“Arkadelphia’s hills? They
are no steeper than an overpass. Just a little bit longer. And you’ve only
really got 2 hills to contend with.” That
was the last thing Terry Butts told me before I headed out to race. That,
and he told me not to wear a watch. Just race by feel. Uh, hello. I’m an
engineer. I like numbers, I need numbers.
The more useless information, the better.
So off I went with my Guatemalan sidekick, Axel “El Martillo
Guatemalteco” Vasquez, to the Arkadelphia half Ironman.
Funny thing is that every time I told someone that I was gonna race
there, they gave me this funny look, like I had something in my teeth. Maybe
I did, but it still worried me that the reaction to this Arkadelphia
decision by people who had done the race in the past wasn’t as favorable
as I would’ve hoped. We arrived in Arkadelphia about
The first thing that I noticed
about this race was how low key and easy going it was. There was no
ridiculously loud techno music playing, and no horrible long lines to
nowhere. There were just a bunch
of people who looked way too fast signing in. After we registered, Axel and
I decided it was time to refuel. We
drove down
Axel and I loaded up the gear (THANKS MOTEL 6 for not letting us check out late) and headed out to the course. Oh, did I mention it was cold. Not 78 degrees cold, but “I need a fleece or I’m gonna be cutting glass” cold. At the race site, the atmosphere was really cool and low key. The volunteers did a superb job of keeping things moving smoothly. After going through my pre-race routine, it was down to the water for the start. This was the first race I’ve ever done where the water is noticeably cooler than the air temperature. So I jumped in the water, and the fun began.
The swim was a big rectangle
around a little island. My plan
was to get some semblance of a rhythm, and find some feet to follow.
My plan was not to swim like a drunken sea lion, going to and fro
from buoy to buoy. Well,
everything went well, until the second half of the swim.
I did my sea lion routine several times, and was just glad to get out
of there. In retrospect, I blame
it on the water. It’s too
weird swimming in water you can actually see further than your nose in.
While the pureed mud we swim in at
I figured that the 39-25 gear ratio wouldn’t get used until we got to the big daddy hills. WRONG! That gear came in handy a whopping .1 miles into the race. At this moment, I thought it was going to be a long day. To be honest, most of the bike was a blur. It’s not very often where you can go from 35mph to 7mph in like .6 miles. After repeatedly getting passed by women older than my mom, I got it together and started feeling a little better. Then, out of nowhere, there he was. My rabbit came by me, and something in my head told me to not let him out of my sight. Ignore the pain, and just focus on keeping him in sight. That worked until about mile 43 or so. Then I thought I felt the inevitable coming on. The first thought was I went too hard on the bike. Man, everything hurts. Oh yeah, and with the out and back bike course, it means the hills that were so fun on the way out, are gonna be super sweet for the last 10 miles. Once again, Lisa, thanks for that 12-25 cassette. During the last 7 or 8 miles, I started thinking about my nutrition. I only had my 3 Ultra Fuel bottles, and a flask and a half of Hammer gel. Did I take enough? I guess we’d find out soon enough. Coming down the hill, and into transition (squealing brakes and all), I wondered what the run had in store for me.
The run’s first mile was, surprise, up a hill that was about a mile long. Then you took a right for a half mile, came back down the same road, and headed into the park. It was at this turnaround that I saw about 10 wicked fast looking guys that I thought were around my age blazing down the run course. Right then, I knew that it was a matter of time before they crushed me like a Tee Baller trying to take batting practice with the big boys. I convinced myself that it was cool, because I promised my friends and family that I would finish this, and it was my day. Some fleet footed racer who lives at altitude couldn’t take that away from me. I told myself just to stay steady, and focus on staying in control. I could feel the cramps coming on in the teardrop of my legs, and I decided to push it at a pace that would be as fast as possible without causing cramps. After the first loop, they gave me a pink scrunchie. Pink? Come on dude, everyone knows my color is orange. Work with me here. So, it was back up the hill for the second lap. I was a little confused because I never saw those wicked fast guys come past me on the first lap. When I hit the out and back, I saw one of them walking, and another kind of dropping off his pace from the first lap. I told myself to ignore them, and keep pushing the envelope. Stay steady and in control until I came out of the little park. That was about the mark where it would be 2 miles to go. That is where I would attack the course. Note, I use the word attack very loosely. I pushed it as hard as I could, and figured I would finish strong. Down the hill for the last time, and I was sure to thank the old man who was so encouraging at the beginning of the run, and thank the guy who gave me the pink scrunchie. I rounded the curve to the finish, with no idea of what was in store for me. All I knew is that I felt in control all day, and mentally strong except for the first 10 miles of the bike. And then I saw it. Finally a clock!
Thanks for reading.