A Race That I Deserve (Part 2)

I climbed up the stairs to Transition 1 heart leaping with joy. At that moment, my worries vanished and all I felt I was pure, unadulterated joy. I was so pleased with myself I did not notice I lingered in transition one for 5 precious minutes! My usual T1 time would be under 2 minutes, but I took a mental note to spend time eating and drinking at transition instead of slowing down and worrying about it during bike time. I was aware of the daunting task of hill climbing up ahead. I was prepared for that, but not the pleasant shock of doing better than expected on my swim. On hindsight may be I could have spent just 3 minutes in transition (nutrition and hydration included). But overall my transition time was time well spent. I wanted to savor that one shiny moment.

I subsisted on cheers of friends to allay whatever apprehensions I have on the bike. Of the three disciplines, running is actually my weakest, but I fear biking the most. I am not afraid to have scratches, but I do not want broken limbs and God forbid, bike-induced disability or death. That my sense of balance was forever affected by a swim-induced middle ear infection in the past does not help.  But thanks to Subit and my cycling buddies I slowly conquered my fear and handicap. In preparation for the race I ventured out of residential villages and Mall of Asia onto the roads of C6, Daang Hari and the treacherous roads to and from Ocean Adventure in Subic. Slowly I was getting used to riders ahead or behind me, and vehicles passing by me.

I left transition one on my bike, smiling for a photo op courtesy of friend Jan. I was also armed with conviction that despite the trials of the week, all was well and that I had prepared well. My God would take care of me.

 

                                      Out of Transition (photo by Jan Blando)

What Comes Up...

I knew the first 7kms will be mostly uphill. I knew there’s a part there consisting of almost 3 kilometers of straight climb. The first time I did that I was spinning up at lowest gear and speed of 8-9kph. I wished then I could go lower in gear and faster in speed, but that was it. Friend Erick advised me to just comfortably spin and I am forever grateful for that tip. On my second recon, I managed to spin up that same climb at 9-10kph, small improvement but I took what I could take. On the actual race, I adopted the same strategy of spinning up, with that mental image of my hips, thighs and legs acting as set of two coherent pistons slowly but economically chugging to the top. I smiled when I saw my cyclometer reading of 10-11kph on the same climb. Heck, at one point I even reached 14kph! Well what do you know! Yeah, slowly but surely I was improving. Best part was that while I may have panted a little climbing up, the limbs were still relatively fresh. I was saving those limbs for the run. The spectacular forest view was a bonus.

If there was another thing I hope to improve on my biking skills, it was to have just the right dose of assertion if not aggression. I have long abandoned the concept of competing with others and trying to pass or catch up with others. I only compete with the standards I set for myself. But it’s another thing to simply let others pass by when I know I could actually do better. Once or twice during the climb I let another biker go ahead of me, only to be forced to trail behind him and follow his slower speed because I was hesitant to overtake. At the bike turnaround I even let the rider behind me go ahead and make the turn first! I should get an award for generosity, sportsmanship or maybe stupidity! Haha. But I promised to work on the roots of this hesitation:  fear that I would get sideswept as I try to overtake, uneasiness in doing turns, and my still evolving idea of the ethics of overtaking and being overtaken.

...Must Go Down

Then came the downhills. Ah, the downhills. I attacked them still with caution, but the recon we made definitely shored up my confidence. In those downhill rushes, I managed a few times to max the gears and pedaled to go faster. With hands firm but relaxed-as-I-could-be on the handle bar, I leaned forward, made myself as aerodynamic as possible, and let go. I surrendered to gravity, my training and steadfast belief that my God would protect me. My cyclometer which I avoided at downhills would later tell me that I reached a career high of 59.9 kph at some point. I must admit I was still afraid in parts, but I was glad to have actually enjoyed the downhill rush in certain parts. In the years to come I hope to enjoy the bike leg as much I enjoyed the swim in this year’s edition.

But the downhills are not without its downside. On my way back there was yet another long, continuous, curved downhill where I spotted a participant seated on the ground beside his bike. Two bystanders seemed to be checking on him who seemed dazed or maybe momentarily shocked by what appeared to be a fall. It was a sharp curve and a fast fall – too fast that even though I wanted to check on him I was simply going down too fast to safely stop. I hope he was alright.

When I made past the 90-degree downhill curve leading to Airport and away from Dungaree, I knew the treacherous downhills were over. First thought that came to mind was: maybe this time I could safely overtake. Maybe this time I could reap the fruits of holding back a little during the hills and patiently spinning up those climbs.  I surveyed the bikers ahead of me. Uh-oh, they were already few. Have I been so conservative?  Coming from the Ocean Adventure turnaround I was overtaken by 2 bikers. Could I overtake at least 2 bikers on the second half – while sticking to my strategy of comfortably hard ride?

