Well, the post-race stress has been slightly alleviated this week. I just got two new bikes from BH to replace the road bike I cracked at World Championships last year and the time trial bike that was stolen the day after Miami International three weeks ago. I’m finally calm enough to write a proper race report for the Miami International Triathlon, which is timely since I’m back in Miami now for another race.

The Miami International Triathlon was first race in the World Triathlon Corporation’s new 5150 race series. The series was oddly named 5150 because an Olympic distance triathlon is 5,150 decameters total (150 decameter swim, 4000 decameter bike, and 1000 decameter run) – why a more conventional unit was not used the world may never know. The important thing to know about the series is that the finale is Des Moines’ Hy-Vee Triathlon with a total prize purse of over 1 million dollars. This price tag at the finish line attracts much more talent to the qualifying races than a modest $25,000 prize purse normally would. Smart WTC, very smart.

Well, onto the race report, I’ve delayed enough.

The race started in Downtown Miami right at dawn. The swim started fast with Eric Limkemann immediately breaking away from the other strong swimmers (Cam Dye, Kyle Leto, Brian Fleishmann, and myself). Unfortunately, Eric made the mistake of following the lead kayak and went off course toward the end, allowing the rest of us to retake the lead. Out of the water was a long string of guys, but I didn’t turn around to see who was present. Matt Chrabot and one other guy ran by me about half way through the 5 decameter run to our bikes (for some reason we had to run the long way around this big fountain which added about two decameters to the first transition). I must have been the only one who wasn’t wearing a swim skin, however, because I passed everyone in front of me in T1 as they were undressing.

Eric mounted his bike right next to me, but as soon as I got my feet in the shoes I took off at my own pace. It was about 500 or 600 decameters into the bike ride that Cam Dye and Kyle Leto came by me. It was a relief, it’s much easier to pace with other people around, and I know from experience that Cam sets a pace that’s pretty much perfect for me. I took over the lead again whenever I was able (there’s a balance between mental toughness of setting the pace and the stress of having to be alert enough to keep switching sides of the road for the stagger rule). At the first turn around in Miami Beach (1000 decameters) I found myself with a rather large group including Bevan Docherty, Matt Chrabot, Cam, Kyle, and maybe one or two others. Kyle must have seen the same thing because he started pushing the pace really hard. By 20km in he was a solid 40 seconds up the road from us, and Cam and I had stretched out the pack to legitimate non-drafting spacing (USA Triathlon’s stagger rule basically allows for drafting when enough people are riding close together).

Kyle blew a fuse around the 2000 decameter mark (I later found out that his only bottle fell off on a pot-hole) and came back to Cam and I. Then at about 3700 decameters Chris Lieto caught up to Cam, Kyle and myself and took over the lead of the race. I let Cam and Chris fly into T2 together as I prepped my legs for the run. I had been cramping all morning and was a little worried about the run. Kyle and I cruised in together about 15 seconds back from Chris and Cameron. I threw on my K-Swiss and a visor then darted off after them. The only hitch in my T2 was my makeshift number belt. I had forgotten my nice stretchy Blue Seventy number belt, and had crafted one from the drawstring of a pair of running shorts and two paper clips. This worked like a charm while I was getting ready the night before, but was not so good in the heat of T2. I fumbled for a bit trying to clasp the paper clips together before I was able to put my nose forward and charge after the two C’s.

I was right about my legs on the run. They felt awful for the first mile or so, though they never really feel “great” after a hard ride. I stayed even spaced behind Chris and Cam until the first turn around at about 75 decameters. That’s where I saw Chrabot and Bevan charging like madmen and realized I didn’t have time to “get into” the run, I had to just go. I caught Cam and Chris 160 decameters into the run, and stayed with them for a while, changing leaders and using each other to draft. At the second turn around, a little under 300 decameters in there was a coning blunder and a course volunteer was yelling at us to be somewhere other than where we were. Chrabot was running the other way and we both repositioned to the same spot, then collided chest to chest at a combined velocity of about 4000 decameters per hour. It hurt, but we both went right back to running. Soon after that I took over the lead and held it from about 300 decameters until just past the 500 decameter mark. That’s when Chrabot came by me. I tried to match his cadence and my legs revolted with another cramp. Oh well, I was pretty sure I could push the pace a little harder and hang onto second.

