Scorching heat, a broken toe, a time penalty for a transition area infringement, a wrongly adjusted rear shifter – none of those things could stop me in Otepää. Finally, after many hardships, I was able to perform well and to my own satisfaction.
Ever since the Tristar series was introduced I have wanted to try the 1-100-10K race distance, and this Sunday I finally got the chance. The 1-100-10K race in beautiful Otepää, renamed Trismile after the Tristar series was buried provided the opportunity to try out a race where I could happily bike my legs off without getting killed during the run. Theoretically, the distance should be ideal for me, who usually is stronger on the bike, but a weaker runner.
The distance is quite challenging in the sense that the swim and bike legs must be seen as entirely separate entities. In a normal triathlon race, you can do the swim at a slightly higher intensity level than the rest of the race. But a swim as short as 1 000 metres means you must go flat out all the way.
On the other hand, the bike requires a slightly different approach. It is not possible to maintain a level of effort above your lactate threshold for more than 2 hours, so you will have to slow down.
Finally, the run is only 10K, which means that you should go fast. But by then, after 100K of cycling fast, you already feel the weight of accumulated lactate in your legs.
My preparations were far from ideal, as I had accidentally dropped a heavy object on my foot one week earlier and suffered serious bruise damage to my fourth toe on the right. It didn't prevent me from running, but it was awfully sore and swollen. In order to relieve the pain, I bought a pair of new, one size too big Zoot race shoes from the expo area before the race. Not exactly what the beginner's guide would instruct you to do.
Me and the other guys from Helsinki Triathlon were staying in the spa, right next to the race centre. There was no need for setting the alarm clock, since the organisers started playing disco music at ear deafening volume at around 8 am.
It was really hot already in the morning, and I waited until the very last moment to pull on my wet suit. Pearls of sweat were running down my cheeks as I eagerly awaited the start signal in the scorching sun.
We were starting in waves of some 150 at a time, but it got quite chaotic and crowded in the small lake when the start signal sounded. I got hit with an elbow in the jaw, sending my head backwards, right into someone's hand that struck me in the back of the head. It only got my adrenaline running, and I managed a satisfying, if not quite as fast as I had expected, swim split time of 17.43.
I entered the transition, bursting with adrenaline, and ran like a bull through the zone, collecting my gear and my bike as I went for the transition line. Unfortunately, in my excitement I jumped on the bike a couple of inches before the pink line. Realizing my mistake as I heard someone blow a whistle, I desperately tried to correct it by putting one foot to the ground. Too little, too late, as I would later discover.
My friends who had done the race before told me that the bike leg would be really flat and fast, and me, in my naivity, believed them. The bike course consisted of three laps of 31K, with an extra 10K lap to begin with.
The extra lap turned out to be quite hard, with several difficult hills with sharp gradients and technical descents. I was really pushing the gears, refusing to shift down even in the sharpest hills and ignoring the burning lactate. My heart rate was constantly pushing 170, which would be a heart rate I could maintain for a 1 hour sprint race - not for a 3.30-4 hour race.
The rest of the bike course was not entirely flat either, with one especially mean, several kilometers long, false ascent. During the second lap, I got into a better rhythm and felt more comfortable. My heart rate fell to a more normal rate of around 155.
As usual when racing in Estonia, there were a lot of good cyclists, which means I found myself in the unusual situation of being overtaken more than once or twice during the bike leg. Especially some of the relay guys, who started ten minutes after my wave, were coming awfully fast.
Luckily, there was were little drafting. At least I saw little of it. However, club mate Petteri Grönholm got caught in a group and unjustly got penalized. There are always those who try to cheat, and sometimes it is the wrong guys who gets punished.
It was steaming hot, and I started to feel badly dehydrated, despite drinking about 1,5 litres during the bike leg. As I approached the transition area for the last time, I was convinced I would soon be a slalom pole for the faster runners. Only the relatively short distance would prevent me from losing too many placements.
I finished the bike leg in a time of 2.41, with an average speed of little more than 37 kph. My legs felt like timber when I ran through the transition and picked up my run gear, including my brand new Zoots. I felt a slight tingle as I pulled them on, having no idea how it would feel to race with them – not to mention how my bruised toe would react to a 10K run.
However, I felt surprisingly strong as I went out for the run. And I soon discovered there were a lot of athletes out there who had really outdone themselves on the bike. Even I, usually a weak runner, could overtake several rivals. The heat was punishing, but I was self confident a mere 10K would pose no problem. More importantly, my toe was not causing any problems.
But after 3K, the mishap in the transition area would come back to haunt me. As I approached the penalty box, the officials shouted out my number and I had to stop. 30 seconds is not even half of a pee break, but it felt like an eternity when you are just standing there and doing nothing but watch your rivals you just overtook run by.
When I finally got running again, I was more motivated than ever to hit back. I quickly caught up with the guys who had passed me while I was in the penalty box and kept going.
The run course was psychologically easy, with a 3K back-and-forth lap followed by another, 7K back-and-forth lap in the other direction. There were a couple of hills, but I suffered more on the subsequent descents, as I had to be careful with my bruised toe. It didn´t hurt to run, but it was sore when the toe was pushed towards the front of the shoe.
I finished with a run split of 48.57, which includes the 30 second penalty. My total time was 3.54.18, which would give me a 14th place out of some 150 in my category. Fortunately, I didn't lose any placements due to the time penalty.
After finishing, I immediately felt some chills and realized I was badly dehydrated. During the following hours, I drank some 2.5 litres of waters – but it wasn't until some five hours later that I had to empty my bladder.
Even so, I felt absolutely great after the race. No muscle pains, cramps or any other problems usually associated with a triathlon race. That is of course due to the shorter-than-usual run – maybe this is my new favourite distance.
Still, it is the ironman distance that is the real challenge. Hopefully, I can build on the success in Otepää in the Ironman Copenhagen two weeks from now.
'
måndag 5 augusti 2013
lördag 20 juli 2013
A mirror image
First of all, those were not waves. I'll get back to that.
I was totally unprepared, or, rather, overprepared, for the Finntriathlon half distance race. I am in the middle of intense preparation for the main event this season, which would be the Ironman Copenhagen on 18th Augusti.
Thus, I was putting in some hard training right up until the eve of the race. Even on Friday, I did some really hard running intervals and some easier swimming. Perhaps not the recommended preparation for a half distance triathlon, out of the beginners' guide.
The background is that I, after much consideration, finally came to the conclusion that I am far too partial and, I admit, too convenient, to be my own coach. Somewhere along the road, I became tired of dwindling results and injuries. So from now on fellow triathlete and triathlon coach Yan Busset will do the thinking for me as far as training programs go.
After only a couple of days I realize that I have done way too much lopsided, single speed, volume training – and far too little running and swimming with good quality. And my results are a mirror image of my training
And my performance in Joroinen, a little fatigued I might have been, really is the problems with my training thus far in a nutshell. It was actually the slowest time I have done on a half distance in years, not counting the hilly Half-Challenge Barcelona in May earlier this year.
It was really unbelievable to see the 1 000 participants on the beach of the Valvatus Lake and their bikes in the transition area in Joroinen, almost like an international race. The organisers had, wisely, it would turn out, chosen to have the start done in waves by category.
