Ironman Lake Placid 2012

I had cautiously high hopes going into Ironman Lake Placid.  Cautious mainly because my 2002 ironman lake placid experience washellish...I had to "will" myself just to finish. Being somewhat naïve about electrolyte intake, I had cramped heavily on the bike beginning around mile 75, forcing me off the bike at mile 90, and continuing through mile 15 on the run but taking enough electrolyte fluids to enable me to run/hobble home (with Kim waiting for me so that we could finish together).

When I signed up for the 2012 race a year ago, my main objective was to have a better experience than 2002. Since my 2010 and 2011's goals focussed on completing the California Triple Crown (three double centuries), I felt my cycling base was well ahead of 2002; but swimming and running have been practically non-existent for the past few years. So I started with baby steps… 30 minutes of swimming drills in the pool and 15 minutes of running were the workouts that first week. From that I spent time building my base run and swim.

To help achieve my objectives I hired a coach through Training Bible Coaching (Joe Friel is a well known triathlon coaching guru who now has a fleet of coaches that generally follow is style of training). In March after my initial coach decided to focus on his full-time job, Trevor Glavin set my training schedule the rest of the way. Chris Padavana at Eden Bicycles helped convert Kim's Felt B2 into a Tribike fit for me. Dr. Lauren Elkin at Integro Sports (implementing Active Release Technique) helped me come back from a shoulder injury in January and chronic hip flexor issues. Tyrone Williams' massages were instrumental in keeping my body supple. Kim and Noah helped keep my sanity when things were at their worst.

I had forgotten the effort needed to train in three sports, plus work, plus have a family life. Work and family both suffered during the critical weeks and months leading up to the event. The longest weeks were 20+ hours of training not including the driving, appointments, and rest. The coach's plan contained a much higher level of intensity training than I did 10 years earlier.

Originally Kim and I were going to do the event together again. With the stress of trading training, illness, and poor form, Kim decided not to do the event in April. For me this created a variety of emotions: guilt, tension, and loneliness; but in the end it was probably for the best. She plans to do the inaugural Ironman Lake Tahoe next year.

I headed to Lake Placid on my own via Montreal with a pleasant drive from Canada headed south. I enjoyed the forested beauty of upstate New York with numerous ponds, lakes, and streams. My accommodations were interesting, a rural cabin about 5 miles outside the town with an outhouse and adobe fire stove which I shared with a scientist from UCSF in Mission Bay (purely coincidental that we were both from the Bay Area).

I forgot how time consuming the pre-race festivities are: sign-in; bike retrieval from Tri Bike Transport; pre race dinner; mandatory meeting; driving the course; short/taper runs, swims and rides; ART/massage work; expo; putting special needs and transition bags together; racking the bike and bags; napping; shopping; participated in an Infinit Nutrition simulation camp lead by pro triathlete Dede Griesbauer; etc. etc. It wasn't until Saturday that I actually got to relax, start reading a new novel, and then napping the afternoon away in a hammock in the woods.

Race morning I awoke at 2 to begin my pre-race meal consisting of baby food and electrolyte drink. At 4:30 I willed myself out of bed and entered the transition area to body mark, check the bike, stretch, change to the wetsuit, use the facilities, and drop the special needs bags off.
My personal goals were to:

1. Finish
2. Survive the swim
3. Have fun during the day (don't lose perspective)
4. Improve on all times from 2002
5. Negative Split the Swim, Bike, Run
6. Feel strong at the end
7. Dream day would be sub 12:00 (s1:30, b6:00, r4:00, t0:30)

I started far right of the race buoys near the back shore. After the start gun sounded, I waited 30 seconds to get a bit of clear water to swim and stayed far right on the first ½ lap. Heading back towards the race line buoys was rough, getting elbowed in the nose, pulled down, and swam over.  I felt considerably stronger on the second lap, more relaxed, able to find a good rhythm, some feet to draft, and stayed near the underwater cable/buoys, mostly on the inside of the line. Coming out of the water felt good (at least I was with many other swimmers!) and the quarter mile run to transition was easy. 
Link to You Tube Ironman Swim Start

I had decided to do the ride in traditional bike shorts (I never felt comfortable training in the tri suit on long rides) and it took a bit of time (transition tent was standing room only) to change.  I paced myself on the bike up the first climb and throughout the first lap – it was windy with some tailwind on the flats and headwind on the climb back to Lake Placid.  At the half way point I realized that the bike was hillier than I had thought and that a sub 6 hour bike wasn't going to be possible with the wind (and I was ok with that perspective).  On the second lap the wind shifted and seemed stronger with more swirling and less tailwind and considerably hotter/muggier after the decent into Keene.  I kept to my nutrition plan with one bottle per hour supplemented by water that I drank/poured over me (I could have used a third cage to keep the water).  My arm coolers were drying out quickly (within 15 minutes of each aide station). My legs felt good throughout and none of the fills felt overly difficult.

Heading into the run my legs were a bit stiff but working ok and the first few miles went fine.  I was drinking a bit at each aide station and was continuing to supplement with salt caps but my stomach was feeling odd.  By mile 7 I was still running but not feeling well.  At mile 9, just in front of the ski jumps, both inner hamstrings seized up simultaneously forcing me to walk.  By mile 14 I had slowed to a crawl, my stomach was aching, hamstrings cramping, mentally I was shutting down, and I just wanted to lie down at the side of the road and go to sleep.  

At the 15 mile marker I heaved repeatedly at the side of the road until all the fluid (I was on a strictly liquid diet) in my stomach was expunged.  I immediately felt better mentally and physically. The next aide station had chicken broth (first one all day) which sounded fantastic!  I took two or three cups at each mile station thereafter.  My legs began to loosen I was able to start walking faster.  At mile 18 the cramps were receding and I was able to run again at mile 19.  I ran the rest of the way back to the finish (walking aide stations and a part of the steep hill in downtown – the mile splits from the Garmin were encouraging) and felt alive and strong. The final miles were fresh and easy and the finish euphoric!

Body and mind work together sometimes and sometimes they are at odds. Learning to feel and understand what the body needs and fueling it appropriately helps but the mind in focus. My motto for the race was to have 5H's which I repeated throughout: relaxed Heals, loose Hips, soft Hands, quiet Heart, and a clear Head.