At the last turnaround, with about 150 decameters to go I saw Bevan charging past Chris and Cam and closing in quickly. I thought I had enough to hold him off and I focused on running as fast as I could. Unfortunately, I hit a solid wall at 50 decameters to go and Bevan was in the perfect position to take advantage of it. I couldn’t match the pace he came by me with, so I looked behind me for the first time during the race, saw I had a decent amount of real estate and held my pace through the finish chute for a third place finish.

Cam was close behind me, with Chris even closer behind him. It was a tough race with a very strong field. A podium here is definitely something of which to be proud. I made a few mistakes, but I’ll be able to fix those easily (more salt, less jerry rigging). A thanks goes out to Miami for hosting a great race, and treating me like family. But not the people who stole my bike the next day. Jerks.

UPDATE: I added a graph for the race. It’s nice to have a visual of how things ended up in the top 10, and it’s much easier to read a non-drafting race graph than an ITU graph. Again, the Zero line is Matt Charbot, below the zero line represents a lead over Matt at that timing point, above the zero line represents a deficit to Matt.

This is a “fun” little highlight video to start off the 2011 triathlon season. Get pumped.

Puerto Vallarta is really hot in October. It’s strange that I was able to go the entire summer without suffering through any hot races, and as soon as Labor Day rolled around every race required a buzz cut and an ice pack in my helmet. I came prepared with my ice vest and frozen drink bottles as well, but no matter how well you prepare for a hot race, it always sucks – for everyone involved (spectators don’t like to stand on hot pavement any more than we like to run on it). That last fact is why hot races may actually suit me. It seems that conditions that require everyone to slow down a bit tend to bring some people back to me. It’s no question that I’ve failed to make a breakthrough in my run this season like I did at the end of 2009, but in hot weather my 5:15-5:20 min/mile pace is much closer to the fastest guys on the day. So as much as I hate hot races, there may be good reason not to avoid them.

After my crash in Huatulco I didn’t swim for the six days between races. I knew this was a bad idea, but I was hoping that I could depend entirely on talent to stay with Cameron Dye and Eder Mejia in the front pack. That was overly cocky. I was fine up until the first buoy, but managed to blow up like the Hindenburg on the second straightaway. People were moving past me like I was driftwood in a hydroplane race. There was a separation on the second lap of the swim, which I’m confident was my fault. As I moved backward, trying desperately to pull myself into someone’s draft I blocked the men behind me from keeping contact. I felt like a paper bag trying to swim – absolutely no connectivity through my core. (The lesson for next time, keep the abs in shape, even if you can’t get in the water, and eating quesadillas for three meals a day does not help with this). I ended up in the front of a large chase group about 20 seconds down on the top 6 men out of T1.

On the bike my legs were jell-o. The water had been in the upper 80s and the effort had my muscles fried. Conditions like this require top fitness, which I left on a section of blacktop in southern Mexico a week earlier. I hopped on Andrew Russell’s wheel and prayed that he could close the gap. (I’m certain I would have bridged up in any other race, though I wouldn’t have missed the front pack in any other race either.) I had nothing. I was overheated already and it was only 30 minutes into the race. I cracked my instant-cold ice pack in my helmet, and the rush of cold helped a little, but not enough for me to really help the group I was with. I went to the back of the pack (new territory for me) and tried to stay out of the way so the stronger cyclists could work together. We kept losing time each lap, and our group was one of the least organized I’ve seen in the men’s field. Guys were surging to the front and immediately pulling off, leaving the second wheel in the wind. Nobody wanted to work and each lap we were 15 seconds farther back than the lap before. The course was pretty sketchy in places (e.g they covered the gnarly cobbles with hard packed dirt that dried up and became loosely packed dirt before the end of the day). There were more 180s than needed, the section near transition was floored with red tiling which boasted a friction coefficient similar to Zipp’s ceramic bearings and required two hard right turns, a hard left and a 180 before returning to the blacktop highway where the center of the road had cracks large enough to harbor monsters (I’m pretty sure I heard something yell, “feed me your tire!”). Luckily, nobody went down, and I was able to finish my season with a 5/12 ratio of crashes to ITU starts (I just ordered a 2011 Scott CX Team from Momentum Multisport in Honolulu – hopefully a little cyclocross will help me keep the rubber-side down through my aggression (“This aggression will not stand, man.”)).

