GULFMAN 2006 (4/2/06)
By: Dodd Foreman

There was a  lot of drama surrounding the 2006 Gulfman Half Ironman
distance triathlon.  Thankfully most of the drama started and finished
before the race began.  There was much talk about how the City of Galveston
would not let the race take place.  About two or three weeks before the
race, rights were sold from one race director to another and things started
to take shape.  I must admit that it was a little nerve racking not knowing
whether or not the race would take place but I tried my best to focus on the
big picture, Ironman Wisconsin, and use this race, if it happened, as a
stepping stone.  Having said that, it was my intention to go down and give
it my all.  I wanted my monies’ worth.

Just a short warning.  This race report is long and full of details.  It’s
for the triathlete or aspiring triathlete who wants to know what it’s like
to do a half.  I’ve read just about every race report I can get my hands
on.  They have been a tremendous help to me so I would like to return the
favor this one time.

Before January 2006 I had established what I thought was a somewhat solid
endurance base.  I started structured training, for this race around
1/1/06.  The volume built through March 18.  No big secrets in the
training.  It was pretty much straight forward and very similar to what
much of the guys and gals around here do.  My basic week looked something
like this.

Monday - off or recovery swim or run - half hour
Tuesday - a.m. - spin starting at one hour and later building to 1 ½ hours
in March.
Tuesday - p.m.- weights
Wednesday - a.m. - swim 1 hour, building to 3,000 meters in March.
Wednesday - p.m. - 40 - 50 minute run @ aerobic heart rate.
Thursday - a.m. - spin/run brick starting at 1 hour building to 1 ½ hours
in March.
Thursday - p.m. - weights
Friday - a.m. - swim 1 hour, drills
Friday - p.m. - 40 - 50 minute run @ aerobic heart rate
Saturday - Starting at 2 ½ hour bike or spin usually followed by a 20 or 30
minute run.  Building to a total workout of 4 hours.  Sometimes all bike.
Sometimes bike and run.  Sometimes swim, bike and run.
Sunday - a.m. run starting at 1 ½ hours and building to 2 hours in March @
aerobic heart rate.

There you go.  I did this week for three months.  I would take a break when
I needed, or had too, and ramp it up a little when I felt I could.  But,
basically that is what I did for Jan., Feb., and March.  Would you have to
do this much to complete a half?  I would guess not.  There are plenty of
ways to get there and this way worked for me.  I started to taper down two
weeks before the race.  Twenty percent reduction of volume on the first
week and another 30% on the second.  If nothing else, I was well rested.
No soreness anywhere.

Jody and I headed down to Galveston on Saturday and met Decker and
“Shawee”.  His bike still has “Coon”on it so I’m not sure what to call him.
I think we should start calling him “Diesel” because that’s how he trains
and races, Robert Mitchell.  We met up with Charles and Robert, found a
great Italian restaurant and finished up a three day carbo load session
that had me sick of pop tarts and that’s saying a lot.  Great dinner with
great company.

I started the next morning just like any other race morning.  A little
nervous, a little anxious and a lot excited.  We made our way to the race
site.  The race had split transitions.  T1 was on the bay side of the
highway, North and T2 was on the gulf side of the highway, South.  The
split transitions proved to be no big deal and not much of a hassle at all.

My race plan was simple.  Stay calm and swim easy.  Quick and efficient T1.
Get on the bike and get the heart rate down.  Ride by perceived exertion
but set a heart rate limit of 140.  Shuck the heart rate monitor strap at
T2 and just run by feel.  Nutrition was simple too.  I had three 300
calorie InifiniT bottles on my bike.  I would try to drink them all, giving
me 900 calories on the bike while getting about 60 ounces of water at the
same time.  InfiniT is like a high tech Gatorade.  I had a flask of three
servings of Crank e-gel that I would take on the run and use at each water
stop.  The flask contained 450 calories.