During the swim, though, it didn't seem to be a wise decision, because you immediately swam into the slower swimmers from the waves ahead of you. There was also some turbulence in the water, but it was like swimming in a bath tub compared to some rough sea swims I have done in the past. It might have cost a few seconds, but I don't agree at all with those who claim the swim was somehow difficult due to the waves. I think my swim was in line with my performances earlier this summer – 35 minutes.
The transition was super slow, even by my standards. The weather forecast was rain and +15 and I was being a sissy, pulling on a jersey and long sleeves.
I felt comfortable on the bike, however, and thanks to the wave starts there was not as much traffic as usual on the roads. In fact, there was amazingly little drafting and riding in groups this year, compared to earlier years. I perform best when I get to ride at my own pace (not least because I am one of those who actually respect other competitors and drop back if I get overtaken). I was easily able to maintain an average speed of 37,5 kph, despite some heavy winds at times. Easily, as my heart rate hovered around 145, and I didn't have to put in any effort to speak of.
The transition to running went a bit faster, with the help of a lot of baby powder in my shoes. I knew that people always rush out at the start of the run, but I was determined to maintain my own pace and do my own race. After all, this was intended as a practice run.
The run went according to plan, although considerably slower than I was able to run a couple of years ago. I have enough aerobic capacity, but my neuromuscular capacity is restraining me – i just can't run fast enough at the moment. Still, a little faster than in Barcelona, and feeling a little better.
Finishing the race, I was already looking forward to Copenhagen and, as well, to next season. There is much room for improvement, with some smarter and more variated training than before.
I was totally unprepared, or, rather, overprepared, for the Finntriathlon half distance race. I am in the middle of intense preparation for the main event this season, which would be the Ironman Copenhagen on 18th Augusti.
Thus, I was putting in some hard training right up until the eve of the race. Even on Friday, I did some really hard running intervals and some easier swimming. Perhaps not the recommended preparation for a half distance triathlon, out of the beginners' guide.
The background is that I, after much consideration, finally came to the conclusion that I am far too partial and, I admit, too convenient, to be my own coach. Somewhere along the road, I became tired of dwindling results and injuries. So from now on fellow triathlete and triathlon coach Yan Busset will do the thinking for me as far as training programs go.
After only a couple of days I realize that I have done way too much lopsided, single speed, volume training – and far too little running and swimming with good quality. And my results are a mirror image of my training
And my performance in Joroinen, a little fatigued I might have been, really is the problems with my training thus far in a nutshell. It was actually the slowest time I have done on a half distance in years, not counting the hilly Half-Challenge Barcelona in May earlier this year.
It was really unbelievable to see the 1 000 participants on the beach of the Valvatus Lake and their bikes in the transition area in Joroinen, almost like an international race. The organisers had, wisely, it would turn out, chosen to have the start done in waves by category.
During the swim, though, it didn't seem to be a wise decision, because you immediately swam into the slower swimmers from the waves ahead of you. There was also some turbulence in the water, but it was like swimming in a bath tub compared to some rough sea swims I have done in the past. It might have cost a few seconds, but I don't agree at all with those who claim the swim was somehow difficult due to the waves. I think my swim was in line with my performances earlier this summer – 35 minutes.
The transition was super slow, even by my standards. The weather forecast was rain and +15 and I was being a sissy, pulling on a jersey and long sleeves.
I felt comfortable on the bike, however, and thanks to the wave starts there was not as much traffic as usual on the roads. In fact, there was amazingly little drafting and riding in groups this year, compared to earlier years. I perform best when I get to ride at my own pace (not least because I am one of those who actually respect other competitors and drop back if I get overtaken). I was easily able to maintain an average speed of 37,5 kph, despite some heavy winds at times. Easily, as my heart rate hovered around 145, and I didn't have to put in any effort to speak of.
The transition to running went a bit faster, with the help of a lot of baby powder in my shoes. I knew that people always rush out at the start of the run, but I was determined to maintain my own pace and do my own race. After all, this was intended as a practice run.
The run went according to plan, although considerably slower than I was able to run a couple of years ago. I have enough aerobic capacity, but my neuromuscular capacity is restraining me – i just can't run fast enough at the moment. Still, a little faster than in Barcelona, and feeling a little better.
Finishing the race, I was already looking forward to Copenhagen and, as well, to next season. There is much room for improvement, with some smarter and more variated training than before.
fredag 12 juli 2013
A good practice run
I have always had a thing with cold water. So I wasn't exactly thrilled to learn the water temperature in the Swedish lake Vättern was around 15 degrees two weeks before the Swedish championships long distance race in Motala.
If you are not perfectly familiar with the terminology of triathlon, the international long distance is a bit shorter than the famous ironman distance – however, the swim is a bit longer, 4K instead of 3,8K.
In the days leading up to the race, I was actually kind of hoping the water would not get any warmer, thus forcing the organizers to shorten the swim. Fat chance.
Somehow, race organizers always seem to be able to find the right spot in the water to measure the temperature. A couple of days before the race, the water temperature amazingly rose from 15 degrees to 16 degrees to 17 degrees.
My anxiety wasn't relieved by the fact my travelling companion, Kim Harju is a swim freak who thrives in exceptionally cold water. For me, comfortable temperature for a wet suit swim is around 20 degrees.
I got so desperate I got me one of those really gay and unaesthetic neoprene hoods, which you are allowed to wear under your swim cap. It really helps keeping your body temperature high, because, contrary to popular belief, you lose most heat via your head, not for example your fingers and toes.
On the race morning, the water temperature was 16,5 degrees while the air temperature was 15 degrees. Thus, the real water temperature was 16 degrees – precisely at the limit.
The start happened in the water, but I waited until the very last minute to jump into the lake. Besides, the organisers warned that there is a lot of glass on the bottom of the lake, so I wasn't about to be standing around in the water anyway.
It felt cold. Awfully cold. Fingers and toes disappeared after a couple of minutes. Good thing was, it was easy to navigate, because you could use landmarks, like a bridge and buildings on the shore, for navigation. Bad thing was, after one 2000 m lap I could not straighten my fingers any more – I was just dragging my limp hands through the water.
After a swim that felt like it would never end, I came out of the water and entered the transition area, mostly lucky to have made it without suffering hypothermia symptoms (done that, too). This time, the transition went quite fast, because I had, for the first time during my fifteen years of doing triathlons, tried to apply vaseline to my ankles. Thus, the wet suit came off quite nicely.
I went out as hard as I could on the bike and I was really flying, but soon I had to settle into a more gentle pace. Even though the course was quite flat, it was somewhat windy, and there were some rather technical corners which slowed me down.
Most of the traffic was redirected, but there were a few segments where there was plenty of traffic and it could have gotten really ugly. There were a couple of roundabouts, where you had to cross your way around the slower cars. Needless to say, the drivers didn't seem to care about the race happening all around them.
It was noteworthy to see how little drafting there was, compared to most races in Finland and, also, most Ironman races around Europe. The draft zone was exceptionally 12 meters, and I didn't think I saw anyone breaking that rule. Of course, there were only around 250 athletes on the road, and it was a 4 times 30 km bike course. But I think it is a matter of respect – as soon as you overtook someone, they fell back and didn't hang on to your draft zone.