Link to: Schaefer Race Video Recap

After the initial elation and with weeks to analyze/over-analyze my outcome, I think I was:

• physically prepared,
• able to finish strong,
• able to overcome the demons of the day,
• accomplished 50%+ of my goals (1, 2, partly 3, 4, 5, and 6),
• not overconfident but should have had a better run nutrition plan or had a more defined contingency plan. 

While I initially was a bit disappointed with my results (time), I'm thankful for the opportunity to do the race again and that 10 years later my body, mind, and will were able to achieve my ultimate goal.  

As I explained with one of my Eden cycling teammates today, it's not about swimming 2.4 miles, riding 112, and then running a marathon.  If you think of it that way during the race it is overwhelming to consider and a parallel to life.  When life (work, family, health, or iron) gets hard you need to set smaller 'bite size' goals.  In Ironman it's the next buoy, the next lap, the next aide station, the next light post, or even the next dash in the center of the road.  While self-inflicted, Ironman or any endurance activity helps me to charish each moment and prepare me for life's future challenges.

 
2012 Ironman Lake Placid

Daniel Schaefer

Age Group Rank: 148

Overall Rank: 1066

BIB: 2315
Division: M45-49
Age:46
State: CA
Country:USA
Profession:Engineer

Swim:1:25:17
Bike:6:11:52
Run:5:23:09
Overall: 13:18:27

Congratulations, Daniel, on your finish!

2002
1471     15:32:40 Schaefer, Daniel        Castro Valle CA USA    276/313 M35-39  796  295 1622 1:32:32  2:27   7:04  279 1465 7:28:03  15.0   26:50  256 1368 5:58:14 13:41  

2011 Terrible Two

SUMMARY
Terrible Two Santa Rosa Double Century
200 miles
16,800 feet vertical climbing
Weather: 50 to 100, mild fog to bright sun
Ride time: 13:33; Total elapsed time 14:35 (official)
Ave speed: 14.8 mph
Ave power: 135 Watts
Ave heart rate: not working
Finish: 66th

In scanning the weather report continuously for the month after the Central Coast, I was gaging my suitability for attempting the aptly named Terrible Two. As shade temperature can reach over 100-degrees, which equates to 110+ on the bike, I understood the reality this suggested for me. Having learned through rough experiences earlier in my cycling adventure (trips to the hospital included) that heat was not my friend, I wanted a good (perfect?) weather forecast before I would commit. Once the long range guestimate turned into a short range forecast, I submitted my entry only a week before the start.

Feeling that my peak season conditioning was during May (although it never felt peakish), I would be attempting to ride solely on my base conditioning from earlier in the year without much focused hill training.

Unlike Central Coast or Solvang, a large group of riders (seemed like way more than 250) left Sebastopol in mass at 5:30 am under cover of light fog. After an easy tempo through Santa Rosa, the lead neutral car pulled over, the chit chat ceased, and the ride (race) was on.

I paced myself over the first smaller Bennett Valley category 3 incline and decent before hitting Trinity Grade (3 miles at 9% average grade) which started steep. Here I decided to just set my own tempo and not worry about anyone else. The sweeping decent was fast with good pavement, reaching a speed of 50 mph on our way to Oakville. It was here that I joined a group of riders to form a paceline to share the work pulling the ‘train.’ Heading north on the Silverado Trail, I met two minor misfortunes, first feeling hamstring cramping at mile 50, and second, smacking a rut squarely enough to hear the hiss of a rear wheel tire puncture. Two group trains passed as I fixed the wheel and began the day’s incredible consumption of Electrolyte salt tabs, Calcium, and Magnesium. I caught on the back of a third group and continued the paceline efforts up the valley.

Vernon from San Francisco, one of my compatriots from Central Coast was in this group and we chatted a bit before the day’s longest climb up, a 9 mile double peaked beast up the Geysers on poor uneven pavement. It was here that it dawned on me that I should have a 28 toothed rear cog and not just a 26. While I’d used the 26 on all the other doubles and the death ride, my pure power output is lacking in general for the year. A 28 would have helped a lot to maintain a more even tempo throughout the event. Vernon and I summited the climb together and began the bone jarring decent on wickedly bumpy and potholed with graveled unpaved sections down making it more worrisome than fun.

At the lunch stop at 110 miles we had completed well less than half the climbing and while the rest of my body felt fine, my legs were stiff, tight and thighs crampy. As we began the ascent up Skaggs Springs Road, my Garmin’s temperature gage began heading towards 100 degrees. Occasionally we would feel a breeze that would cool the sweat, but mostly it was hot, steep and relentless. I left Vernon (for the time being) and pedal at a consistent rate with power in the 160 watt range. While ascending the second Skaggs peak, the cramping worsened forcing me to stop, stretch and take copious amounts of capsules. This went on for the next 50 miles by riding 5 to 10 miles, cramping, stopping, stretching, more capsules, more riding, more cramping, and on and on.

Reaching the coast, I was actually chilled (60ish degrees) but savored the scenery and the weather. At the Fort Ross rest stop, Vernon caught me once again and we paced one another up the last true steep climb. Near the top a rider was waiting for his friend and asked if I wanted to race to the summit. Already spent from the ride and the cramping I said “sure” as I watched him jump and stomp to the summit. When I, at my unwavering tempo pace, reach him I asked “so how old are your legs?” He looked at me oldly and asked me to repeat. “How old are your legs.” “17” was the reply. “I never had the patience to ride 200 miles at 17! Great job!” Afterwards I told Vernon: “I’m probably older than his father!”

The ride from Cazadero to Monte Rio to Occidential was beautiful and brought back memories of elementary and junior high camp at Alliance Redwoods and Mount Gilead. While still tight and cramping, we managed to up our pace to 20 miles per hour before and after the 500’ ‘minor’ climb to Occidential.

We were happy to see the finish and welcome home. It was nice to finish before my main goal (finish before dark). I saw and said hello to an number of riders from White Mountain and Central Coast whom were part of the journey. After riding over 15 hours with Vernon over the course of the last two double and finishing together on both, I know little more than his name, occupation, place of work, home town, and current town… He probably knows about the same about me. But we both did the same three doubles this year, the misery cold and sopping wet of Solvang; the power, tempo, and isolation of Central Coast, and the hard, hot, crampy, and thrill of the Terrible Two. Maybe his experience was the same, but I doubt it.