Staring the run I was way too hot. On the bike I had seen everyone else glistening with sweat and someone my skin looked dry. That’s not a good sign in the heat, but I figured if I was conscious enough to realize that then I probably should be running faster. I will say this for Mexico: they know how to provide water and ice. Unlike USATs terrible display of water support in Tuscaloosa (aide stations at the turnarounds so that you can only hit them once per lap? And they were equipped with warm water? Do they want us to die or was all the ice in Alabama being used for game-day cocktails?), the race directors in Puerto Vallarta had at least 6 times per lap where you could grab an ice cold beverage and a cup of ice. And the volunteers were trained well, they unscrewed the bottles so that a quick squeeze would pop the cap off – only once was the cap on my bottle so tight that I had to unscrew it myself. By the end of the first lap I was finally cool enough for my muscles to fire. I started passing some guys and was told I was in 14th place. I passed a couple more and was running with Mejia on my heals (at one aid station he wasn’t able to get a bottle, so I passed him mine after I took half to pour over my head – the next lap the situation was reversed, but he didn’t pass back. That’s bad Karma, dude.). At the end of the second lap I had reeled Sexton and Collington back into my sights and was sure I would catch them. Unfortunately, they must have seen the same thing and their paces increased enough to hold me at a steady distance. Mejia finally blew and I finished in 8th place in front of a group of charging Brazilians. It was a solid finish.

It’s easy to look at a race like this and think “if only A B and C I could have…” Well, that’s true, if I had had my normal swim I would have been in a break with Matt Chrabot and Cam Dye and with my normal bike we probably would have put another minute on the chase group and I likely would have been on the podium. But I didn’t and I wasn’t and 8th place is nothing to be ashamed of. I had a solid run – still not even close to what I believe I’m capable of – and I learned quite a bit about myself. How I respond to a week off at the end of the season is not great. How I swim in hot water after training in a cold indoor pool is not great either. How I prepare for hot races is pretty good, however. For next season I have plenty to work on. For now, however, I still have two races left, the Super Sprint Grand Prix in Oceanside on Halloween, and the Amica 19.7 Sprint in Phoenix on November 7th. Both should be a lot of fun.

Full race results here

After the Huatulco World Cup I planned to stay put for a couple days. Originally this was so I could train and recover from the heat before dehydrating myself on another airplane. Instead, I spent Monday and Tuesday whining about how badly my back hurt, changing bandages, and riding my rollers indoors. It did seem like I was recovering quickly, but I was definitely not getting in the water with such massive open wounds on my back, hip, arm and hands. Also, running hurt like crazy thanks to the contusion on my hip and the raw skin under my armpit.

Tuesday evening I flew to Puerto Vallarta where I would spend the next 8 nights. At that point, I really didn’t think I would be healed enough to race in a dirty harbor in Mexico before Sunday, but change fees and late cancellation for the hotel would have cost me almost as much as staying. Besides, Rory and Mojdeh were flying in from Colorado to spend the week with me, and I wasn’t about to miss out on my end-of-season vacation (post race) just because of a little pain.

Wednesday afternoon my friends arrived. I was studying for an accounting exam, so I told them to go enjoy themselves while I stayed in the air conditioning. Rory brought fishing equipment and was out on the beach catching fish within an hour of landing while Mojdeh found a sunny piece of sand and thawed out in the radiation.