Except for the wind, the weather was really good for racing. I soon got warm and was able to raise my cadence and speed during the second and third lap. Of course, a thunder storm was rising and soon cold rain was pouring down. The temperature dropped to around 10 degrees, and I praised myself for having to foresight to don long sleeves.
The rain was intense, but short. As the bike leg was nearing the end, the wet asphalt was steaming in the sun. My heart rate was approaching 150 beats per minute, up from around 135 at the beginning of the bike leg. I finished the bike leg with an average speed of 35 kph, which was perhaps a little bit less than expected.
Still, 120K felt like quite a trip, and I couldn't escape the thought it was merely a third of an ironman bike leg. As I approached transition, though, I was more acutely worried about how I would manage my first 30K run in almost two years.
Returning to the transition are, I found my running shoes and gear soaking wet. As I set out for the run, I heard a splashing sound from the water in my K-Swiss shoes.
As expected, I felt stiff and uncomfortable. But as the rule of thumb goes, it is normal to feel awful during the first 1-2 kilometers, but after that, as your neurological system, your blood flow and your muscles adapt to running, it gets easier.
The false high usually hits you after 5 kilometers, when you start hitting your stride and do not feel any fatigue yet. That is when you manage to pace yourself – otherwise it will come back to haunt you later on in the race.
I didn't. And it came back to haunt me.
Problem is, at the moment I am a much faster cyclist than runner. Consequently, I overtook dozens of competitors during the bike leg, only to turn into a slalom pin at the beginning of the run. And, although you know you should race your own race, it is hard to fight your instincts to put up a fight when someone overtakes you.
First 15K went well, but then the backlash hit me. The only really positive thing at that stage was that the run course turned out to be a 3 times 10K affair. Somehow I had gotten the perception it would be a psychologically challenging 4 times 7,5K.
And then another thunder storm hit us, like the wrath of the viking gods. Suddenly, it was freezing cold again and my shoes and socks were all covered in mud as the run course swirled through a park and a forest area near the shore of Vättern.
If the last 5K of the second lap was a battle, the last 10K lap was mayhem. I was at the stage where people seem to be walking by you and every single step hurts a bit. And then, you may have guessed it, yet another thunder storm hit us. And this was bad. The wind was whipping rain into our faces as we ran along the shore towards the finish line.
But it is always fun to race in Sweden. The atmosphere is really good, spectators and competitors are supportive. Of course, you may feel a sting of hurt pride when someone overtakes you and quips "good job, keep going". But compare that to, say, last weeks Helsinki Triathlon Cup sprint, where somebody actually hit me during the swim after I had accidentally touched his toes.
Somehow I battled my way back to the finish area and crossed the goal line in a, somewhat disappointing, time of 7.46,34. However, as I stood in the goal area, champing strawberries, I comforted myself with having accomplished the most important goals for the day.
One was surviving the swim and proving to myself I can manage cold water. A second was to complete the 30K run, as a preparation for the Ironman Copenhagen in August. It hurt, but it was a good workout ahead of Copenhagen. Hopefully, the weather will be more pleasant in Denmark.
If you are not perfectly familiar with the terminology of triathlon, the international long distance is a bit shorter than the famous ironman distance – however, the swim is a bit longer, 4K instead of 3,8K.
In the days leading up to the race, I was actually kind of hoping the water would not get any warmer, thus forcing the organizers to shorten the swim. Fat chance.
Somehow, race organizers always seem to be able to find the right spot in the water to measure the temperature. A couple of days before the race, the water temperature amazingly rose from 15 degrees to 16 degrees to 17 degrees.
My anxiety wasn't relieved by the fact my travelling companion, Kim Harju is a swim freak who thrives in exceptionally cold water. For me, comfortable temperature for a wet suit swim is around 20 degrees.
I got so desperate I got me one of those really gay and unaesthetic neoprene hoods, which you are allowed to wear under your swim cap. It really helps keeping your body temperature high, because, contrary to popular belief, you lose most heat via your head, not for example your fingers and toes.
On the race morning, the water temperature was 16,5 degrees while the air temperature was 15 degrees. Thus, the real water temperature was 16 degrees – precisely at the limit.
The start happened in the water, but I waited until the very last minute to jump into the lake. Besides, the organisers warned that there is a lot of glass on the bottom of the lake, so I wasn't about to be standing around in the water anyway.
It felt cold. Awfully cold. Fingers and toes disappeared after a couple of minutes. Good thing was, it was easy to navigate, because you could use landmarks, like a bridge and buildings on the shore, for navigation. Bad thing was, after one 2000 m lap I could not straighten my fingers any more – I was just dragging my limp hands through the water.
After a swim that felt like it would never end, I came out of the water and entered the transition area, mostly lucky to have made it without suffering hypothermia symptoms (done that, too). This time, the transition went quite fast, because I had, for the first time during my fifteen years of doing triathlons, tried to apply vaseline to my ankles. Thus, the wet suit came off quite nicely.
I went out as hard as I could on the bike and I was really flying, but soon I had to settle into a more gentle pace. Even though the course was quite flat, it was somewhat windy, and there were some rather technical corners which slowed me down.
Most of the traffic was redirected, but there were a few segments where there was plenty of traffic and it could have gotten really ugly. There were a couple of roundabouts, where you had to cross your way around the slower cars. Needless to say, the drivers didn't seem to care about the race happening all around them.
It was noteworthy to see how little drafting there was, compared to most races in Finland and, also, most Ironman races around Europe. The draft zone was exceptionally 12 meters, and I didn't think I saw anyone breaking that rule. Of course, there were only around 250 athletes on the road, and it was a 4 times 30 km bike course. But I think it is a matter of respect – as soon as you overtook someone, they fell back and didn't hang on to your draft zone.
Except for the wind, the weather was really good for racing. I soon got warm and was able to raise my cadence and speed during the second and third lap. Of course, a thunder storm was rising and soon cold rain was pouring down. The temperature dropped to around 10 degrees, and I praised myself for having to foresight to don long sleeves.
The rain was intense, but short. As the bike leg was nearing the end, the wet asphalt was steaming in the sun. My heart rate was approaching 150 beats per minute, up from around 135 at the beginning of the bike leg. I finished the bike leg with an average speed of 35 kph, which was perhaps a little bit less than expected.
Returning to the transition are, I found my running shoes and gear soaking wet. As I set out for the run, I heard a splashing sound from the water in my K-Swiss shoes.
As expected, I felt stiff and uncomfortable. But as the rule of thumb goes, it is normal to feel awful during the first 1-2 kilometers, but after that, as your neurological system, your blood flow and your muscles adapt to running, it gets easier.
The false high usually hits you after 5 kilometers, when you start hitting your stride and do not feel any fatigue yet. That is when you manage to pace yourself – otherwise it will come back to haunt you later on in the race.
I didn't. And it came back to haunt me.
Problem is, at the moment I am a much faster cyclist than runner. Consequently, I overtook dozens of competitors during the bike leg, only to turn into a slalom pin at the beginning of the run. And, although you know you should race your own race, it is hard to fight your instincts to put up a fight when someone overtakes you.
First 15K went well, but then the backlash hit me. The only really positive thing at that stage was that the run course turned out to be a 3 times 10K affair. Somehow I had gotten the perception it would be a psychologically challenging 4 times 7,5K.