I’m learning that for me riding long is more an internal mind game, an escape, a release, and an awareness, a gain of a new perspective that transcends the ride itself…and life.

2011 Central Coast Double

At the 7 mile mark and 30 minutes into the ride, I knew it was to be a long day. I had forgotten, from the old Bicycle Rally Days (Memorial Day Weekend Bikefest), that Paso Robles is only flat north to south. After only a mile heading north we turned west. We were now six miles into the first climb with one mile to go to the top and 201 miles to the finish. I was already looking at my Garmin (Power 250 Watts – too much, heart rate 163 – way too high) as I saw three much fitter climbers scamper up the road and out of sight while I tried to hang onto the back of the group. I’m not one for fast starts, even on group rides I usually warm up (sometimes in stealth) before heading out to climb.

As the 6 rider group crested the summited, I lingered at the back. The roads continued to roll till I was dropped on a steeper climb just before reaching the first aid station (mile 30). Luckily the group lingered at the station long enough for me to catch back on. We then flew through portions of the Wildflower Triathlon Long Course before we entered Fort Hunter Liggett. While I didn’t recall any of the roads we traversed, my experience inspecting the base’s pavement in 1987 during my college co-op during 115-degree summer heat is unforgettable.

At mile 65, the group pulled away again, leaving me to solo up the Nacimiento-Fergusson Road climb (to elevation 2600). The ocean view from the top was breathtaking. As I descended the narrow, unmarked centerline road there were an increasing number of cars, motorcycles, and RVs (taking up the entire road) preventing a Padavanian (Chris P – owner of Eden Bicycles who was showing up the Rabobank guys descending Lake Tahoe in the ToC prep pre-snow ride) descent. As I neared the bottom, I spotted three groups of two riders just being the climb out from the coast. I had not realized that the reroute of the ride (due to the same Highway 1 landslide that prevented the Tour of California from riding the central coast) would take us out to the coast and then immediately back up the same climb we just descended. At the bottom, one of the Hoodoo 500 kitted riders (who had dropped us on the first climb) was carrying his front wheel. He had blown out his carbon wheel by overheating it on the descent. I was thankful that my rims were holding.

The climb back up was slow and steady reaching 10 and 12-percent grades. I was beginning to get into a groove and just kept it steady. Once over the climb, there were less switch backs and vehicles allowing me to open up the descent. After a quick lunch, I was back to my solo effort. Inland now, the 40-degree coast was long gone and the temperature reached 75. At least the weather was great! After another long climb in barren country, I descended back to Locke and the second to last rest stop (Mile 142) to discover three of the early morning riders were about to leave. Hurriedly I restocked Hammer Perpetuem Latte and Heed in my bottles and was off, glad to be riding in a group again after 85 solo.

We traversed back through Interlake Road (Wildflower Course) and climbed more before descending Nasty Grade and heading towards highway 101. I could keep with my new friends on the long ascents but had trouble hanging on with the short steep power efforts. After one last climb up Hare Canyon, we came to the last stop (they were serving hot dogs…I did not partake!). We took turns pulling our way south into a stiff headwind. Finally a “Paso Robles – 5 Miles” sign lifted our sprints and we entered the City full of gratitude and praise for our mutual achievements.

Central Coast Double
207 miles
14,600 feet vertical climbing
Weather 41 to 75, partly cloudy and breezy
Ride time 12:48; Total elapsed time 13:20
Ave speed 16.2 mph
Ave power 162 Watts
Ave heart rate 137 bpm
Teammates: None
Finish: Tied for 6th with three others

Postscript:

While I “left my climbing legs at home,” I did enjoy the ride, the weather, the camaraderie, the great staff and volunteers, and the ability to persevere .

Thanks to my support team…Kim, Noah, and family; Eden Bicycle Shop (Chris P and Kevin) for a great setup; great group rides and support from Eden Bicycle Club and IC3; Dr. Lauren Elkind and Dr. Nancy at Integro Sports in Walnut Creek, and Tyrone Williams at HST for massage…I needed and thought of each of you during the ride.

Calm Amid the Solvang Double Century Storm

I purposely tried not to check the weather reports too often leading up to the event. In Northern California, storms continuously passed throughout March. Each time I checked Solvang weather I would see ‘afternoon showers’ or ‘partly cloudy’ or just ‘rain.’ I finally decided that it would be what it was and I would need to deal with it to stop the naysayer in my mind. Which is what I needed to do just to get myself to the event...and finish it!

My training program was supposed to mimic my regiment from last year with a lot of base miles in December and January, and then more strategic miles in February and March. However after the IC3 training camp I attended in January, things seemed to falling apart. I was feeling strong enough to finish my 100 mile training rides, but without power, and then being dropped on team rides, tired, and unmotivated. My ART (active release technique) doctor said I may have lost my ‘Chi’ energy. I reluctantly agreed and took time off the bike, ate super foods (fresh eggs from our chickens, yogurt, and green leafy veggies), took vitamins and minerals (B-complex, Adrenaline, Magnesium, etc.), and got a lot of sleep. With 3 weeks before the event, I had a ‘go-no go’ 125-mile decision ride out Mines Road (with JD from Eden) to see how I felt. Finally I was beginning to feel ok and signed up for the event that evening.

In awaking to cloudy skies and 45-degree weather, I thought how nice the warmer cloud cover was compaired to last year’s 32-degree start (a now regretful thought). As I soft pedaled from Solvang to the start in Buellton, I waved to and encouraged riders headed out in the opposite direction already beginning their efforts.

My event strategy was fairly simple: ride with the 7:30 last group as long as possible and then pace myself the rest of the way looking for ‘friends’ to share the pace and work. My spirits were dampened just a bit when I arrived at the start and found that this year everyone was being timed which left only about 15 leaving last. This meant that being dropped early would lead to a long day alone.