The Long Chase

My first target was to finally overtake the guy whom I kindly or stupidly allowed to make the turnaround before me. Nice fella actually but I think it’s time I took the lead. Prior to downhills I even had to slow a bit so this guy could take the plunge first and I could enjoy the downhills by myself. Safety first for me before ranking. Comfortably spin and mind my cadence and soon enough I would naturally overtake. And I did. I did the same with 2-3 more bikers. Soon enough I saw a friend and batchmate from dragonboat rowing and underwater hockey years ago. I believe the hills took some wind and leg power from him.  With smiles and cheers of “Go, Go, Go”, I passed him. After him there seemed to be a chasm. Uh-oh, where are the rest?

The others I saw after the second turnaround at Asian Auctioneers. Heck, the faster ones are already at km 35 or so and I was just at about km 27. Spin, spin, spin I did again, lured by the speed of the faster cyclists but held back by the thought I still had kilometers more to go. Do not be tempted to speed up by taking so high a gear. Stick to the comfortably hard gear. Be patient. I had my new aero bars on, but since I lacked practice on them, I used it just for one or two stretches where the road was really flat, wide and almost vacant. At that time I was averaging on handlebars around 28kph, which I could have raised to 30kph, but I was so worried about the run. I tried doing instantaneous cost-benefit analysis of gearing up versus saving up, but in the end my desire to have a reasonably good run prevailed. I really wanted to run the last leg. Cramps are abomination for me.

                                     At about km 30 going to Waterfront 

                                                      Photo by Pio Sugay

I passed by the spectator-decked Waterfront almost by my lonesome. Heck, where were the others? I drew in the cheers and the energy of the crowd, but I really wanted to find the others and be part of the race again. I saw them only after the final turnaround at Asian Auctioneers. At that point I also saw a couple of riders just coming from the Dungaree part. Great, I was still part of the race and was far from the last. Spin, spin, spin I did again, until I finally caught up with another friend from the early wave. The hills also made him suffer.  I learned later from results that there were many other riders after me. I might have been too safe and conservative, but I did not do so bad after all. To have survived the hills without incident, even managing to actually have fun riding the downhills at certain moments was reward enough. No flat, no brake failure, no broken chain, no skips in gearing, no incidents. Thank God! My come from behind catch-up on the second half was just a bonus of my patient strategy.

 

       On the ramp, off to run

    Photo by Carina Manansala

Finally I was running. Now I could ask myself if my strategy of holding back in the bike will pay off in the run. I saw some fast runners - that was a good sign unless they were already in their last round. I was in good spirits and good condition - the legs were very far from cramping, a little tired but not heavy. I was surprised I could actually run the moment I got off the transition ramp. So far so good.

 Photo by Gerard Cinco

I was running slow but steady. I was hoping to run at 7min/km average pace - good enough pace for a standard triathlon considering my 10K personal best is just 1:06. Unfortunately my 14 month old Garmin seemed to be nearing its end-life and died on me even before I biked. I played it by ear. Ran comfortably hard, trying to be conscious of form and heart rate. 

Glad to know I was neither the last biker nor last runner

Photo by Migs Castro

I was doing okay until my my third round. I felt the difficulty of the run after that round. It was not a wall that I suddenly bumped into. It was a slow struggle to win over fatigue. Yes, fatigue was finally seeping into me.  It was very similar to the feeling I had running the last 5kms of my  first marathon. I tried to analyze what it was and what caused it. I was not cramping. I was well-hydrated, maybe even a little overhydrated in an effort to fight the heat. But I was used to the heat. My late training starts always caused me to involuntary heat train, till noontime heat at times. I almost finished my second, big, Clif Brownie Bar. Should I have eaten more?  The way I always eat a lot during training? Should I have brought the hopia I always eat during marathons? Maybe. Maybe I should have run longer and more frequently during training, instead of heavily favoring the bike practice? Maybe. Did the physical and mental stress of the recent week finally catch up with me? Maybe. Ah, lots of theories to test during future training.

I did overtake a couple of runners. Despite the creeping fatigue, I managed a 200-meter dash to the finish. Finished strong and smiiling. Thanks to constant cheers from friend Ellen and the merry group of takbo.ph at the finish line. You guys are a wonderful bunch of people. 

Sprint to the finish line, Stop watch, then Smile =)

No, that was not my time.