And then another thunder storm hit us, like the wrath of the viking gods. Suddenly, it was freezing cold again and my shoes and socks were all covered in mud as the run course swirled through a park and a forest area near the shore of Vättern.
If the last 5K of the second lap was a battle, the last 10K lap was mayhem. I was at the stage where people seem to be walking by you and every single step hurts a bit. And then, you may have guessed it, yet another thunder storm hit us. And this was bad. The wind was whipping rain into our faces as we ran along the shore towards the finish line.
But it is always fun to race in Sweden. The atmosphere is really good, spectators and competitors are supportive. Of course, you may feel a sting of hurt pride when someone overtakes you and quips "good job, keep going". But compare that to, say, last weeks Helsinki Triathlon Cup sprint, where somebody actually hit me during the swim after I had accidentally touched his toes.
Somehow I battled my way back to the finish area and crossed the goal line in a, somewhat disappointing, time of 7.46,34. However, as I stood in the goal area, champing strawberries, I comforted myself with having accomplished the most important goals for the day.
One was surviving the swim and proving to myself I can manage cold water. A second was to complete the 30K run, as a preparation for the Ironman Copenhagen in August. It hurt, but it was a good workout ahead of Copenhagen. Hopefully, the weather will be more pleasant in Denmark.
Return to action
Watching the two meters high waves crushing into the shore, I realized my first race in 1,5 years could be a difficult one. The bike course had been changed as well – instead of the familiar, flat route along the coast, the bike course consisted of one 90 km lap in a beautiful, but hilly natural park near Calella.
The season before had been spoiled by a stress fracture in my heel bone, and my winter training had been punctuated by difficulties and small setbacks. I was especially unsure of my running, not even having been able to run a single road race.
Of course, I chose to make my comeback in a half ironman race. Accept no less. I chose a familiar race, the Barcelona Half-Challenge in Calella, a bit north of Barcelona. There were more participants than ever before, since it was simultaneously the European Championship race. Consequently, the organizers had a really hard time keeping their time schedules – I had to stand in queue more than one hour in order to get my race kit.
Come race morning, the wind had calmed down, but the waves were still killer size. As is the practice in the Challenge Family events, the start happened in start waves of approximately 300 participants. As the start signal was fired, I run into the water – only to be thrown backwards a couple of meters by the first wave. It was a battle to get to the first buoy, but then, further out to the sea, swimming parallel to the shore, it was a bit easier.
Another surprise for me was how cold the water was. I was struck by the familiar ice cream headache immediately when I started swimming, and by the time I got within sighting distance of the transition area my fingers and toes were all numb. I would guess around +15 degrees – I never realized the Mediterranean could be that cold.
I finished the 1,9K swim in 37,21, which is horribly slow even for me. In order to further complicate issues, my fingers were so numb and weak it took me minutes to get my wet suit pulled over my ankles.
Shivering, I went out as hard as I could on the bike in order to get warm. I overtook dozens of competitors, which is not unusual.
The climbing started early, and there were three hard climbs. One of them reached 700 meters, the two other climbs were merely 500 meters. I had no option but to be humble and rely on the small chain ring.
Moreover, the descents were really nasty. Not dangerous or fast, just technical and slow. They weren't the usual type of serpentines you will find in the mountains, where you can accelerate, brake, and accelerate again. Rather, the road was circling it's way down, never allowing you to get your speed up. Also, because of the long, slow descents, I was never really able to get warm.
I didn't fancy the bike course very much. Maybe someone found satisfaction in the beautiful forests and the silent roads, but for me, I felt this particular type of terrain doesn't suit me. I wasn't able to get into a good rhytm, which is also proven by my heart rate – i finished the bike leg with an average heart rate of 133.
My bike split time was a ridiculous 2.53,01, which is not at all comparable to the 2.22 bike split I had back in 2011 on the old bike course in Calella. On the positive side of things, I had saved a lot of energy for the 21K run.
I felt fresh at the start of the run leg, and felt comfortable with a pace around 4.55 min/km. The first 10K lap went smoothly, but somehow I knew the shortcomings in my run training would catch up with me. During the last 10K, i managed to keep the pace, but I got a lot of pains and cramping in my legs.
I finished in a very mediocre time of 5.26,10, which would be the slowest half ironman I have ever done. But times are not comparable, since the circumstances were very different to any race I have done before.
All in all, it was a decent return to competition and a good drill for things to come. More than anything, a good workout.
The season before had been spoiled by a stress fracture in my heel bone, and my winter training had been punctuated by difficulties and small setbacks. I was especially unsure of my running, not even having been able to run a single road race.
Of course, I chose to make my comeback in a half ironman race. Accept no less. I chose a familiar race, the Barcelona Half-Challenge in Calella, a bit north of Barcelona. There were more participants than ever before, since it was simultaneously the European Championship race. Consequently, the organizers had a really hard time keeping their time schedules – I had to stand in queue more than one hour in order to get my race kit.
Come race morning, the wind had calmed down, but the waves were still killer size. As is the practice in the Challenge Family events, the start happened in start waves of approximately 300 participants. As the start signal was fired, I run into the water – only to be thrown backwards a couple of meters by the first wave. It was a battle to get to the first buoy, but then, further out to the sea, swimming parallel to the shore, it was a bit easier.
Another surprise for me was how cold the water was. I was struck by the familiar ice cream headache immediately when I started swimming, and by the time I got within sighting distance of the transition area my fingers and toes were all numb. I would guess around +15 degrees – I never realized the Mediterranean could be that cold.
I finished the 1,9K swim in 37,21, which is horribly slow even for me. In order to further complicate issues, my fingers were so numb and weak it took me minutes to get my wet suit pulled over my ankles.
Shivering, I went out as hard as I could on the bike in order to get warm. I overtook dozens of competitors, which is not unusual.
The climbing started early, and there were three hard climbs. One of them reached 700 meters, the two other climbs were merely 500 meters. I had no option but to be humble and rely on the small chain ring.
Moreover, the descents were really nasty. Not dangerous or fast, just technical and slow. They weren't the usual type of serpentines you will find in the mountains, where you can accelerate, brake, and accelerate again. Rather, the road was circling it's way down, never allowing you to get your speed up. Also, because of the long, slow descents, I was never really able to get warm.
I didn't fancy the bike course very much. Maybe someone found satisfaction in the beautiful forests and the silent roads, but for me, I felt this particular type of terrain doesn't suit me. I wasn't able to get into a good rhytm, which is also proven by my heart rate – i finished the bike leg with an average heart rate of 133.
My bike split time was a ridiculous 2.53,01, which is not at all comparable to the 2.22 bike split I had back in 2011 on the old bike course in Calella. On the positive side of things, I had saved a lot of energy for the 21K run.
I felt fresh at the start of the run leg, and felt comfortable with a pace around 4.55 min/km. The first 10K lap went smoothly, but somehow I knew the shortcomings in my run training would catch up with me. During the last 10K, i managed to keep the pace, but I got a lot of pains and cramping in my legs.
I finished in a very mediocre time of 5.26,10, which would be the slowest half ironman I have ever done. But times are not comparable, since the circumstances were very different to any race I have done before.