The pace at the outset was steady mostly lead by a tandem with a few true ultra types (Hoodoo 500 finishers) taking long strong pulls. I stayed near the back to be sheltered from the wind and to have time to chat with a few riders, one with whom I had done Solvang and Davis last year (Dave from Davis Bike Club who later ‘won’ the event this year). The group then yo-yoed on the Foxen Canyon climb and decent which is where I made my first error. Nature was calling but I thought I could wait until the first aide station (rather than stopping and then catching onto the group behind). When the group reformed, they plowed through the aide station (now I know why they are carrying extra bottles in their jersey). An hour and a half later we had covered 75 miles in 3:30 and I finally whispered my adieu to the group as I pulled off to head the nature break.

It was then that I felt the first sprinkles. When I arrived alone at the second aide station (mile 93), it was beginning to shower. As I had depleted both water bottles, I stopped to refill (and take another nature break). Through San Luis Obispo and out towards Morro Bay I rode mostly solo until the Tandem from the morning caught me and I sat on their wheel for the next 40 miles while the rain began falling in earnest and the gutters spill.

By the lunch stop, I was soaked to the bone. My new rain slick and ‘water proof’ gloves decided that after more than two hours of constant rain, constant spray from the tandem, and the swirling wind was enough. I quickly ate half of a sandwich, refilled my bottles, visited the port-a-potty and left. At about mile 140 I realized that my left hand was so cold that I could no longer shift into the big chain ring. I was also beginning to shake in convulsions on the descents (even though it was 52-degrees). Rain + Cool + Wind = COLD, another mistake…[knee warmers, arm warmers, gloves, rain jacket – not enough!…why was I chuckling at the folks I passed in full rain gear? Am I going to finish?]

Finally at the last rest stop in Los Alimos, I was able to warm up a bit with hot cup-a-noodle soup. As the course was changed from prior years, we navigated back over Foxen and then towards Solvang. I realized the rain was letting up as we headed south lending to a few rays of sunshine as we entered Bulletin and checked into the finish. While tired and hungry, my body held together well and I finished pleased.

What I love about riding long is overcoming the fear and guilt that are inherent in being human. After a while, that ‘second guessing’ voice in my mind is too tired to object, complain, and doubt. I feel free to just ride. I don’t believe these voices are part of our true self or what God intends. By riding long, I can free myself of these voices and be at peace, in connection with God and nature, loving life even while suffering. This is what I love about riding long.

Event: Solvang Double Century, March 26, 2011
Participants: 484 preregistered, 379 starters, 288 finishers
Course distance and profile: 199.8 miles, 8300 feet of climbing
Weather: Cool 52-degrees, cloudy, rain, wind, more rain, and very wet
IC3 /Eden Cycling Club Riders: Dan Schaefer
Result: 11 hours 11 minutes total elapsed
Position: #5 for overall solo category, [#2 in my own over 45 solo ‘non-category’]

http://www.planetultra.com/solvang/Results/2011results.htm

White Mountain Double and a Succussful California Triple Crown

It was mid July when my wife indicated that if I wanted to attempt the California Triple Crown (3 doubles in a year), that she need to make the selection. Having more to do with her own training regiment and when she would have a ‘rest’ week, she would need to be able to give our son undivided attention while I was away. So September 11th became the date for the White Mountain Double, an event and place I had never heard of.

http://web.mac.com/ndzone/NdZONE/White_Mountain.html

Being a little superstitious, I was hoping that the date and place wasn’t ominous. I had 6 weeks to peak which allowed for a 125 mile solo ride and back to back 100’s (one in Arnold to Ebbetts Pass at 7,800-feet and the next day at home out to Livermore/Calaveras/Milpitas and then home).

As I learned, the White Mountains border the Nevada side of the Sierras in the high plain dessert of the Inyo National Forrest east of Yosemite. Seeing the Bishop weather forecast for 90s, the high elevation, and low humidity, my apprehension rose in recalling having been to the hospital more than once for heat stroke/dehydration. I started my hydration routine a week early with Nuun’s (www.nuun.com) and soup (“one large Pho Ga please”) daily for lunch…

The 6 hour drive from the east bay to Bishop was a new experience, since it was my first time through stunning Tuolumne Meadow, Tioga Pass, and Mono Lake.

At 5:00 am I arrived at the start with a roll call and mass ‘late’ start (the early start left at 4:00 am). The first 20 miles consisted of a single paceline of cyclists trying to stay warm and off the highway shoulder rumble strip. As we made a left turn and begin to ascend up the valley floor, the pack severed. Knowing that 20 miles and 6,000 vertical feet of climbing were ahead, I decided to ride my own comfortable pace.

The valley plain narrowed into a stream-less draw. While it appeared flat, my Garmin indicated an 8-percent steady climb. With a steady headwind, it would be a long haul to the summit. After 10 miles, I reach the crest of the mountains saddle and headed north for the out and back section to Schulman’s Grove (elevation 10,100) with switchbacks and steeper Diablo-esk climbs, some of the oldest pine trees in the world (and the last of the trees we would see all day!).

After a fast decent, I decided to find a group to share both the experience and the work. For the next 140 miles our group swelled to as many as eight, but remained steady at 4 till the end. Entering Nevada, we felt the wind on are backs and the pace quickened to average 30 miles per hour for the hour before lunch. At Dyer we stopped for a cold one (coke in a glass bottle!) and quick lunch, and then off towards Highway 6 looking for signs the Lunar Landing (yes it was starting to get hot and we didn’t want to discuss politics) in the desert plains.

At mile 135 we began the final 15 mile assent to a 7,000-foot pass in the mountain. With the work seemingly over, we all felt strong and ready for the 50 mile descent back to Bishop. Ten miles later, the major descending was over and we discovered that the final 40 mile approach to the finish would be against a 30 mile an hour headwind. Our 25 mph pace slowed to 18 then 17 then 16. We were down to two of us taking pulls with a couple of passengers hanging on.

Finally we were caught by a small group who pulled for about 10 miles until we saw the Bishop sign and the road bent west leaving the headwind behind. We were elated at the finish at both completing the ride, our place results (3rd to 6th place finishers of 110 starters) and the good fortune of the day.

My body felt tired but less depleted than I had expected. My goal was to be hydrated enough to take a natural break (sans restroom) at every stop (which worked well for the first 150 miles). The ride was well organized with a good amount of aide stations and encouragement!