Photo by Pio Sugay

But here are some things I do know:

• I finished 290th out of 318 finishers. Not bad for someone whose initial goal was simply to finish this training race.
• I outswam 54 triathletes and had a splendid time in that lovely bay.
• With my conservative bike strategy, I still managed to outbike 17 people.
• Except for water breaks, I ran all 10kms of the last leg. I outran 45 participants - with a run deviation from personal best of only 10 minutes.
• I may have not achieved the best case scenario of 3:30, but my 3:41:89 is just seconds away from Gelo Arellano's 2009 time  which I appropriated for myself as some sort of benchmark.
• I initially thought I had been too conservative. But my immediate post-race heart rate and spent feeling akin to finishing a marathon told me I gave it all that I've got.
• I came out more confident for Camsur, secure in the thought that slow the improvements may be, they do manifest themselves. I leave this race enriched with more intimate knowledge of what my body could do and knowing specific areas I could actually test and work on.
• I thoroughly enjoyed the race, and would fondly remember the fun recons we had.
• The support and cheers of friends - how do you put a price tag on that?

I got a race experience that I deserved - nothing more, nothing less. 

For that I thank God, family and friends. I look forward to doing this again - fitter and wiser next time, and in company of greater number of triathlete friends and supporters.

A Race That I Deserve (Part 1)

Olympic Virgin in One Big Party

When I decided to do Subit, all I had in mind was to do the Olympic standard distance triathlon preparatory to Camsur Half-Ironman. I knew Subit was the longest running triathlon event in the country, and I had heard a couple of good feedbacks, but I never realized that my supposed training race was THAT big.

I only appreciated the magnitude of the race when I first set to do route recon on March 27-28 and April 24-25 with a couple of friends. Our merry group of nervous newbies were clearly there to befriend the open waters and steep hills of Subic. But why were members of established teams also there? We spotted the familiar colors of Polo Tri, Sunkist, Fitness First, Tri-Clark, Herbalife, etc. Clearly, everyone  - not just us newbies – were prepping for a race that I would later realize was used as some sort of ranking among local triathletes or teams.

Me? I just wanted to survive this race – specifically those curved downhills where I knew other athletes have fallen in the past. I could endure those long uphills, but those downhills I could only manage with some practice and tons of prayers. During breaks and downtimes our group would huddle and examine not only the route but also the splits of last year’s race. Just how do we compare to the 2009 finishers? I saw Fernando Zobel's time and holy cow, if he did 1:45 on bike and 1:03 on run, what about me!? Curiously, Maricar Reyes – feminine and frail-looking she may be – had a decent time (2:37:06). From my recollection of seeing her before in the gym and Nike Running Clinics, I deduced she is one feisty and fit lady underneath that pretty, delicate appearance. Me – I had weathered BLC 1 & 2, but I still needed BLC 3 and 4 to be in better fighting form. I glanced at the last page of the finishers and searched for some finish time or someone I could reasonably benchmark this fat Olympic virgin. I do not know and could not spot Gelo Arellano in a crowd, but I knew enough he is Drew’s older brother and I knew myself enough that his time seemed doable for me (swim 38:17, bike 1:53, run 1:10 for a total of 3:41:33). My realistic goal was to swim within 40 minutes, finish the bike leg with legs fresh enough to run (hopefully within the neighborhood of 1hr40min), and never walk nor cramp for all 10k of the run (and do it close to 1:10). Only exception allowed was walking while sipping water in front of aid stations. That last bit was my homage to marathoner Jeff Galloway.

Training Tapers, Pressures Pile Up

                                   Subic April Recon at Dungaree (photos by Zack)

I had my one last training hurrah on April 25, one week before the race. It was an 800-meter swim, 20K easy bike up-and-down the hills, 10K bike cruise down to Subic Boardwalk, and 2.5k easy run loop – all-done in the hot, burning sun. I was obviously fatigued by such effort, but I was not at all sore. Unfortunately, the combination of hot weather outside, cool air-conditioning, training fatigue and viral company of at least 4 triathletes with severe colds/flu-like symptoms took its toll on me. Monday morning after, the moment I felt something odd inside my sinus I remembered the slimy phlegm I saw floating on Dungaree waters and recalled the wheezing of my friends. Urrghhh….Bummer! There I was trying real hard not to overtrain so as to not to get sick, only to get the virus on the crucial taper week. I know from experience it was a nasty virus, but good thing I was healthy enough not to be completely downed by it. It was a cold or flu threatening to run its course but valiantly stopped on its tracks.

Monday was not only fight flu day but also bike check day. Just the day before my front brake locked onto my wheel after I sped through an unseen crack on  my way down to Ocean Adventure. Just coming off a gravity-pulled max speed of 56K about 300m earlier, I luckily managed to uncleat and dismount - safe and unscathed, but scared shitless when my bike suddenly stopped. WTF, I just had my bike thoroughly checked two weeks ago! Monday night I had it checked again in a more reputable shop. I was told the newly installed brake cables were trapped in their housing, my headset had busted bearings, and the new pulleys in my rear derailleurs were actually incompatible!