All in all, it was a decent return to competition and a good drill for things to come. More than anything, a good workout.
måndag 22 augusti 2011
Too short long distance
The European championships in Tampere went down so much better than I anticipated, so I'm not really in the mood to complain. But it's a little bit unfair, the shortened bike course.
The ETU/ITU so called long distance is to begin with a distance that favours strong swimmers and runners on the expense of better cyclists. The swim is longer than an ironman swim leg, 4000 m instead of the usual 3800m, the bike is a lot shorter than the ironman bike leg, 120K instead of 180K, and the run is 30K instead of a marathon, 42,2K.
And due to safety reasons, the bike leg was shortened even further in Tampere. It was a measly 114,6K – too short for me to gain enough time on those of my rivals who are better swimmers and runners, but weaker cyclists than me. Uhm, now that I think of it: all my rivals are probably better swimmers and runners.
Still, after doing two ironmans this summer, the last one not more than two weeks ago, the long distance felt incredibly, relievingly short. So...humane, compared to the ironman distance.
As I mentioned, my expectations were not top shelf before the race. I felt very fatigued after competing the Kalmar Järnmannen on 6th August, I have suffered from nagging minor pains, and, on top of it all, I had a minor flu during the week leading up to the race. I was still weighing my options, changing my mind twice a minute, on the day before the race, because I still suffered from a sore throat and dizziness.
As well, the start list was, to be fair, a bit of a disappointment. Little more than 200 competitors, all categories counted, and representing not much more than a handful of countries. I think most of the competitors were Finns, just like in Säter in Sweden back in 2005, when most of the competitors were Swedes.
Not improving things, my room mate Esa Ollikainen was also suffering from a minor cold. And he had trouble sleeping the night before the race. And, let's say as politely as possible, it didn't go unnoticed.
But rarely does one get to sleep 11h before a big race, and one night of shortened sleep does not affect your physical performance. On the opposite, you may feel more adrenalized and on the edge.
Besides, if I felt drowsy the absolutely shockingly cold water in Pyhäjärvi was bound to wake me up. I felt like dipping my head in ice cream when I took a few warmup strokes. I was not alone. The look on the Spaniards face when told by the officials to take off his neoprene socks, because they're against the rules.
Strange though, the water didn't feel cold at all once I got underway. The lake swim was really easy, after racing in Barcelona, Nice and Kalmar earlier this year – all with more or less rough sea swims. The buoys were easy to spot, and there was none of the crowding, elbowing and kicking seen in bigger races. There were no difficult currents either, except for the last couple of hundred meters heading up the canal towards the Ratina stadium. Ugh, the canal was dirty and smelly. Tried not to swallow any water.
Swim split a little over 1.13. That's ok for me.
The transition took some five or six minutes, because, due to some strange ETU rules, we were not allowed to wear compression socks or any other garments under the wet suit in addition to the national race suit during the swim. I'm all too used to wearing compression socks, but they are quite difficult to pull over wet calves. I felt like wearing extra sleeves and leg warmers for the bike leg as well, which I did not regret once.
I though the bike leg would feel monotone and somewhat boring, going six laps á 19.1K. But it was actually quite fun, totally different than the races in Nice and Kalmar. Nice: all climbs and descents. Kalmar: all long flats. Tampere: criterium race in the city with lots of technical turns, then a few kilometers along a highway, then some more criterium along the streets of Tampere. The turns made the bike a bit slower, but I still managed to keep an average pace of 36.8kph. Not counting the transition, my bike split was 3.07 something. That's perfectly ok for me on this distance. I suspect I had one of the three or five best bike splits in my category, not counting the transition, but it is very difficult to say, because the organizers didn't record the transition times for T1.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I forgot to prepare any energy bars or gels for the bike leg. I usually attach energy bars to the bike, from where they are easy to grab, but this time I just forgot them in my bag. Had to rely on the energy gels and bananas which the organizers provided.
Saw a familiar face coming into transition: Henrika Malmström, competing in the female elite category. At that point, I knew the bike had to be short. Normally, I would have caught her on the bike (even though the female elite started 8 mins before the male age groups), and then, depending on the time margin, she would have caught me again on the run, or I would have stayed ahead.
I felt strong, going out for the run. I kept an easy pace of 5.15 min/km. I learned a bitter lesson in Kalmar, where I started out with a 5 min /km, which was probably too much for me on an ironman distance right now.
The run was nice, I think. It was a 7K, four lap course, back and forth along mostly gravel roads. Lots of familiar faces along the route, and plenty of spectators spurring you forward.
There was this guy, Hannu Hult, competing in the 30-34 age group, whom I overtook right before the end of the bike, but who, in turn, overtook me right at the start of the run and got away from me. Then I caught up with him when he stopped in order to water the flowers. Then he got away again. Then, after two and a half lap (the laps were about 7K, 3.5K back and forth) he got into trouble and I caught up with him again. Then, right at the end of the third lap, he caught up with me again and, once again, got away. This time, I could change into a higher gear, overtook him again one fourth into the last lap, and didn't look back. Whoa. I usually overtake a lot of guys on the bike, but usually I only focus on maintaining my lead on the run – rarely do I get to beat anyone running. It is small battles like this that makes the end phase of a triathlon exciting. My time on the run leg was 2.37 something, not so bad considering the little run training I've done this year.
I finished 13th in my category, quite ok. The results can be found here:http://www.team226.net/etusivu/tuloksia Didn't beat Esa Ollikainen this time either. Got closer and closer during the bike leg, but he ran so much faster than me it wouldn't have mattered if I had caught up with him. I might have placed higher with a longer bike leg, but I feel satisfied. Also, this race should encourage me to put more work into improving my swimming and running, not just focus on cycling. In triathlon, you need to be good at all disciplines. On the other hand, I'm more than little interested in the new Tristar series events, with distances like 1K+100K+10K and, especially, 2K+200K+20K.
It's great to finish the season with a succesful race. Leaves a good last impression and gives plenty of motivation to put in the work during the off season. Yes mum, I will work on my swimming and running.
The ETU/ITU so called long distance is to begin with a distance that favours strong swimmers and runners on the expense of better cyclists. The swim is longer than an ironman swim leg, 4000 m instead of the usual 3800m, the bike is a lot shorter than the ironman bike leg, 120K instead of 180K, and the run is 30K instead of a marathon, 42,2K.
And due to safety reasons, the bike leg was shortened even further in Tampere. It was a measly 114,6K – too short for me to gain enough time on those of my rivals who are better swimmers and runners, but weaker cyclists than me. Uhm, now that I think of it: all my rivals are probably better swimmers and runners.
Still, after doing two ironmans this summer, the last one not more than two weeks ago, the long distance felt incredibly, relievingly short. So...humane, compared to the ironman distance.
As I mentioned, my expectations were not top shelf before the race. I felt very fatigued after competing the Kalmar Järnmannen on 6th August, I have suffered from nagging minor pains, and, on top of it all, I had a minor flu during the week leading up to the race. I was still weighing my options, changing my mind twice a minute, on the day before the race, because I still suffered from a sore throat and dizziness.
As well, the start list was, to be fair, a bit of a disappointment. Little more than 200 competitors, all categories counted, and representing not much more than a handful of countries. I think most of the competitors were Finns, just like in Säter in Sweden back in 2005, when most of the competitors were Swedes.