With a sleepless post ride night (still pedaling), I left early Sunday morning for the scenic return trip to the Bay Area. With the results finalized, I was pleased at joining the elite California Triple Crown and meet my 2010 athlete goals (including over 7,000 miles, 400 hours, and over 380,000 vertical feet of climbing on the bike since Christmas). Now to meet those family, work, and friend goals…who’s first?

***********

p.s. Special thanks to my wife and son for putting up with my 'time out' this year, to the Eden Cycling Race Team for their support and companionship, Chris P and Eden Bicycles in Castro Valley, Dr. Elkind at Integro Sports in Walnut Creek for the Active Release Technique, and Tyrone Williams at HST for the massage work. I wouldn't have been able to accomplish this dream without your support! Thank You!

Committing to the Davis Double

Unlike the structured buildup and peaking effort for the Solvang Double, preparing for Davis was more a test of will. Since the Solvang ride, my legs, body, and spirit were all pedaling square…lacking the discipline and motivation to commit to Davis. My legs were tired. My mind wanted to press. My body wanted to rest.

The weekend of the Devil Mountain Double was my supposed ‘go/no go’ decision ride. I pedaled out Mines Road to the junction and back, just catching of glimpse of Kevin Comerford as he crested the initial climb on the way to his impressive finish of a truly grueling day. I, on the other hand, finished my 108 mile trek bonking, overheated, and ready to become a fly fisher full time – a no-go decision.

Wildflower changed that notion. There is something to be said in watching people suffer and overcome. Noah and I enjoyed the weekend spectating. He was very interested in the Challenged Athletics with missing legs and limbs. We stopped by the Challenged Athletes Foundation (www.callengedathletes.org) booth, saw pictures and talked with athletes. We helped at an aide station for a bit and cheered Kim on. How can you not be inspired?

So with two weeks to the event I registered. I reinforced my commitment to soft pedal and spin rather than power and pressing. I took time out of training to visit both Tyrone Williams of HST, my massage therapist, and Dr. Lauren Elkind of Integro Sports my ART specialist. I also got new ‘sexy’ Reynolds Wheels with Powertap from Eden Bicycles that Kim had ordered for my birthday (Wow!).

And then it was Saturday. The ride from and to Davis (first and last 50 miles) is rather flat, circumventing the orchards and vineyards west of town. The only real peloton (bike train) developed around mile 10 to the first aide station with average speeds over 25 mph. At Putah Creek the route climbs to Lake Berryessa and then up Cardiac Hill into Napa County. From Berryessa, the route through rural Pope Valley (reminiscent of my first Road Race in 1990 in a less than stellar Cat 4 career), to Middletown and then climbing Highway 110 to Lower Lake near Clear Lake.

Although Davis had twice the riders (1000) as Solvang, I found few working groups to share the pace making. From the feed station at mile 100 to the finish I rode with one or two others, and passed only a handful of riders. As the downward grade from Clear Lake leveled, we entered the most stressful course section: Cache Creek at 4 pm, mile 170. I had no idea that the casino was 1) in the middle of nowhere, 2) was served by a 2-lane rural highway with no shoulders, 3) allowed both tour buses ,and 4) most concerting…served alcohol. With thoughts of riding Niles Canyon Road during rush hour, we upped the pace in a desperate move to avoid confrontation. Only one angry motorist honking and yelling ‘get out of the road.’ (In its 41st year, the Davis Double has used this road before there was a casino)

At mile 185 I began to feel the effects of the temperature (my computer says it was 100 degrees, but I’m guessing It was only 85…but I’ve always had difficulty with heat on long rides). I could hold 175 watts (19 mph) on the flats but had nothing more. Dejay, a Western States Ultra Runner by preferred sport and my compatriot for the final 40 miles, waited more than once for me to tag back onto his wheel. With 8 miles to go we stopped at the final rest stop…I downed 2 grilled cheese sandwiches (best food of the day) and a handful of ice for inside my helmet and down my shirt.

All in all it was a successful day. I didn’t try to press for time but road a pace suited for my current conditioning and desires. I also tried not to lag at any of the feed stations…it always hurts me more to stop, get stiff, and start than to just go and eat on the road. My base training from Solvang carried over to Davis. I learned that during the past couple of months, my mind was playing more games than my body was hurting: it was/is more a mental game to commit. Once I could relax (with massage, ART therapy, and mental resolve) and then spin rather than press, the riding was easy and the spirit fulfilled.

The Camaron Burrito in Vacaville hit the spot after a hard but satisfying day in the saddle.

Davis Double Statistics

• May 15, 2010
• Distance = 201 miles
• Ride Time = 11:15 Total Time = 12:17
• Elevation Gain/Lost = 8,425 feet
• Average Speed = 17.9 mph Maximum = 49.8 mph
• Average Heart Rate = 140 bpm Maximum = 163 bpm
• Average Power = 156 watts Maximum = 737 watts
• Average Cadence = 90 rpm
• Start Temp = 48.2 degrees at 5:32 am Max = 98.6

WILDFLOWER LONG COURSE

Half Ironman (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13 mile run)

May 1, 2010 Lake San Antonio, CA

By Kim Schaefer

2010 got off to a rocky start, with January and February consisting of (besides buckets of rain! And cold!), getting past having the metal pin taken out of my tibia in December, unexpected dental work, including a tooth pulled, and not one, but two colds (thank you Noah)! Struggling to regroup during March and April was tough, as our wet and cold weather continued…

Now, mind you, this is going to be a looooong year, with Barb’s Race at the end of July and the Big One, Ironman Florida alllll the way in November, so I know will be a price to be paid for getting too excited too soon into the year. But I was nervous, anxiety-ridden, even, going into Wildflower. Kona last October was pretty much a once in a lifetime experiment in calculated stupidity, and finishing was absolutely the ONLY goal. Which, on some small level, was a little demoralizing, after finally feeling the least bit competitive with anyone other than myself in 2008. Don’t get me wrong, I savored every minute of it. It was just weird in that way. Wildflower was going to be the test of truth….how much was actually lost last year, strength and speed wise? Would I ever be able to “race”, even in the loose sense I use that word? Only the clock would tell…..and it wasn’t gonna lie.