Before too long we were at the water’s edge, sporting our wetsuits,
listening to the race director’s instructions and cracking jokes.  Little
did I know what was about to happen.  I lined up in the front of my wave
figuring, no I can’t swim worth a crap but this is not my first rodeo so
what the hell.  Besides, “look there’s Jody right there.  His toe is on the
proverbial line.”  The horn went off and we were underway.  I don’t know
why and I don’t know how but I was in trouble right away.  My heart rate
was all jacked up and I could not get it down.  I struggled and struggled
and struggled and struggled.  Face down, swim five strokes, breathing every
stroke, blow up, breast stroke, try to catch my breath, face down, swim
five strokes, blow up, breast stroke.... and on, and on, and on, and on.
It was absolutely fricking horrible.  Why was I freaking out?  I don’t know
but I had a real problem here and I had no idea how to fix it.  So, all I
could do was continue in the effort to calm down, catch my breath and keep
moving forward one way or another.

After about 800 meters of this I am realizing may race is now shot.  I’m in
the water having visions of exiting at 45 or 50 minutes and my race plans
being history right from the beginning.  I thought about looking at my
watch but didn’t have the nerve.  At this point I am back with the world’s
worst swimmers, where I obviously belonged, who were intent on crossing
over me every fifteen seconds.  No problem guys, I know how it is.    The
struggle continued.  There was no one to help me solve my problem.  It was
all on me.  It’s a lonely place.  I would roll over on my back and just
kick while trying to compose myself, tugging at my wetsuit to try and let
water in, to loosen it from my chest.  It was unbelievably embarrassing but
the only people watching this fiasco were the life guards on their surf
boards.  I’m sure they were just looking at me and shaking their heads.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, I was able to do ten strokes,
five on one side, come up to a quick breast stroke/sight and continue on.
At about 1,200 meters, I had gained just about all of my faculties and
could swim normal for the first time in the race. I said goodbye to my
bumper car buddies and started making some progress.  Now I’m sighting
every five 5/10 strokes and not breast stroking at all.  Feeling better but
I’m afraid its too little too late.  The last 700 meters were pretty
comfortable, relatively speaking.

I hit the beach, jump up and immediately hit the split button on my watch
in an effort to officially end the horror.  36:08......what?  That can’t be
right.  I did Panama in 38:00 and had no problems like this at all.  Well,
all I can come up with at this point is that the course has to be short.
So, I run to my bike, more like a short step shuffle, rip of my wetsuit,
put on my helmet and shades and get the hell out of there.  Good riddance!

So, now I’m on my bike, really thirsty but feeling pretty good.  I have no
idea how much time I’ve lost on that swim and at this point it’s bothering
me.  But, the task at hand is to get my heart rate down.  I glance at my
watch and see 157.  No problem, it’s going to come down just take it easy
and give it some time.  About every three or four minutes I look at my
watch and my heart rate is falling steadily.  After about five miles I hit
139.  I slowly increased my effort to keep it in my range.  The bike was an
out and back.  Out was into a cross/head wind.  It was pretty much
uneventful until I saw Jody.  I was starting to put the swim horror behind
me and then I see Jody coming back from the turn around.  He yells at me
but I don’t have a suitable reply, sorry Jody, because I am pissed off.
Why?  Because I look down and see 23 miles on my computer.  That means that
the bike is not yet half way done and he is already thirty minutes ahead of
me. ( I know some people say that you shouldn’t get wrapped up in how fast
or slow you are going and how bad your buddy is whipping your ass but I
can’t help it and there is no use trying.)  I knew that my bike was going
well so this just confirmed the assumption that the swim was short and I
need to quit doing triathlons.

But before I can figure out the best way to tell everyone that I’m quitting
triathlons, I see the bike turn around and it’s sooner than I thought.
That means that Jody is not thirty minutes ahead of me and I don’t have to
quit triathlons after all.  Good, because I’m already signed up for another
one.  Later, I learned that other folks thought the swim was pretty
accurate.  Back to the moment.