Not improving things, my room mate Esa Ollikainen was also suffering from a minor cold. And he had trouble sleeping the night before the race. And, let's say as politely as possible, it didn't go unnoticed.
But rarely does one get to sleep 11h before a big race, and one night of shortened sleep does not affect your physical performance. On the opposite, you may feel more adrenalized and on the edge.
Besides, if I felt drowsy the absolutely shockingly cold water in Pyhäjärvi was bound to wake me up. I felt like dipping my head in ice cream when I took a few warmup strokes. I was not alone. The look on the Spaniards face when told by the officials to take off his neoprene socks, because they're against the rules.
Strange though, the water didn't feel cold at all once I got underway. The lake swim was really easy, after racing in Barcelona, Nice and Kalmar earlier this year – all with more or less rough sea swims. The buoys were easy to spot, and there was none of the crowding, elbowing and kicking seen in bigger races. There were no difficult currents either, except for the last couple of hundred meters heading up the canal towards the Ratina stadium. Ugh, the canal was dirty and smelly. Tried not to swallow any water.
Swim split a little over 1.13. That's ok for me.
The transition took some five or six minutes, because, due to some strange ETU rules, we were not allowed to wear compression socks or any other garments under the wet suit in addition to the national race suit during the swim. I'm all too used to wearing compression socks, but they are quite difficult to pull over wet calves. I felt like wearing extra sleeves and leg warmers for the bike leg as well, which I did not regret once.
I though the bike leg would feel monotone and somewhat boring, going six laps á 19.1K. But it was actually quite fun, totally different than the races in Nice and Kalmar. Nice: all climbs and descents. Kalmar: all long flats. Tampere: criterium race in the city with lots of technical turns, then a few kilometers along a highway, then some more criterium along the streets of Tampere. The turns made the bike a bit slower, but I still managed to keep an average pace of 36.8kph. Not counting the transition, my bike split was 3.07 something. That's perfectly ok for me on this distance. I suspect I had one of the three or five best bike splits in my category, not counting the transition, but it is very difficult to say, because the organizers didn't record the transition times for T1.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I forgot to prepare any energy bars or gels for the bike leg. I usually attach energy bars to the bike, from where they are easy to grab, but this time I just forgot them in my bag. Had to rely on the energy gels and bananas which the organizers provided.
Saw a familiar face coming into transition: Henrika Malmström, competing in the female elite category. At that point, I knew the bike had to be short. Normally, I would have caught her on the bike (even though the female elite started 8 mins before the male age groups), and then, depending on the time margin, she would have caught me again on the run, or I would have stayed ahead.
I felt strong, going out for the run. I kept an easy pace of 5.15 min/km. I learned a bitter lesson in Kalmar, where I started out with a 5 min /km, which was probably too much for me on an ironman distance right now.
The run was nice, I think. It was a 7K, four lap course, back and forth along mostly gravel roads. Lots of familiar faces along the route, and plenty of spectators spurring you forward.
There was this guy, Hannu Hult, competing in the 30-34 age group, whom I overtook right before the end of the bike, but who, in turn, overtook me right at the start of the run and got away from me. Then I caught up with him when he stopped in order to water the flowers. Then he got away again. Then, after two and a half lap (the laps were about 7K, 3.5K back and forth) he got into trouble and I caught up with him again. Then, right at the end of the third lap, he caught up with me again and, once again, got away. This time, I could change into a higher gear, overtook him again one fourth into the last lap, and didn't look back. Whoa. I usually overtake a lot of guys on the bike, but usually I only focus on maintaining my lead on the run – rarely do I get to beat anyone running. It is small battles like this that makes the end phase of a triathlon exciting. My time on the run leg was 2.37 something, not so bad considering the little run training I've done this year.
I finished 13th in my category, quite ok. The results can be found here:http://www.team226.net/etusivu/tuloksia Didn't beat Esa Ollikainen this time either. Got closer and closer during the bike leg, but he ran so much faster than me it wouldn't have mattered if I had caught up with him. I might have placed higher with a longer bike leg, but I feel satisfied. Also, this race should encourage me to put more work into improving my swimming and running, not just focus on cycling. In triathlon, you need to be good at all disciplines. On the other hand, I'm more than little interested in the new Tristar series events, with distances like 1K+100K+10K and, especially, 2K+200K+20K.
It's great to finish the season with a succesful race. Leaves a good last impression and gives plenty of motivation to put in the work during the off season. Yes mum, I will work on my swimming and running.
tisdag 9 augusti 2011
Underperforming
Sheesh, look at that guy – how can one run that slow? But why am I not getting any closer?
That's the classic situation during the final miles of an ironman run leg, when you get tired and run out of gas. And it describes precisely how I felt last saturday, during the last 14K of the Kalmar Järnmannen. Luckily, most of those guys (and girls, I admit, boohooohoo, I admit!) were one or two 14K laps behind me.
Still, I was disappointed with the result. I had moderate expectations for the race, knowing that I have not had a lot of quality running this year. Still, knowing Kalmar is a flat and potentially fast course, I realistically expected to finish within 10.10-10.20.
I had some problems leading up to the race: I hurt my hip during one of those final-I'm just doing this last workout–could as well be resting-just a little reassurance before the race–brick workouts. It really hurt my preparations, because I wasn't able to do much anything at all during the last four five days, and felt unsure about even being able to run come Saturday. As it turned out, it was probably just a minor overuse of some muscle.
I didn't get a flying start to the race, swimming like I had a rusty anchor tied to my wrists. The water was only 18 degrees, which may not bother some people, but is a factor in play when you have a 5 body fat percentage. A single 1.9K swim would be ok, but my toes and fingers went numb and my legs started cramping during the second 1.9K lap. I don't think the swim in Kalmar is very fast anyway, with lots of seaweed and spots with disturbingly shallow water. The waves wasn't an issue for me, even if I heard some complain about it.
The bike start was horrible and it took me at least 30 minutes going straight into the brisk headwind to find my legs. Luckily, it was a warm and sunny day, even if the wind speed was close to 10 meters per second. First 30K – 52.29. Bollocks. Second 30K – 48.00. Better. I decided not force the issue, but maintained this pace for the second 60K lap, overtaking, well, a whole bunch of mo'fuckers. During the last lap I dropped a couple of minutes but still managed to finish the bike leg in decent 5.04. I could easily have gone 4.55, even on a bad day like this, but I didn't want to repeat the mistake I made in Nice.
It was great to see how the competitors showed respect for each others and for the rules. I saw practically no drafting at all. The referees, there were plenty of them, seemed sharp, but I think the biggest difference compared to other races was the attitude among competitors. Nobody accelerated when you tried to overtake someone, and they always eased off and dropped back when you overtook them. Just as the rule book says. I wish all the cheating fakes competing in the largest triathlon event in Joroinen, as well as the organizers enforcing the rules, could see how things can be done differently and fairly.
That said, the referees were being very harsh when they hit the ultimate race winner Pontus Lindberg with a 4 minute time penalty – because he had lost his race number. He had to serve the penalty before crossing the finish line, but had a large enough marginal to win anyway. I would say it's the organizers responsibility to supply the competitors with race numbers that are of good enough quality not to fall off.