Having an 85 cat Tri-Valley Fix our Ferals clinic the weekend before was both good and bad. Added stress, yes, but also a place to channel all that ridiculous energy of taper week; there are 85 fewer breeding cats in the world AND my CD’s are alphabetized! Excellent! Taper week was tough this go around. Turned out none of my friends were able to make it to the race this year, so we decided to turn it into a camping adventure and Dan and Noah would accompany me. Knowing the logistics of Wildflower, we reluctantly decided to leave Lance at Club K-9 in an attempt to all make it home alive, unharmed and still married. So Friday, after the traditional pre-race brick workout and tucking in the masses of animals for a 2 day stint of self-management, we picked Noah up from preschool and headed out. We arrived about 5pm, and the campground was looking pretty full. We found a bitty spot right next to where I had camped with Lori and Ray 2 years ago, and set up camp. Beggars can’t be choosers, so our site had a definite, shall we say, “slope” towards the lake, and Dan tried to do some relandscaping to prevent any of us from taking an unscheduled swim. The best part for Noah (and ultimately for us) was that there was a kids play structure about 500 feet from our site. The best part for me was a bathroom at about the same distance. Tents were pupped and off we headed to registration/check in. Bike set up, clothes and transition bags set out and off to bed….

Knowing the Wildflower madness I was at the shuttle boat launch with my bike and bags 2 full hours before my start wave. Good move. Set up my transition area and had lots of leisure time to stretch and listen to my Ipod and contemplate the port o potties before squeezing myself into that wetsuit. Being old now, and a girl, my start wave was the very last one before the Relays—9:25 am. The water was cold when we got in, but not troublesome once the horn went off and we were into the open water. My swim is…well, my swim. I survive it as best as I can and hope against hope to balance bettering my last time with having enough energy to do the rest of the race. Did my darndest…my swim has been the bain of my existence as of late—turned in a time of 48 minutes and change (5 minutes slower than my 2008 time—what are ya gonna do?). Ran up the ramp, saw Dan and Noah, had a very good T1 (faster than 2008) and onto the bike. That Lynch hill right out of the gate is simply an insult to all things good and right in the world. And before you get there, you have to navigate, no!, survive, getting around all the people heading onto the mountain bike course. Made it onto the top of Lynch hill and off we went. The bike course was, and this is my favorite way for it to be: fairly uneventful. Worried that I have had no barometer of my returning (or not returning—you be the judge) cycling strength/speed, I just wanted to keep steady, stay absolutely focused throughout, and give it what I felt to be my 100% while not trashing myself. Some sort of karmic balance between pushing and spinning (thank you computrainer for your faithfulness and tempo workout feedback these last months!). One bathroom stop—darn aging process!—2 minutes lost—I TIMED my bathroom stop as I STILL can’t pee on the bike! And it’s just not something you want to, well…practice. Being in the last wave, and being a really BAD swimmer and relatively strong cyclist, I had LOTS of people to pass. And pass them I did, which was the first time THAT had happened in awhile (like about 18 months, to be exact) and I started feeling like a rockstar with the ensuing optimism. Time: 3.26.28. 2008….3.18.19. I’ll take it! As will I take a faster T2, by 6 whole seconds, thank you very much.

And now for the test of truth…the “run”. I didn’t really have a plan, per se, for the run, beyond eating a gu every 3 miles. My usual best case scenario/personal rule is run as much as you can, but any time you have a paper cup in your hand you are allowed to walk. So I headed out in my newfound shuffle-pace and thought I’d just see what happened. Pretty soon my obsessive thought pattern turned to the last year…more specifically how much WALKING I had had to do in the past year. I had to train for the whole flipping Kona Ironman marathon at a walk….on a flat bike trail….in Danville…in the summer. I decided that I never, ever wanted to walk again as long as I could run, and by mile 2 I decided as long as I was alive and breathing, I’d be running. By the massive hill about mile 4, I kept thinking about the first doctor I saw after breaking my leg who told me I’d never run again. Well, then I HAD to keep running. Mind you, my run was little more or less like a jog at best, but I kept it going….with or without the paper cup!! At WILDFLOWER! Toughest half run I know of. I just kept plodding along, thinking I was just happy not to be walking….like the at least 3 MEN I passed by---with M-DOT TATOOS ON THEIR CALVES!!! HA! Take THAT ya stupid horse, and you, even stupider doctor! Not knowing what to expect from this race at all, I knew deep down in my overtaxed heart that I’d be thrilled with anything under 7 hours. My 2008 time was 6.41.54. I always wished to beat it, but I was realistic. I saw the magic time come and go…but I was about half a mile away from the finish. I mean that in an “ONLY” half a mile kind of way! I was indeed going to make it in under 7 hours: 6.50.06 to be exact! As I ran down the finish chute, so thrilled with myself, about 500 feet from the finish line, Dan heaved Noah under the snow fence barrier like a torpedo and he scooted out, took my hand and ran to the finish line with me. It was indeed a very sweet victory, personally. I checked my actual times on the website Monday morning to write up my race report and looked at my run splits. 2.26.45 on Sunday. 2008: 2.32.44. Oh, my gosh, I’m the six million dollar woman! Is it possible that they put it back together STRONGER and FASTER?!?!? I have to go send another thank you note to my orthopedic surgeon now.

Solvang Double 2010 - A View from My Ride

Being my first true fore into ultra distance cycling, I was a bit nervous about what to expect and how my body would react. I based my training preparation loosely on ultra run training and on last year’s Death Ride with 3 week building blocks and one week of rest/testing beginning in late December. As a final preparation, I rode solo from Arnold to home (~150 miles) two weeks before the event and then tapered the final two weeks.

Arriving in Solvang brought back memories of Kim and my ride about ten years ago when they had both a century and double century ride on the same day. We left on the century ride in the rain, got lost, and decided to skip the event and visit Solvang (we did the ride the next day unsupported in beautiful spring conditions).
In the predawn morning bicycle headlamps greeted me as I drove to get Kim coffee at 5:45. I had debated on when to start and had planned on 12 hours so that I could leave near daybreak and be back around sunset. The second dilemma was whether to start with the 7:30 timed mass start or go at my own. After check-in I thought it better to go at my own pack for my first double attempt.

