Redman 2009
By Andy Pele
I should always wait this long to write a race report so that it can condense into just the essentials. This race was my last hurrah for triathlon, the end of being competitive. I didn’t know it would be but given the results, it’s as good a time as any to call it quits. I had the support of my club, brother and wife, achieved a long held goal of finishing an ironman in under ten hours, finished 3rd overall, had my best swim ever, and had the pleasure of seeing my training partner, Rodney Adkison, destroy me and the rest of the field. It was an amazing day!
When I first signed up for this race I wanted to win it. And then Rodney signed up and I thought, “Wow, how bad do I want to win?” Not bad enough. I’ve watched him just get stronger on the bike and knew I couldn’t beat him on the run; not in the heat, and especially not if we had good weather. So I just settled in to enjoying the training with him and observing how we made each other stronger. When we toed the line, I knew where we stood, and that if we both had our best race he would come out ahead. And that’s exactly how it played out.
Rodney just wanted to have one iron distance race where he didn’t have to worry about horrible weather. And when the skies opened up Saturday morning, it seemed a bad omen. But I liked how it delayed the race and fueled the anticipation. It gave me a chance to mingle with the other participants before we all began our individual journeys. But I hated the idea that the race might become a swim-run-swim. How very different the results would have been if that had occurred. I must have looked like I was ready to throw down as I kept hopping up and down like a boxer before the bout. Truth was I was cold and trying to stay warm and loose. I think it helped since I had a breakthrough swim.
I’ve been telling people lately that I hate swimming. “It’s only good for two things—saving yourself from drowning if you fall off a boat and catching waves while bodysurfing. This back and forth stuff in a pool is ridiculous.” Eighteen days before the race I let my gym membership expire and started swimming in my wetsuit everyday at Lake Hulen. I practiced sighting a lot after watching how faster swimmers tended to veer off course when they sighted less frequently. I focused on my technique and increasing my stroke rate without going anaerobic. I worked up to swimming three miles continuously. And it all came together on race day. Throughout the swim, I assumed I was somewhere in the middle of the pack. The swimmer I kept seeing to my right as I turned to breathe was my only clue that I might be swimming well. He just looked like he had good technique, and he wasn’t leaving me in his wake. When I exited the water and heard, “You’re 3rd male out of the water,” I dismissed the information. They couldn’t be right. Turns out they were wrong, but not by much. I was 5th, with a time of just over an hour. That swim rank still shocks me. It was the most remarkable statistic of my race.
Seeing my bike amidst of sea of others sharing the rack was a pleasant surprise, since usually it’s pretty lonely by the time I exit the water. I surprised myself again by landing perfectly on my saddle when I jumped on at the mount line, a move I don’t think I’ve ever practiced. Many thought the road was rough and jarring. I thought it was far better than the St. Croix 70.3 course and just maneuvered frequently to miss the worst patches. For inline skating, water on a road seems to smooth the ride, and maybe I wasn’t just imagining that the same effect was occurring on my bike. I struggled to drop my heart rate during that first part of the ride. Even though I felt like I was riding easy, it hovered in the high 160’s for several miles. I planned to keep it around 140 for about ¾ of the ride. When Rodney passed me near mile 20 he asked me if I was ok seemingly oblivious to the fact that he can pass me even when I’m feeling super. I tried to keep him in sight until my heart rate climbed to the upper 140’s and I felt my hips and glutes tighten, then backed off and let him go. On the second loop, the course thinned out quite a bit. One rider ahead of me seemed to be going too hard, standing up to hammer the hills and I was sure that I could be patient and pass him later, which I did. I had hoped to decrease my fluid and calorie intake enough to stave off GI distress but was unsuccessful, so I started the run off with side stitches and some nausea.
Luckily I had planned to walk every 2 miles for one minute and that helped get my stomach settled. I didn’t wear a watch for the race but wanted to know how I was doing when I started the run so I asked people along the course for the time. When I learned that I was a little over 6 hours and 15 minutes into the race, I gained a boost of confidence. I also knew I was running in 5th place at the start, thanks to counting people at the turnarounds and a signal from Matt Widzer. I had hoped I could run 3:15 for the marathon and had set my Garmin accordingly, but I quickly fell behind so I switched over to “survive and run steady” mode. I stopped worrying about my original goal.
The aid station volunteers were awesome. When they didn’t have what you needed ready as you jogged through, they would chase after you with it, which made me feel really pampered and is a benefit you probably won’t find at a more crowded race. Running along the lake was beautiful too. I kept trying to focus on how pretty it was and what a gorgeous day it had turned out to be. When I learned Rodney had taken the lead, I just soaked it up proudly. Sometime during the run, last year’s winner, Chris Aarhus, broke down and started to walk allowing me to pass and move into 4th place. Then at the start of the last lap I tried to ask spectators how far ahead 3rd place was. Their answers didn’t leave me much hope but I did have a little extra energy so I ran the last few miles without taking another walk break and picked up my pace as much as I could. When I saw the finish line chute and the clock reading 9:50 I was ecstatic. I don’t think I’ve ever raised my hands in victory until this race. Rodney was there to give me a hug and then I went to find Nicole and my brother Danny, to give them hugs. Then to top it all off I discovered that somewhere along the way I had become the 3rd place finisher. Thank you to whomever it was in front of me who pulled the disappearing act.
Thank you to everyone out there on the sidelines and on the course who encouraged me along the way. I hope I was able to acknowledge each of you during the race. Though I’m withdrawing from competing too seriously in the future, I hope I’m there to cheer others on and help them along the way to their own aspirations, even the silly ones like swimming.