What Happens in Vegas...Ironman 70.3 World Championship race report

The move of the venue for the 70.3 World Championships to Henderson and the date to four weeks before Kona might elevate this race to true World Championship status. For sure there was more depth to the age group field than previous editions of this race with many near their peak of fitness from their Kona prep.

The course has the potential to be “epic” with all the required ingredients: hills, heat, wind and breathtaking vistas. We got lucky this year, it was only in the low 90’s and the wind didn’t show. Still a tough course in its own right but it could have been oh so much harder.

This race was the culmination of my down year season. I came into it feeling like I had peaked for the year at Vineman. My training since then had been inconsistent for a variety of reasons. My running still on the improvement curve since my foot surgery, but cycling fitness and swim technique on the downswing. I did not arrive at what I would consider a World Championship level of fitness. I was still excited to have a go at the new course.

Course summary: Single loop swim in 82 degree murky waters of Lake Las Vegas. Bike course was either up or down, nothing super steep but lots long rollers and false flats with a net elevation gain. The first 40 miles in Lake Mead Recreational area and visually stunning, very Kona-esque in its stark beauty and vast open space. The last 16 miles kind of dull as you wind through Henderson back from the park to T2. The run is 3 loops on one long hill which you are either running up or down, mentally best thought of as 3 x 2 mile hill repeats with the downhill as “recovery” (as much as one allows oneself to recover in a race!). Let me just say, the third time up really, really hurt!

Swim:

Bike:

Run:

It was an early race start and I was in the first amateur wave going off at 6:35. Waiting for the start I was oscillating between profound apathy and excitement. I’m not sure why apathy was worming its way into the mix. Was it because I knew I had passed my peak for the year and I lacked confidence in my fitness? Was it because I knew I would do poorly in a nonwetsuit, freshwater swim? Or was it nothing more than the 3 AM wake up call? I did know for sure that I would be super happy to get the swim done and get out of the water.

A moment of silence in remembrance of 9/11/2001, a stirring rendition of the National Anthem, then a blast of a cannon to send off the first pro wave. Women’s 45+ were not allowed in the water until the pro women were sent off giving us a whopping 3 minutes to get in and lined up – no time to really warm up. Then we were sent off. My group spread out quickly. In hindsight it was probably just me getting dropped quickly. The result was no body contact, but also no opportunity to draft. I swam basically solo the whole way. Any feet I found to draft were not swimming straight enough to warrant following.

I did not have high expectations for the swim. I’m not a strong swimmer and all of my past races I have either a wetsuit or salt water to help my body position. But I felt like I was swimming pretty well. The first inkling I had that perhaps I was not was that it felt like I was swimming forever. On the way out when I was certain I was at the turn buoy I would look up and see yet another buoy beyond…really? It easily felt as long as an ironman swim. I had no watch and saw no clock coming out of the water but the post race results tell the story…I felt like I was swimming forever because I was. The swim split does include a very lengthy run around the end of the lake to transition, but even allowing for that my swim was nothing short of pathetic.

Luckily I was blissfully unaware of just how badly my swim had gone but I did notice there were very few bikes left racked with my wave. Racing against so much talent, this was not a group of women that I would be able to hunt down on the bike. At that point I knew I was out of the mix, waaaay out of the mix and the competitive fire went out. I still intended to give it my best effort but it isn’t quite the same when you are so far out of the race.

T1 split looks long because T1 was long, including an interesting uphill switchbacky thing we had to push our bikes up, perhaps the most technical part of the entire course.

I tried to bike hard but kept losing focus. Occasionally something would spark me back to life - a friend or team mate passing me looking super strong, remembering I was part of something exciting in the inaugural running of this race on this course, the energy of the land – and I would bike strong for a while. I’d like to say I deliberately dialed back my effort to cope with the hills and heat but truthfully it was that laziness kept creeping its way back into my ride and I’d find myself looking for desert tortoises instead of focusing on riding hard. I could have ridden harder and been just fine. My bike leg was not horrible, actually fairly solid, but it was less than I am capable of.

T2 would have been fast but an unavoidable pitstop added an extra minute.

As much as my bike was uninspired, my run was driven. I gave the run course everything I had in me. I had a clear goal…to go under two hours on a tough course in the heat which would represent the best I think I’m capable of with the training I’ve done this year. The run out of transition was uphill on a dirt path and I stumbled up that feeling weak legged. Uh oh! But a nice downhill mile gave my legs a chance to find themselves and I was feeling good by the time I hit the bottom of the hill.

First hill repeat I focused on finding the fine line between flaming out and wussing out. I felt like I nailed it. Two miles of down hill made my heart and lungs happy but not my legs and feet. I tried to recover while still pushing the pace. Second hill repeat, tougher this time, flirting with flame out, glad there’s some shade on the uphill side. Second time down, feet and quads are screaming but still sort of recovering. Third and final hill repeat. OUCH!! I really only have the run endurance base for a strong 10 miler and the 10 mile mark is at the bottom of the hill. OUCH!! The wheels are threatening to come off. OUCH!! Fast feet, lift the knees with muscles screaming and lungs burning. OUCH!! Just. Make. It. To. The. Top. I did…just. If the hill had been 100 meters longer I’m not sure I would have. I did my best to hammer down the last downhill mile and crossed the line under my minimally acceptable goal of going under 6 hours (5:51).

Much like my last race I was disappointed with my swim, ok with my bike and thrilled with my run. If I could have found it in me to race the whole morning like I did the run I would have been happy no matter what the outcome. I felt like I was slacking a bit until I got onto the run course.

Every race teaches me something. The take home lesson from this one is that I really need a private swim tutor! All the years and yards I’ve spent in the pool have not taught me to swim.