In the noontime heat I hied off to Cartimar to search for compatible pulleys. The better shop there told me that my replacement pulleys were actually good with its ceramic bearings. It was my bent dropset that was causing skips in my gears. Drenched in sweat in my office garb of long sleeves shirt and tie, and not knowing whom to believe anymore, I asked the mechanic to do just what needed to be done. I shall test ride it myself when I hopefully find time.

Work was not a refuge from bike stress as it was hellweek for me. On April 30 I was supposed to submit a vital document to regulators. With help with senior colleagues, I have been laboring on this document for weeks and my Subit taper week happened to be the work crunch time.

Middle of the week on Wednesday I managed to squeeze in a relaxing swim after a strenuous work day, only to come home to a Pomeranian litter delivered while I was swimming. I would normally watch through the first night whenever there is a new litter, especially for breeds as tiny and delicate as Pomeranians. Mentally drained and physically tired, I reluctantly asked my kennel hands to check on the pups at least once during the night. I woke up next morning to the news that one of the pups managed to slip out of the already narrow grills of the whelping cage and fell one-foot onto the floor. My helper found the poor pup at early dawn. It looked okay before I left Manila on Friday, only to weaken and die before midnight. Sigh.

Thursday night I tried to get home early to test ride my bike at least once. It rained the moment I left our house gate. Not exactly well, I went back and prayed that the last mechanic did well his job.

Friday I submitted the work document, sat through a very important meeting trying my best to recall things and sound intelligent, left the office at lunch, did last minute supplies shopping, and packed my bags for Subic. By 4pm I was off driving to join the traffic rush out of the city. Before dusk while cruising through SCTEX I received message that what was supposed to be a simple hemmorhoid operation for my 73-year old dad had to be postponed to make way for another, more critical, high-risk, expensive disease and procedure. It was hell week indeed and my world was fast crumbling. There goes my tri-bike budget I told my ride buddy as I tried vainly to make light of the situation. That lone female pup that died, it could have fetched a big sum to help defray the medical bills of my dad.

Unsettling Calm

Race day morning (May 2) I was more quiet than usual. Just the previous morning I found myself suddenly and uncontrollaby sobbing inside the bathroom. It must be pressures and myriad of concerns trying to express themselves. I only have one train of thought that moment: God, I am already here in Subic. I trained hard for this. I have been a helpful athlete and a good son. Please give me a race that I deserve.

I snapped out of the doldrums immediately and immersed myself in the spectacle that was Subit. I cheered friends doing the Sprint on Saturday and celebrated their personal victories. But Sunday morning I was back to reality. What I felt was eerie silence - a calm that neither soothes nor relaxes. I did not know if I was worried about my bike, my father, our nascent team. I dunno really. I just remembered drinking litters of water preparatory to the swim and hying off to the deeper part of the waters to unload what I drank.

After a long wait our age group finally hit the waters. I mechanically walked towards the waters and dove only when the water was waist deep. There was physically commotion, but nothing compared to the silent turmoil in my mind. Used to mass starts in our regular wednesday night swims, I was oblivious to the swimming crowd. I got hit in the face causing water to seep a little into my goggles, but I could not care less. It was good that just a week ago I was forced to swim  blindly 750m of the same beach when I left my goggles. God is still good; He prepares me well.

Just like in the past, swimming worked its magic on my troubled mind and body. Eventually I got my rhythm. Long and steady strokes, whoever was ahead, behind or beside me. I used to be timid in the pool, often giving way to others. But that morning I claimed my right to be there. I swam  my pace and raced with myself in that sea of athletes. I have been told about the trench but when I first saw it, what I felt was awe, not fear. Fascination, not trepidation. Gone were the week's woes. It was all green - calm, clear and comfortably cool. I was in my element. I was at peace. Long steady strokes. I haven't had my fill yet when it was time to turn around already.

My swim was two loops of nirvana. Best swim I've had in my short 2-year multi-sports history. As I completed the second round I noticed the swim crowd was thinning. I knew we were the last wave, but had I been left behind in my joyous swim? Eventually I reached the shore. Sweet Jesus I made it in 37 minutes! The best I recorded in the pool was 39 minutes. I was ecstatic, moreso when I saw friends cheering me on as I ran my way to the transition. Go Sheerwill I heard my friends. Thank you, thank you was all I mustered. That and a big smile on my face.

            

      Wow, there are others behind me =)

              Photo by Jonas' wife

   The only thing better than a good swim 
were friends cheering you on. Thanks!

        Photo by Carina