That was pretty much par for the week. Rory fishing, Mojdeh fishing until she got bored then reading a book in the sun, me studying, changing bandages, and keeping out of the sun and water. By Thursday I was running again, though I couldn’t swing my right arm and my hip was painfully causing me to limp. Friday I took my exam and reluctantly agreed to spend Saturday morning at a time-share presentation in order to get a discount on a fishing boat trip the following Monday. Mainly I wanted to get out of the hotel room for long enough to feel like I was getting ready to race.

The presentation turned into a humorous morning. We met the guys who organized the trip for us that morning outside our hotel and were briefed on the protocol we needed to follow. Rory and Mojdeh were asked to wear wedding rings that were purchased for them on the way to the resort. The cab ride was much longer than expected, and by the time we arrived at the resort I was already starting to feel the “I’m racing tomorrow and things need to go my way” primadonna attitude coming out. Luckily, there was free food, which always makes me happy. Our guide spent about an hour asking us questions, though she was mainly interested in Rory and Mojdeh and had very little to say to me. They asked where I like to vacation and I told them “home” because I rarely get to spend any time there anymore and that’s where my friends are. Rory told them straight up that he hates resorts and would never buy into a massive place like that. Mojdeh told them she wouldn’t be interested in anything like that until she was a mother (I think she nearly said “until I’m married” but caught herself). I looked at the offer and figured out that what they were offering could provide a 30% annual return on the investment, and started asking lots of questions. The salesmen ignored me, and told Rory that the reason he doesn’t like resorts is because he doesn’t feel he can afford them and subconsciously he would rather believe he doesn’t like the resort than admit that it’s a financial situation. I don’t think he knew his audience very well.

After the presentation we hurried back so I could do the bike course preview. I’ll summarize by paraphrasing Jarrod Shoemaker’s tweets regarding the course: This is the most dangerous course ever. Cobble 180s, freshly paved sections with loose blacktop, and tire eating cracks in the center of the road. We weren’t able to ride the entire route, however, because they were still paving part of it.

Saturday is when I finally made the decision that I was healed enough to race. I hadn’t swum since the previous Sunday, but I was healthy enough to give the race a shot. It didn’t go so well because of that, but I learned a few things about how to keep myself prepared when I can’t train. Two words: core strength. That’s what I should have been working on during the 6 days of rest.

Next up, a full race report for my 8th place finish at the Pan-American Championships.

I finished my homework and started writing about my last two weeks in Mexico. In the meantime, here’s a video that Rory put together. This is how you train when you’re missing skin on a quarter of your back and have to race again in a week. More on how I lost all that skin when I post again.

Woah! It’s been three weeks since Worlds, and SO much has happened. I’m back in Colorado and finishing up what is probably the last little training block of 2010, getting ready for Huatulco and Puerto Vallarta (World Cup and Continental Championships, respectively), catching up on schoolwork (I guess if I wasn’t behind it’s not really catching up, but that’s how it feels), and trying to keep focus for just a few more weeks (meaning I’m NOT thinking about all the awesome things I’m going to do in the off-season… maybe a trip to Hawaii for a month or two, if I take a trip to Europe I’ll be Platinum Elite on Continental Airlines – that could be fun – somehow I need to get my cross country skis to Colorado, so maybe I’ll go back to Seattle for a little while… okay, I’m NOT thinking about this yet!)

After Worlds I felt pretty terrible until a few days ago. I trained right through the fatigue, knowing that it was mainly just jet lag, and was hoping for a miracle at Nationals in Tuscaloosa last weekend. The miracle happened in the form of a crash and a blown tire within the first minute of the bike. In other word, there was not a miracle. By the time I got to the wheel pit and changed tires I was out of the race, so I caught up with a small group of U23 athletes and turned the day into a fun workout. Once the pressure was off, I managed to have a much better time than most of the guys in the front pack. Steve Sexton, for instance, had a temperature of 107 degrees when he crossed the finish line – WOAH!! Maybe in Tuscaloosa one should wear their ice vest during the race, not just before.