Daybreak’s 37-degree temperature reading left me happy (for the moment) that I wore my knee warmers, arm warmers, wind vest, light gloves, and disposable toe and hand warmers. As a new found ‘friend’ and I climbed out of the valley, the temperature warmed and the winds began to pick up. Near the top of the first climb we passed the first tandem of the day, which promptly flew past us on the down-hill which I chased for a good half mile before being caught in their draft. 10-miles later we hit the first aide station and stayed behind the tandem for the next 10-miles soft pedaling at 25 mph until the road went uphill in the southern approach to San Luis Obispo. At this point the 7:30 pack (now 25 strong) flew past in an echelon taking the entire travel lane. My ‘friend’ and I jumped onto the tail end of the train. After about one mile, I knew that the pace was too hard for me and that my heart rate was exceeding my goal of keeping it below 150 bpm. Goodbye ‘friend.’

In SLO with the temperature rising towards 80, I shed all of the extra clothing which I now had to carry for the next 120 miles. I was being to feel tightness in my legs so I immediately began taking electrolyte (salt tabs/ecaps) in mass. It was fun to ride through my old college town (now wishing I had rode much more while I was there) and head out towards the rock at Morro Bay, taking pulls with the dropped riders from the pack into southwesterly crosswinds. Morro Bay was crowded with sunbathers and sightseers enjoying a summer like day at the first of spring which caused a bit of havoc with the cyclists. Once through we headed south down highway 1 to the other beach communities and coastal flatlands.

Around mile 160, I truly started feeling the effects of riding long distance. The temperature had risen to close to 90 degrees, my legs begin the cramping reflexes (needed more ecaps), I was tired of everything liquid (hammer gel and hammer sustain), and, worst of all, my feet had swelled leaving the tips of my toes raw. Plus the truly flatness of the ride (saw one guy attempting it on a single speed fixie) was daunting. But the last rest stop at mile 175 came as a relief. While the 8 person group I was in stopped and rested, I downed a coke and keep going knowing that a climb was just ahead.

Kim and I had done the climb ten years previous so I knew it was a little steep with poor pavement but very ride-able. The 1,000 of climbing felt refreshing relative to the prior 100 mile flatness. Over the summit, the sun was just being to cast the longer shadows. I noticed the wildflowers that were everywhere for the first time of the day. The decent was fast and easy along with the tailwind back into Bulleton. We arrived at the hotel to a cheer from the bar patrons and an attaboy from the staff (‘Why didn’t you start at 7:30 and get timed?’).

Overall, for me it comes down to mastering the mind game, centering the body, and feeding the soul. It’s why I love endurance events. I’m looking forward to the next one. Anyone want to join?

Solvang Double Statistics:

• 193 miles
• 7200 feet vertical climbing
• Weather 37 to 88, clear and breezy
• Total ride time: 10 hours 15 minutes
• Total elapsed time: 11 hours 10 minutes
• Ave speed 18.7 mph; Max 43 mph
• Ave power 156 watts; Max 627 watts
• Ave cadence 91 rpm
• Ave heart rate 142 bpm; Max 166 bpm

Post Ride Ride from Bulleton to Solvang

Hawaii Ironman Race Report

Kona, HI

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Kim Schaefer

I realized a week or so ago, that I had put so much into this race and my focus was so narrowed into it for the last six months, that it was almost as if I didn’t think the sun would indeed rise again on Sunday, October 11^th, but it is, in fact, just about to do that. I am so proud to say, for the sixth time, that “I…am….an….Ironman!” (or woman, or whatever…). What a day to remember for the rest of my life. Where to even begin?

My alarm went off at 4:00am and I got up, did some stretching, and sat outside on the deck thinking good thoughts while eating my oatmeal. I was nervous, but mostly just anxious to FINALLY get this thing STARTED! Months of waiting, and now it was only a couple of hours away. I kissed Noah goodbye; he was still asleep and mumbled, “I love you”, and rolled back over. Repeated the procedure with Dan, and left to go wait for the shuttle bus on Ali’I Drive. The shuttle bus was GREAT, as Dan and Noah could sleep in and all the better because then Dan wouldn’t have to drag a four year old down to the transition/start area circus at 5:00am. It got me straight to the start where there was plenty to do and navigate in the next 2 hours. Bodymarking…again, surreal….everything about this race looks “just like it does on tv!” which is weird to say about anything you are about to take part in. Then to the bikes to pump tires, attach bento box and bottles, and do last minute checks. It was a SEA of bikes, as always, racked by number and I had a good spot near an end. Lots of volunteers (they said later it took 5,000 volunteers to staff this race of 1,700 athletes…excellent service!) and I flagged down the first one with a pump. This is where it gets crazy. This guy looked vaguely familiar and while he was pumping my tires I mentioned that he looked too fit not to be racing that day. He started telling me his story, how he was turning 50 that year…and he was doing 50 endurance events…and he was raising money but didn’t raise enough to do IM Hawaii….good grief, it was John Jayha! Whom I met at Dr. Elkind’s office when I was still on my crutches and who had told me about his 50 events in a year plan…I had been thinking about him and his crazy plan ever since. And here he was, in Kona, come all this way to pump my tires! What a wonderful freak encounter. It was definitely a pick me up. Then another volunteer came over and said, “Leo Montero wishes you good luck”. My friend Leo and his family had been one of the few of my tri friends who knew I was going to be there; he actually knew a couple of days before I did, as they listed the lottery winner names on tv after some triathlon race coverage two days before they let us know via email. Leo and I had been emailing back and forth throughout the six months, and he had been so wonderfully supportive; he was so excited for me. This volunteer turned out to be a good friend of Leo’s, and Leo had given him my race number so he could come find me. He took pictures on his camera-phone and instant messaged them to the information-starved Montero family back at home.

