Literally The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done In My Life

Oh. My. God.  It's more than a week later and I still can't get over how brutal it was.  It was so hard.  I just wanted it to end....  Writing about it now is bringing back all these awful, horrific memories of it.  Ugh.

I'm referring to the MightyMan Half Ironman that I completed last Sunday in Montauk, Long Island.  I was my first Half Ironman distance race, and it may well be my last.  I certainly am not in any rush to do another anytime soon.

Mike and I at the transition area the day before the race.

I admit that I was terribly undertrained for this race.  I wasn't looking to break any records or anything; all I wanted to do was to finish the race.  But I had no idea that even my modest goal would be so difficult to accomplish.

Three of us Front Runners did the tri: me, Mike Terry and Dave Pitches.  It was me and Mike's first Half Ironman; Dave has done a bunch of them.  Dave and Dan Elliot invited me and Mike to stay at their cottage in Montauk; I think that was the highlight of my weekend more than the race itself.  Dave and Dan fed us really well, drove us around to check out the course, and gave us some much appreciated tips about the course and conquering the distance.  

Dave drove us around to check out the course.

Pumping my tires before the race...hoping I won't have to do it again during the race!

We woke up at around 5:00 the morning of the race.  Mikey and I were in Wave 1, which started at 6:40.  Dave started around 6:55.  After a breakfast of Clif Bar, coffee and banana, the three of us biked to the start, about a mile away.  It was still dark out, and there was this ominous feeling of the calm before the storm, as there were several other bikers on the street all riding to the start.

It was cold at the start, in the 50s.  And the day was going to be a windy one.  A wetsuit was definitely necessary.  I also brought with me a pair of arm warmers for the bike ride.  We had to set up our transition area in the dark.  Looking around me while setting up, I started to get a little nervous.  The bike racks are set up by waves, so I was with everyone else in the under 35 men's group.  And pretty much all of them looked like they were serious triathletes.

At the transition area before the race.

A few minutes before 6:40, Mike and I went into the water.  The swim was in a freshwater lake in Montauk, Fort Pond.  When we stepped in, Mike and I were both pleasantly surprised to feel that the water was actually quite warm, in the mid to upper 60s.  Wearing a wetsuit, the water was actually very nice, much more comfortable than the cold, windy air. The start of the swim was in the water, but it was shallow enough that we could stand and not have to tread water.  

And then, with very little fanfare or warning, the starting horn sounded and everyone was off.  I got stuck in the middle of everyone and within the first 30 seconds, someone kicked me really, really, really hard in the knee.  I felt an explosive pain in my knee and let out a big "Oww, F-ck" while underwater.  I immediately thought the my race was over before it even really started.  But within a few seconds, the sharp pain went away and I was left with just a slightly sore knee.  I didn't really notice it anymore for the rest of the race.

The rest of the swim was pretty uneventful.  It was a 1.2 mile swim, in kind of a big triangle.  As the later waves of swimmer started every four minutes or so, I found myself getting passed by the faster ones  in each group.  But I was always able to see people in my wave around me, so it gave me some comfort to know that I wasn't the very last person.  

About 3/4 of a mile through, I looked up, and I realized I was swimming sideways.  One of the lifeguards saw me and asked if I was ok.  I said that I was, he pointed me in the right direction, and I proceeded ahead.  But just 10 seconds later, I looked up again and I realized that I had done it again.  For some reason, I kept turning myself 90 degrees to the right and swimming off course.  The fact that it happened twice in a row made me nervous, wondering if I was having delusions or something.  I had to stop swimming, tread water, take off my goggles, take a few deep breaths and try to reorient myself.  After a few seconds, I calmed down, found my place, and continued again--this time, in the right direction.

The swim took me about 48 minutes.  I was quite pleased.  There were still a number of people in my wave behind me.  And I felt great exiting the water.  I knew my hardest event was coming up, but I felt like I had a lot of energy in store.

The first transition took a little longer than I would have liked, mostly because it was a pain to put my arm warmers on my wet arms.  But I was soooo glad I had them.  The bike was freeeezing!  And it seemed like there was always a headwind or a crosswind to deal with.  The 56-mile ride took us around two loops of Montauk, with lots of little out-and-back offshoots that were kind of annoying.  It was pretty hilly, although I guess it could have been much worse (the website says it's 2200 feet of elevation gain).  A lot of the offshoots were down narrow streets where you had to bike around a cul-de-sac, which meant a lot of slowing down.  But the one thing I liked about the course was that there were lots of opportunities to see the other bikers.  I got to see both Mike and Dave several times during the race.

