn’t able to take advantage of the opportunity. Never again will I be this prepared for a race. It just isn’t practical and the sacrifices to personal and career lives are too much to go through another eight month stint preparing for a single race. The weather was better than ideal, it was absolutely perfect. The course was perfect for me, hell, even the swim had a lane line! And I blew it. This acknowledgement has been tough for me to accept, but it is reality and I’ve come to terms with it. Triathlon, and this one race in particular, have been very important to me, but in the grand scheme of things it is nothing more than a hobby and a trivially unimportant one at that. I enjoy triathlon, and I enjoy the training and having gotten myself back into shape, and I love the friends I have made through this sport. But, I don’t like the lack of balance that has evolved in my life and I don’t like the all-your-eggs-in-one-basket approach that Ironman necessitates. I’m not quitting the sport and I’m not claiming I will never take another shot at an Ironman, because I’m a stubborn fool and I probably will.

Congratulations to all my friends and training partners who completed the day. A few, like Julie, had the race of their lives, most had solid performances, and a couple, like me, struggled to make it in. But, everyone finished and sometimes I lose perspective of just how impressive that alone is. Congratulations!!

# posted by Kyle Yost : 10:02 PM