The run started off good enough, I kept my strides short, my step frequency high and a pace of 5 min/km. During the second 14K lap, the lack of quality running was getting to me.
And the last lap was a battle. My right quad started cramping, and I tried to alter my stride to minimize the pain. Still, you don't quit an ironman with 10K to go unless you're really, really hurting. There was a strong sensation of deja vu, as I ran along the same course which I had seen so many times before.
There were positives: my stomach felt good and I was able to consume enough energy. I actually took mostly energy bars, one half at a time, during the run.
Part of the reason why I collapsed during the run leg was probably the lack of quality long runs this season, but I still feel like I underperformed. Anyway, I think I know what I need to do ahead of next season. Here are my results with split times: http://kalmar.r.mikatiming.de/2011/index.php?content=detail&fpid=list&id=0000170FF638F50000013EB8&lang=EN&event=KLM&ageclass=
This race was not one for the ages for my part, but it is always a positive when you finish an ironman in somewhat good shape. And the race in Kalmar is really well organized, the town is nice and people are friendly.
It was some ten years ago when I raced in Kalmar for the first time. Since then, the race has grown exponentially – from some 150 competitors to more than 800.
Still, it is striking how disorganized the transition area was. We checked in the bikes in the morning, contrary to most big races where you leave your bike in the guarded bike park over night.We had no transition bags – rather, we put all our gear, running shoes, towels, even change clothes next to our bike.This must surely change if the organizers go through with their plans to turn Kalmar into a WTC-licensed Ironman race next year.
That's the classic situation during the final miles of an ironman run leg, when you get tired and run out of gas. And it describes precisely how I felt last saturday, during the last 14K of the Kalmar Järnmannen. Luckily, most of those guys (and girls, I admit, boohooohoo, I admit!) were one or two 14K laps behind me.
Still, I was disappointed with the result. I had moderate expectations for the race, knowing that I have not had a lot of quality running this year. Still, knowing Kalmar is a flat and potentially fast course, I realistically expected to finish within 10.10-10.20.
I had some problems leading up to the race: I hurt my hip during one of those final-I'm just doing this last workout–could as well be resting-just a little reassurance before the race–brick workouts. It really hurt my preparations, because I wasn't able to do much anything at all during the last four five days, and felt unsure about even being able to run come Saturday. As it turned out, it was probably just a minor overuse of some muscle.
I didn't get a flying start to the race, swimming like I had a rusty anchor tied to my wrists. The water was only 18 degrees, which may not bother some people, but is a factor in play when you have a 5 body fat percentage. A single 1.9K swim would be ok, but my toes and fingers went numb and my legs started cramping during the second 1.9K lap. I don't think the swim in Kalmar is very fast anyway, with lots of seaweed and spots with disturbingly shallow water. The waves wasn't an issue for me, even if I heard some complain about it.
The bike start was horrible and it took me at least 30 minutes going straight into the brisk headwind to find my legs. Luckily, it was a warm and sunny day, even if the wind speed was close to 10 meters per second. First 30K – 52.29. Bollocks. Second 30K – 48.00. Better. I decided not force the issue, but maintained this pace for the second 60K lap, overtaking, well, a whole bunch of mo'fuckers. During the last lap I dropped a couple of minutes but still managed to finish the bike leg in decent 5.04. I could easily have gone 4.55, even on a bad day like this, but I didn't want to repeat the mistake I made in Nice.
It was great to see how the competitors showed respect for each others and for the rules. I saw practically no drafting at all. The referees, there were plenty of them, seemed sharp, but I think the biggest difference compared to other races was the attitude among competitors. Nobody accelerated when you tried to overtake someone, and they always eased off and dropped back when you overtook them. Just as the rule book says. I wish all the cheating fakes competing in the largest triathlon event in Joroinen, as well as the organizers enforcing the rules, could see how things can be done differently and fairly.
That said, the referees were being very harsh when they hit the ultimate race winner Pontus Lindberg with a 4 minute time penalty – because he had lost his race number. He had to serve the penalty before crossing the finish line, but had a large enough marginal to win anyway. I would say it's the organizers responsibility to supply the competitors with race numbers that are of good enough quality not to fall off.
The run started off good enough, I kept my strides short, my step frequency high and a pace of 5 min/km. During the second 14K lap, the lack of quality running was getting to me.
And the last lap was a battle. My right quad started cramping, and I tried to alter my stride to minimize the pain. Still, you don't quit an ironman with 10K to go unless you're really, really hurting. There was a strong sensation of deja vu, as I ran along the same course which I had seen so many times before.
There were positives: my stomach felt good and I was able to consume enough energy. I actually took mostly energy bars, one half at a time, during the run.
Part of the reason why I collapsed during the run leg was probably the lack of quality long runs this season, but I still feel like I underperformed. Anyway, I think I know what I need to do ahead of next season. Here are my results with split times: http://kalmar.r.mikatiming.de/2011/index.php?content=detail&fpid=list&id=0000170FF638F50000013EB8&lang=EN&event=KLM&ageclass=
This race was not one for the ages for my part, but it is always a positive when you finish an ironman in somewhat good shape. And the race in Kalmar is really well organized, the town is nice and people are friendly.
It was some ten years ago when I raced in Kalmar for the first time. Since then, the race has grown exponentially – from some 150 competitors to more than 800.
Still, it is striking how disorganized the transition area was. We checked in the bikes in the morning, contrary to most big races where you leave your bike in the guarded bike park over night.We had no transition bags – rather, we put all our gear, running shoes, towels, even change clothes next to our bike.This must surely change if the organizers go through with their plans to turn Kalmar into a WTC-licensed Ironman race next year.
lördag 16 juli 2011
A half ironman on water alone
That was the first time I have ever actually warmed up for any race longer than a sprint. But there was no parking space near the lake Valvatus when we arrived with club mate Ville Heistman about 45 minutes before the start of the half ironman finnish championships.
Got a little anxious there, jogging through the woods to the start. You know, there are things to do before jumping into the water. Like, pumping your tyres, getting marked with your race number and slipping into your wet suit.
Luckily, we got there in time and made it to the start. Perfect - almost.
There should have been an alarm sounding somewhere in my brain when someone asked whether I had done the Ironman France this year. Yeah sure, great race, I replied, wondering how he knew.
Two minutes before the start senior club mate Jari Aaltonen, the master of irony, taunted me: special kids wear special swim caps. Oops. In the haste, I had grabbed the wrong swim cap from my backsack, one which I got from Nice, and which had the totally wrong colour, wrong race number, and the Ironman France logo. Embarassing - nah.
Fast forward to the start. The swim felt easy - too easy. Suspect I'm just not pushing myself hard enough in the swim. I was faster a couple of years ago. Lazy? Don't know. More likely, after doing an ironman distance race just three weeks ago, I'm kind of stuck in the diesel, full distance mode. Note for the future: never eat pickled cucumber for breakfast before a race. Comes back to haunt you.
Bike: Felt super. Or kind of. The rain which was pouring down earlier in the morning had stopped, but I still felt chilly. I had decided to wear a longsleeved tri-suit and didn't regret it.
