My relationship with Kemah began in last year's sprint race (my first ever open water race) in which I swam about 50m before taking a Big Gulp sized drink of brackish bay water and then proceeded to breast stroke for the remaining 450m. The bike was lackluster and my run pace averaged in the high 8's. Looking back, I am surprised that I continued to take part in this sport after that experience.
Needless to say, I was expecting the worst for this year's race. Jamie and I had signed up to break up the monotony of training for IMTX and to actually put some of our training into practice. If you have ever gone through the journey of Ironman training, you understand how important the little victories are. Kemah was going to be our little victory to keep us pushing toward the goal of finishing IMTX on May 18.
The days leading up to the race certainly had diminishing effects on my positivity for the weekend. We found out on Wednesday that the run from swim exit to transition was .56miles on pavement. We also learned that there was a 40% chance of rain on Sunday morning. Frustration ensuing, I kept telling myself to remain positive and to remember that the race was an extension of training, that I could toss a pair of "throw-away" shoes into the swim exit, that it was Texas and the weather is always changing...Packet pickup was crammed into a 12x12 room in the Holiday Inn, so we rushed through the line, grabbed our packets, bought a couple bonk breaker bars (pb&j is incredible) and got the hell out of there. In the spirit of last year's race, we ventured over to T Bone Tom's to wind down and have an early dinner, complete with a couple beers and fried pickles (for the sodium benefit of course). Then it was back to the hotel to put together all of the gear for race morning. Lights out around 930pm with a quick episode of Mythbusters (couldn't stay up for the usual SNL reruns).
330am I awake to the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning. Not good. 430am awake again, checking emails and receive the bike cancellation update. Aquathon, damn. On the bright side, it is much easier to carry all of your gear to transition without a bike, but for training purposes, we were leaving off an integral piece of work for the day. Didn't eat much for breakfast knowing that the extra calories would provide no added benefit, so a banana with some coffee and oatmeal was enough to fill the tank. We made the mile long trek to transition, sat out my shoes, running bib and a Hammer Gel with some Endurolytes, quick pee break and on the wetsuit went. After about 30mins in transition, we walked over to the boat launch and boarded the "Colonel" paddlewheel along with about 800 other brave souls who decided to stay around for the race. The taxi out of the harbor seemed to last forever and the body heat was rising with everyone standing around in their wetsuits, so I was somewhat concerned that dehydration would begin since there was no water to drink in the area. After an hour of sailing out and setting the anchors to the tide, the national anthem began as the pros filed down the galley. The gun went off and bodies were diving in every direction off of the side of the boat. Mass hysteria. Not five minutes after the gun, age-groupers were being called down and sectioned off to the side of the boat. A lady was screaming "Right, Left, Right, Left" and you basically had a one second window to plunge 3 feet into the water before someone jumped on your back.
I can remember the look on the guy's face in front of me, sheer terror, as he jumped in and immediately sunk into the brown water. Without hesitation, I held onto my goggles and jumped over him, and began swimming for my life. Forget comparing triathlon swims to a washing machine, this was a blender...I saw numerous people grabbing onto kayaks, screaming for help with their hands in the air. It would have been very easy and excusable to quit and I would find no fault in anyone doing so...the waves were 2-3' rollers, elevating you and dropping you seconds later, there was sea spray from the wind hitting my goggles and countless feet and arms to dodge on the way to the first buoy. Not to mention the water was frigid from the rain. But there is a rhythm you find with the water...anyone who is a swimmer knows this. Not to sound like some sort of hippie naturist, but you become one with the water, breathing when it allows you to take a breath, pulling through the crests and kicking through the troughs. You progress forward in a natural motion requiring very little energy and it is exhilarating. Before I knew it, my hand was dragging sand on my pulls and I was able to stand and run to the exit. 29min swim for a 1:57/100m pace. My personal best.
The run from swim exit to transition was .56 miles on paved roads. We made the decision not to leave a pair of shoes at the exit and just hump it to the transition area, which actually turned out to be a great strategy. I heard people had trouble finding their shoes and cost themselves valuable time by searching for them. I was making brilliant time running in my wetsuit, and got the to the transition area in 3:30. I stripped the right leg out of the suit, went for the left and couldn't get it around the damned timing chip. By the time I finally got out of my suit, threw on my shoes and slammed my Hammer gel and electrolytes, I had burned another 3 minutes. So much for making up time...7min T1.
I felt awesome coming out on the run. I had a good swim and was finally over the fact that T1 sucked. I took down water at the first stop and was pacing down to a 6:40 mile by the first mile marker. After mile 2, my right shoe started to loosen and the lace came undone...I had taken off the Yankz laces due to tendinitis in my feet and this was my payback. Quick stop to tie the lace and back to work. I made a point to drink only water through the next 3 miles and poured cold water over my head at each stop. At mile 5, I took in another Hammer gel to leg out the rest of the race. My pace was still in the 6:50-7/mile pace at this point. Around 5.5 miles in, I heard a familiar voice from behind me yelling "Man you're a hard guy to catch!" Jamie got me, again. He had put together a crazy run split to come from behind, averaging 6:30-6:40/mile but agreed to run out the rest of the race alongside me to the finish, both of us sort of understanding that this would not likely happen in the Ironman, so we better take advantage of it.
Total race time was 1:20...at the finish line, we ranked 8th and 9th place in age group. To date, we have been dropped to 13th/14th...I'm assuming some folks finished without a timing chip and turned in their times after the fact?
All-in-all this was a great race on many levels. For one thing, we were not fatigued after the race and had plenty of fuel left in the tanks. Secondly, training has vastly improved our swim and run times and thresholds. Lastly and most importantly, we were able to complete another race without any major issues and were smiling at the finish line.
I feel abundantly blessed at this point in my life. Obstacles, both personally and athletically, are not near the hurdle they used to be. I have learned the art of letting go and rolling with the tides. I have learned to adapt to change and to keep moving forward even when I cannot see the destination. I have learned that frustration, stress, fear and sadness can be turned into a fuel that can be burned into happiness and peace of mind. I am blessed to have both a wife who supports my hobby and a very dear friend who shares the same passion as I do. The encouragement from Emily and the accountability gained from Jamie have pushed me to become who I am today. A completely different person than I was 5 years, 5 months and even 5 weeks ago.
I look forward to racing Ironman with my friend and I look forward to seeing my family at the finish line. Thanks to the little victories, I sit here today excited, not nervous or scared. I am ready and willing to face the wind.
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