I don't remember a lot about the specifics of the bike.  All I really remember is just how miserable I was.  The sucky thing about this distance is that even when you're halfway through there still another 28 friggin miles  to go.  

I finished my first loop at 1:46.  I was a bit disappointed about that.  I knew that even if I was able to somehow maintain my speed for the second half, I wouldn't be able to break 3:30 on my bike.  (My only other time riding 56 miles in a race was last year when I did the Mooseman Triathlon as a relay with Dane and Ryan.  I did that bike in 3:28:30.  My training last year consisted of maybe four bike rides, none of which were longer than 30 miles.  This year, I've logged several 50, 60, and 70-mile bike rides, but somehow I've gotten even slower.  WTF?!?!)

On my second loop, I found myself getting out of the saddle a lot, since my legs were quickly being depleted of their strength.  But I think this ended up tiring my legs out even more since I was pushing harder.  My legs were so tired and one hill was so steep that my cyclocomputer said I was going just 6 miles per hour.  (Going back downhill, though, I clocked a 34 mph, which I think is the fastest I've ever gone...it was a little scary.)  As I came biking in towards the transition, I saw Mike on what must have been the middle of his second loop on the run.  Oh, and the 2nd place overall finisher was about to come in.  Kind of demoralizing when people are finishing and I didn't even start the run yet.  But I trudged on...

When I started the run, my time was around 4:33.  I was a bit relieved, since it meant I had almost two hours to reach the goal I had in the back of my mind of finishing in under 6:30.  Even if I ran the worst half of my life, I would be able to make it.  But as soon as I started running, I knew it was going to be tough.  My legs felt like I had cinder blocks attached to them.  The bike had just completely drained me and I had nothing left to give with my legs.  At first, I was passing people, but then it just became too much work.  I also realized that most of the people I was passing were probably on their second loop, so the fact that I was passing them wasn't really that much of victory.  So I settled into about a 9 minute pace, feeling that every step was like going into quicksand and I was moving in slow motion.

I did like two things about the run, though.  First, it was two loops, and each mile was marked, so it was easier to subdivide the course into manageable segments, and tell myself, say, that I was 2/3 of the way done with the first loop, etc.  Second, at the water stations they gave out defizzed Coca-Cola.  It was my first time ever trying it in a race, and I just loved it.  It was nice and sweet, didn't upset my stomach, and gave me a little caffeine boost afterwards.  It was good not having to drink the nasty Gatorade Endurance Formula that they always give out at marathons.

The run also included its share of brutal hills.  One of them was aptly named "Murder Hill."  It seemed like it was pretty much vertical.  About half the people I saw were walking up it.  I managed to stare straight ahead and continue running up the whole thing (twice!).  I was actually very pleased that I didn't have to walk at all on the run (even though my running was slooooow).

Around halfway through with the run, I realized that I wasn't going to get under 6:30.  Ugh.  But around mile 12, I realized that I might not even be able to finish my half in under 2 hours.  That would have been really upsetting, considering that my PR is about half an hour faster.  So I mustered all the energy I could to run that last mile as fast as I could.  I was passing people left and right.  I felt like a superstar, though in reality I think I must have been like an eight minute pace.  Still, I had a little tiny kick left to pass some guy about 100 meters from the finish and snag that finishing tape all to myself.  Final run time: 1:59:41.  Total race time: 6:33:28.  I was never so happy to be done with a race before in my life.

I pretty much collapsed as soon as I finished.  I've never been so physically spent in my life.  I barely had the energy to even realize that I just finished a Half Ironman.  But then it dawned on me, that I had just completed 70.3 miles of swimming, biking and running.  I had pushed myself so hard, in an event that was so demanding and difficult that most people probably can't fathom the distance.  And it really made me proud of my accomplishment.  Even though I didn't have the best time, or do as well as I would have liked, I still finished the most challenging athletic event of my life.  I was happy.

Thanks to Mike Terry (who finished in an amazing 5:02:18 in his very first Half IM) for letting me convince him to join me in this race.  Thanks also to Dave Pitches (6:42:34 and First in his age group!) and Dan Elliot for their great hospitality over the weekend.  And thanks to Coaches Rachel and Mike Totaro, without whom none of this multisport madness would ever have occurred.  As for me, I am very glad that the tri season is now over and I can take a break!