Heart rate unusually low, but I had decent speed. I maintained 40 kph for the first 30K lap, but slowed down to an average speed of some 38.5 kph. Again: stuck in the full distance gear. Mentally, after doing a mountainous 180K bike three weeks ago, 90K, mostly flat with some small thingies which weaker cyclists call "hills", felt very easy. But would have wanted to go faster. Couldn't. I noticed I had a 7s faster bike split than club mate and long time rival Esa Ollikainen. Great. He was two mins ahead of me after the swim, and he's a better runner.
Others wanted to go faster than they could, too: some club mates told me after the race that during the last lap I was pulling a large group of some ten or more cyclists. Drafting is illegal in a triathlon, of course, but race marshals can't see everything with more than 700 competitors racing.
My stomach felt a little nervous too, so I decided to go on water for the moment. I rather go on diesel that than eat and having to slow down if my stomach revolts.
I had an average heart rate of 151 during the bike. That's quite low for me, even for me. That's right, the full distance gear.
Transitioning to run, I kept to drinking water. I felt strong, but not a hundred per cent sharp. But compared to, for example, the Ironman France three weeks ago, or the Half-Challenge Barcelona in May, I held my position much better during the run. Oh, and the run was 5 mins faster than in Barcelona.
I think it is possible for me to pull off a half ironman without any extra energy, going on water alone, still with decent speed, because I have been doing a lot of moderately paced aerobic training on water alone. I feel this improves the most important ability of all in ironman racing: the ability to go fast for a long time, using mostly fat for energy, without going over the limit where your body starts burning a lot of carbon hydrates and producing lactic acid. In the later case, you don't go fast for very long. I don't recommend anyone to try this water thing in a race before doing some practicing, though.
The results for my category M35 can be found here: http://www.championchip.fi/tulospalvelu/01e1c502-b8b4-4dbe-b8d2-2fe7d1b48536/Miehet+35 Oh, it was the first time I was racing in a "masters" category. Feel old. But I beat quite a lot of 20+ year olds today, didn't I?
All in all, I have to be satisfied with the result, because it was only three weeks after an IM (might have mentioned that before in this blog post) and I approached it much like a training session.This week was much like a normal training week, albeit less running:
mon 1.05h/3.75K swim
tue 4hbike+1h run
wed 1.5K swim, inc. 750m fast + 10K bike TT/14.42.
thu bike 4h/144K, inc. 2h/36.5kph
fri rest day.
sat race day.
sun 8h bike! No, that was a joke.
Half ironman distance races are fun in the way they make you feel more good afterwards, whereas you mostly feel bad, your body aches everywhere and you'll lose your sleep for three days or so after a full ironman. After today, I feel really motivated to take on the Järnmannen Kalmar in three weeks from now. After that: the long distance European championships in Tampere. And then: think I'll take a month-long break.
PS. I wish to thank Antti Hagqvist and the volunteers making the Finntriathlon happen. Another great race, and it keeps getting bigger every year. I certainly hope the triathlon boom we are experiencing right now is sustainable. Also, thanks to all the people cheering along the course, as well as to all competitors.
Got a little anxious there, jogging through the woods to the start. You know, there are things to do before jumping into the water. Like, pumping your tyres, getting marked with your race number and slipping into your wet suit.
Luckily, we got there in time and made it to the start. Perfect - almost.
There should have been an alarm sounding somewhere in my brain when someone asked whether I had done the Ironman France this year. Yeah sure, great race, I replied, wondering how he knew.
Two minutes before the start senior club mate Jari Aaltonen, the master of irony, taunted me: special kids wear special swim caps. Oops. In the haste, I had grabbed the wrong swim cap from my backsack, one which I got from Nice, and which had the totally wrong colour, wrong race number, and the Ironman France logo. Embarassing - nah.
Fast forward to the start. The swim felt easy - too easy. Suspect I'm just not pushing myself hard enough in the swim. I was faster a couple of years ago. Lazy? Don't know. More likely, after doing an ironman distance race just three weeks ago, I'm kind of stuck in the diesel, full distance mode. Note for the future: never eat pickled cucumber for breakfast before a race. Comes back to haunt you.
Bike: Felt super. Or kind of. The rain which was pouring down earlier in the morning had stopped, but I still felt chilly. I had decided to wear a longsleeved tri-suit and didn't regret it.
Heart rate unusually low, but I had decent speed. I maintained 40 kph for the first 30K lap, but slowed down to an average speed of some 38.5 kph. Again: stuck in the full distance gear. Mentally, after doing a mountainous 180K bike three weeks ago, 90K, mostly flat with some small thingies which weaker cyclists call "hills", felt very easy. But would have wanted to go faster. Couldn't. I noticed I had a 7s faster bike split than club mate and long time rival Esa Ollikainen. Great. He was two mins ahead of me after the swim, and he's a better runner.
Others wanted to go faster than they could, too: some club mates told me after the race that during the last lap I was pulling a large group of some ten or more cyclists. Drafting is illegal in a triathlon, of course, but race marshals can't see everything with more than 700 competitors racing.
My stomach felt a little nervous too, so I decided to go on water for the moment. I rather go on diesel that than eat and having to slow down if my stomach revolts.
I had an average heart rate of 151 during the bike. That's quite low for me, even for me. That's right, the full distance gear.
Transitioning to run, I kept to drinking water. I felt strong, but not a hundred per cent sharp. But compared to, for example, the Ironman France three weeks ago, or the Half-Challenge Barcelona in May, I held my position much better during the run. Oh, and the run was 5 mins faster than in Barcelona.
I think it is possible for me to pull off a half ironman without any extra energy, going on water alone, still with decent speed, because I have been doing a lot of moderately paced aerobic training on water alone. I feel this improves the most important ability of all in ironman racing: the ability to go fast for a long time, using mostly fat for energy, without going over the limit where your body starts burning a lot of carbon hydrates and producing lactic acid. In the later case, you don't go fast for very long. I don't recommend anyone to try this water thing in a race before doing some practicing, though.
The results for my category M35 can be found here: http://www.championchip.fi/tulospalvelu/01e1c502-b8b4-4dbe-b8d2-2fe7d1b48536/Miehet+35 Oh, it was the first time I was racing in a "masters" category. Feel old. But I beat quite a lot of 20+ year olds today, didn't I?
All in all, I have to be satisfied with the result, because it was only three weeks after an IM (might have mentioned that before in this blog post) and I approached it much like a training session.This week was much like a normal training week, albeit less running:
mon 1.05h/3.75K swim
tue 4hbike+1h run
wed 1.5K swim, inc. 750m fast + 10K bike TT/14.42.
thu bike 4h/144K, inc. 2h/36.5kph
fri rest day.
sat race day.
sun 8h bike! No, that was a joke.
Half ironman distance races are fun in the way they make you feel more good afterwards, whereas you mostly feel bad, your body aches everywhere and you'll lose your sleep for three days or so after a full ironman. After today, I feel really motivated to take on the Järnmannen Kalmar in three weeks from now. After that: the long distance European championships in Tampere. And then: think I'll take a month-long break.
PS. I wish to thank Antti Hagqvist and the volunteers making the Finntriathlon happen. Another great race, and it keeps getting bigger every year. I certainly hope the triathlon boom we are experiencing right now is sustainable. Also, thanks to all the people cheering along the course, as well as to all competitors.
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