So I came back from Tuscaloosa empty handed. I dropped out after a hard 5k run in order to save my legs for the bigger races coming up.

Back in Colorado… There’s really not much going on here. I spent a few days with Rory and Mojdeh in Boulder, and got a bike fit from Retul on my new Orbea Orca road bike frame. That bike is awesome! I really wanted to get some exposure for Orbea at Nationals (it’s going to be on Verses 10/14), but I’ll have to get my TV time at another race. The bike deserves a blog post of its own, so I’ll stop here and save more for another post.

This is another video from the San Francisco Pan-America Cup. It shows the actual racing!

Not much else is going on here in London. We’re training in a 30.3m pool (33.3yards) which has made swim practice rather interesting: “Alright, 4×60.6 on a minute, followed by 4×90.9 on 1:15 right into a 363.6 on 5 minutes…” I’ve nearly died in training rides, and will likely stay on the trainer indoors the rest of the trip (except for the race of course), and the running here is littered with landmarks, statues, and plenty of other things to look at. It’s pretty fun.

Not everything went right today, but the important stuff did.

The race started right on time, and Brian Fleischmann and I were lined up right along the far left side of the deep water start. I was hoping we would start early since they had us lined up in 14 degree water over two minutes before the gun (and since I was number one I had an extra two minutes in the water at least). For all my nervousness about a deep water start I discovered there was nothing to worry about. I pulled away from the line quickly and met up with Tommy Zafaras (also coached by Victor Plata) around 150m into the swim. He’s fast, so I stuck on his feet until the second buoy. At that point I started having trouble following his line, and I decided it was time to push the pace anyway. I took the lead (thought apparently I was swimming a line that looked like a seismometer reading) and never looked back.

I was first out the water, and was surprised that the group behind me was strung out and I didn’t recognize anyone. I started off on the bike slowly, putting on my shoes and hoping somebody would catch up to work with me. I didn’t want to let up too much because I figured if people had to work to get up to me it would weed out anyone without the firepower to do so. One guy finally caught up, though when he did and I tuned on the gas he lasted less than half the lap before falling back.

From there I turned the 25 seconds I had out the water on the main group into 45 seconds by the end of the 3rd lap, then gave up 15 seconds and finished my solo 40k bike ride about 30 seconds up on a group of 11 that had been working to catch me. I ran like I was being hunted, eleven wolves drooling for the taste of victory if they could catch me. After the first lap (of 3) I had 27 seconds left.

On the sidelines Victor was encouraging me, “you look better than all of those guys! You’re not giving up any time! You won’t give up any time!!” Next to him was my college friend Brandon Basso yelling, “Ben! You look like a runner!!!”

Both helped. I put my head down and a lap later I had 35 seconds over the next runner, but I could see that Steve Sexton had made a move and was running away from the rest of his pack. At the final turn around Steve had closed the gap back to 27 seconds, but with only 1500 meters to go I was starting to think about the finish. I had to snap myself back into the race twice in that final stretch, reminding myself to focus on the moment, “C’mon Ben!” I told myself. “It’s not over yet, endure it.”

And I did. I arrived at finish chute with time to spare, strutted up to the line and grabbing the ribbon with the pride of a lion. This is my first win in an ITU race. Heck, it’s my first win at a legitimate pro race! And I did it the hard way! Solo for 51 kilometers!! I don’t know if it was guts or stupidity (maybe both) but it worked. My parents were there to watch, Victor was there to watch, Tracy and Brandon and Christine and Kelly all made it out to watch me race… it was so exciting! I love having friends and family there for me, and it’s even better when I get to give them a show.