All too soon it was time to go down and get staged for the swim start. Talk about a completely surreal, out of body experience!! I saw Karen Smyers talking to a friend on the way in; she said she was on the bench due to a foot injury. She is amazing. We headed into the water to wait and the cannon went off at 6:45 for the pros, so the rest of the semi-mortals wouldn’t get in their way. I took my usual spot…waaaaaay back and to the left. And at 7:00 our cannon went off. It was a one loop swim course and it seemed like it was FOREVER to the turnaround. I hadn’t been especially worried about the swim, as my swim is almost as surely inevitable as death and taxes—1:45, give or take 10 minutes. But when I got to the turnaround and saw an hour had passed, I thought maybe I should have been a little more worried! And now most of those feet I was following were disappearing, so I knew I better get a move on. I was having a few issues I hadn’t given much thought to, realizing quickly that it had been a while since I’d swam in salt water. For starters, it felt like the salt was burning my sinuses and subsequently my brain (ouch). Secondly….itty bitty jellyfish at the turn around…enough said. Three…no wetsuit (water too warm for them to be legal). But mostly…my goggles were starting to leak (Seal Mask) and the salt water was really irritating. I had to take them off twice to clear them in the last mile. After the last couple of bouys, the lifeguards on surfboards started escorting me in, always demoralizing, but helpful in this instance, as I was just at the two hour mark and my eyes were becoming an increasing problem. As I exited the water and took my goggles off, I could FEEL my eye area….and human eyes should NEVER have a topography consistent with what I was feeling. There were no mirrors around, but I could almost see my own eyebrows! And from what I could feel, I knew I must resemble either a pug, or one of those fish with the bubble-eyes. As for my vision, I could only see out of the tiniest slits. As I hit the change tent, I ran up to the first medical guy at the door and asked him, “What is UP with my EYES?!?!?” He looked at me and yelled, “Medical!”. I sat down in one of the chairs as one volunteer started to get my socks and cycling shoes on, a nice woman doctor came over, said, “oh, wow, you’ve had some kind of reaction to the salt water!”, took a picture for Ironman Medical posterity, and gave me some sort of steroid drops in my eyes. Despite all the rushing, my first transition took just under ten minutes. I could still hardly see, but the doctor assured me it would get better, and it did a couple of hours into the ride. I had to laugh a little to myself, as Mary, my Pilates P.T. had given me a little metal Milagro good luck charm in the shape of an eye which I had pinned to my race suit—good thing I brought a spare!

The bike leg was somewhat uneventful, which is exactly what I was hoping for. The pavement was pristine, almost like glass. And all that hot weather training, giving Dan the first “ride-shift” of the day all ple of spots could I feel the baking oven thing, but never long enough for it to really worry about. My tried and true eating plan worked wonderfully. Taking into account that I just can’t process the volume I could 8 or 10 years ago, I used the Clif kid-bars and Clif Nectar bars on the hour and gu's on the half hour, switching off water and cytomax. At about mile 35 I was the Timex car with the big clock/stopwatch on top and heard the media helicopters which meant the race leaders were on their way back from the turnaround (don’t do the math, it will only depress you). I couldn’t tell who the men’s leader was but that did not diminish the utterly sheer COOLNESS of the entire situation. Not long after that, Chrissie Wellington came flying by, clearly dominating the women’s field. Just amazing. Very much like when Dan and I went to the Tour De France it is such a different perspective on the people and an event you kind of thought you had a grasp of. The people who excel at these events are freaks, pure and simple.

The wind started picking up about 5 miles from the turnaround at Hawi and was pretty intense for a stretch, but thankfully turned into a tailwind on the way back. The wind wasn’t too big a problem until about the last 20 miles, as it was getting later in the afternoon and it was definitely picking up. I was so pleased when I could do the math at that point and know I was going to have roughly an hour cushion on the run (can I call it that?), after months of worrying about the cutoff time. And no flats or mechanicals—hallelujah!

On to the “run” by 4:30. I started doing my finely-honed 15 minute mile clip and was right on it, even gaining a little time by mile four. So I commenced with my plan, just as I had done in training—starting with 12 minute walk/3 minute jog for an hour, an hour of 11 minute walk/4 minute jog, and then to 10 minute walk/5 minute jog. Running felt good and at least broke up the monotony, but training had taught me anything over 5 minutes at a time was going to be not so good at that distance, so I put a tight leash on myself. About mile 5 I saw Dan and Noah on Ali’I Drive and Noah was SO excited. He came running up with his new little camera Dan bought him for the trip, and which he has been obsessed with. On the way back from the first turnaround, he was even more excited, and ran a little ways with me; he thought everyone was cheering for him. Not every kid can go to show and tell next week and say they ran in the Hawaii Ironman. I stopped just long enough for someone to take our picture (worth it). Off Dan and Noah went to entertain themselves at the pool for the next four to five hours, while I went for my little walk. Next up was “Pay and Save” Hill along Palani Road and off for the long march in freakish darkness to the Natural Energy Lab. There were aid stations every mile, many with music. I employed my tried and true cola-soup-solids-gel switchoff. There was a very cool Hawaiin guy doing this fire torch thing at the energy lab in the dark. And I must say, I was more than happy to be doing the run leg in the dark, rather than baking sun. At mile 24 you could HEAR the finish line, the crowd and the announcer and KNEW you were almost home. I could NOT stop smiling most of the day, but especially then. Like at every Ironman I’ve ever done, the later you go, the more drunk spectators there are, which is always very comical to me. Coming down Ali’I Drive was just as magical as everyone says. There was a very bright light over the finish chute and I headed for it, picking up my run a few hundred yards from the line. I still cannot believe it, but in an UNFORGETTABLE show of clumsiness, I caught my foot on the finish line mat, and went FLYING, spread-eagle, onto my face, just at the finish line! Who DOES that?!?!? I picked myself up just in time for Chrissie Wellington to place a flower lei over my head and give me a kiss on the cheek! A seriously unforgettable moment. I later learned she had shattered Paula-Newby Fraser’s course record. Chrissie….under 9 hours…me….15 hours 41 minutes and change. They had a great system set up of family-passes at the finish line so Dan and Noah found me minutes later, and escorted me (along with the requisite 2 medical people) to the medal podium/photographers. Noah even got to put my medal over my head. Due to my walking-status, I was even able to walk back to the car of my own accord !

I still can’t believe I’ve lived a dream….I am ready for some serious fun. The only lingering question I have from my week as a rock star is: What is UP with this compression sock craze?????