I’m elated!  The swim is over.  It’s gone.  It’s in the past.  Oh, and now
I have a tail wind.  Is there anything nicer than a tail wind?  Jody and
Charles are ahead of me but only by about fifteen minutes or so.  That
makes a lot more sense to me and I instantly put the ugliness of the swim
behind me.  Suddenly, all things are good.  I look down.  My heart rate is
at 138 and my speed says 22.  No complaints.

Now the mantra starts.  It just popped into my head and wouldn’t leave.
This voice saying over and over again, “believe in your training and
believe in your plan”.  I had trained hard and I had a sound race plan.  I
didn’t just pull it out of the air.  I had researched it and I had
practiced it.  The voice kept repeating, “Believe in it!”  So, I did.

I returned to T2 in what seemed like a flash.  I pulled into transition,
trotted my bike to the rack, swapped the helmet for a cap, grabbed my Gu
flask, changed my shoes and took off.  Some encouraging words from Geoff
Mire, thanks Geoff.

Over a small bridge and out onto the beach, yes the beach.  Like, the Gulf
of Mexico beach.  They were handing out Hammer Gels so I grabbed one.  Why
would I grab a Hammer Gel?  I had a flask full of Gel in my singlet pocket.
I guess because it was free, know what I mean?  Then I realized I had not
taken off my heart rate monitor as planned.  I vowed to run by feel and
perceived exertion.  I never looked at my heart rate again until after the
race was over.

The first three miles of the run were pretty bad.  I could tell that I was
moving slow.  But the mantra was there.  “Believe in your training and
believe in your plan.  Just believe and be patient.”  At about three miles
I started feeling better.  I can’t really figure it out and it doesn’t make
sense to me but there was no doubt, I was feeling better and running
stronger.  I caught a couple of guys that passed me early on and continued
to feel smoother as the run progressed.

Then I see the leader of the race coming back down the beach.  He is
flying.  All I could do was look at this dude and go, “wow”.  Back to my
reality.  I decided that since I was feeling good and running well that I
had the mental capability to count the people until I saw Jody and tell him
what place he was in.  Sure enough after nine more guys I see Jody coming
my way.  I got fired up and I yelled, “You’ve got ten in front of you!  You
hear me?  You’ve got ten in front of you....Go!”  By that time my boy was
hurting and just hanging on.  But, hang on, he did and may have garnered at
top ten finish and or an age group award.  (Results aren’t out yet).

The run down the beach continued.  Water stops were sparse.  When I would
see one coming, I would hit the gel and then wash it down with two or three
cups of water because I had no idea how far to the next water stop.  Soon I
saw Charles Decker.  The unmistakable physique, coming down the beach.  He
said, “Dodd, you are having a good run”.  Charles doesn’t just say stuff
like that.  I promise you, he had figured out that I was having a good run.
Just one sentence from Charles lifted me up another level.  It was the shot
in the arm that I was looking for.  Thanks Charles.  I soon hit the turn
around and started the trek home.

I’m not going to act like the final five miles didn’t hurt.  They hurt.  My
feet hurt.  My calves hurt.  My quads hurt.  My glutes hurt.  My tri’s
hurt.  My bi’s hurt.  My traps hurt.  And last but not least, my neck hurt.
But other than that, I was fine.

At about mile ten there was a final water stop.  I reached for my gel flask
but it was empty.  Then I remembered my free Hammer Gel.  It was cinnamon
and almost made me puke.  But, I got it down.  I pushed as hard as I could
the final two miles and made it in with a smile on my face.  I met up with
Jody, Charles and Robert and reveled in the post race high fives and,
“please give me my medal and t-shirt”, moment.  It was awesome.  Hanging
out with these three guys was great.  They are loads of fun and always
willing to analyze any triathlon subject to death.  I like that.

I have lots more to say about triathlon and life and family but I’ll save
that for another one.  I’ll just sum up with a few lessons learned.  As bad
as it may look, don’t freak out.  It’s a long day and there will be ups
and downs.  I just happened to start out this particular race on a big
down.  You have paid the price to be there so, “Believe in your training
and believe in your plan”.  It’s ok to believe in yourself.