As for the little things: my bike showed up from Reno this morning (huh?) but the only way to get it before the race was to ask my parents to pick it up. Then I sliced my finger nearly to the bone on a metal part of the case. (after being charged both ways I’m realizing this case was a mistake. I’ll have to go back to my homemade no-charge bike case v2.0 – which really doesn’t get charged.) Later on I struggled to get out urine so long that Victor and my dad had yo pack the bike (I haven’t looked inside yet…), and by the time awards were given out my dad was waving his watch at me trying to cut my speech short. I had to ask my mom to drive like road warrior to the Oakland airport in order to get me there at 4:57 for a 5:45 flight back to Denver. I checked in within a minute of the cutoff time, then found a CO2 cartridge in my backpack and was given secondary screening because I gave it to TSA rather than chancing it through the bag scanner. I still made it to the gate, though it wasn’t until I took my seat I felt like the race was finally over. Woohoo!

So far my action packed weekend has been going as planned. Meaning, things have gone wrong and I’m dealing with them. The first thing to go wrong was that Southwest charged me $50 for my new homemade bike case that I was hoping to not be charged for. The lady at the counter pulled out a tape measure and showed a trainee how you measure a suitcase. It came out to 69 inches, 7 inches over and she wouldn’t budge. “It’s only 30 pounds, can’t you give me a few inches leeway for being under the weight limit by so much?” No dice. “I haven’t been charged for the case before, it was designed to be small enough to avoid fees.” No dice. “You can’t just give me a break this one time?” I flashed my pearly whites the cutest way I know how, but still: No dice.

From there I was forced to remember that Denver International has extremely long security lines. They twist around past exhibits and information signs like a ride at Disney. I was glad I had arrived with plenty of time to spare.

The extra time I had allowed before my flight also made me a little surprised when my bike didn’t make it to Oakland. Southwest is normally very good about baggage, in fact, this may be the first time in dozens of flights that I’ve had to file a claim with them. Here I found one downside to flying Southwest: other airlines reimburse baggage fees when the bags don’t show up, Southwest doesn’t. I wasn’t too worried It was a direct flight; one of many direct flights from Denver, and not the last one of the day. I figured it would show up later last night, but when I called yesterday evening, there was still no knowledge of where it was.

In the meantime, I drove to Tiburon and borrowed a bike from Ian Charles. It’s a Scott road bike that’s so light weight I almost hope my bike doesn’t make it. I mean, it’s a little small, and the crank length is off, and it’s always strange riding someone else’s bike, but still, it’s a really nice bike. I rode it around for an hour last night, and if I have to use it, it’ll do the trick.

The first non-bike related problem was when I found out the swim start is a deep water start. ITU races are not normally deep water starts, and the last time I did this race they had a pontoon for us to dive off. I’m not a fan of deep water starts because with this many guys they become unnecessarily rough. People will grab and jab at each other (hopefully unintentionally) and it’s starts like this that are the reason one should wear padded goggles in a race. And if that alone won’t make the swim rough, there’s only 250 meters until the first turn buoy, so we have about 70 men who will likely be 15 or 20 men wide at the first buoy all trying to make a 120 degree turn. That’s going to be rough.

Luckily, I’m start number “1″ so I get to pick my position on the start line first. I’m going for one of the sides. I really don’t want to be in the middle when all these guys start beating at the water trying to get a grip.

So with a crazy swim, and a bike that’s not mine, I’m thankful that the run is exactly as expected. I have my K-Swiss K-Ruuz to run in, and that’s really all I need for the last leg of the race.

I’m starting off on a rapid-fire weekend! Last night I stayed with Rory in Boulder, this morning I swam with Tyler Butterfield at the outdoor 50m pool, and now, after a solid breakfast with Rory and Mojdeh, I’m on the shuttle to Denver International for a quick flight to San Francisco. There, I’ll get a ride to my hotel from Christine, put my bike together, head to Treasure Island for a bike/run workout, plus the prerace meeting at 5. Then it’s dinner with Victor and my parents, and sleep.

And if one busy day isn’t enough, tomorrow I race at 1pm, finish by 3. Drug testing, then awards (hopefully!) at 3:30, then record breaking bike packing and a quick trip to Oakland to catch a 5:45pm flight back to Denver.

I love this.