Westword Adventure

It's 3AM Monday morning.  I have 4 hours to be at work and I'm laying reclined in the drivers seat of my truck stuck in Rawlins, Wyoming.  My truck is shaking constantly by the wind, and I could only imagine how bad it would be if the 40 or so semi trucks around me weren't helping shield it.  I had been lying here for an hour now, listing to the suggested weather info radio station, unable to sleep thanks to the coffee I had been drinking since Salt Lake.  This trip had gone full circle, both literally and physically.  It had begun in about the same way.

St John's and Gonzaga warming up

Getting There

I began my marathon (no pun intended) of activity at 4 of the first round games of the NCAA tournament.  They were being held at the Pepsi Center in Denver, on what happened to also be St Patrick's day.  This combo was hard to pass up, even though this would keep me in Denver until at least 10PM on Thursday - the race was Saturday morning.  And thus started  the first event that would start a chain of unplanned adventures in the Southwest. 

It had started to lightly snow when I got out of the arena, and by the time I was heading west on I-70  into the mountains it was a full fledged blizzard.  I had planned to make it as far as possible to break up the drive from Denver to Lake Havasu City, Arizona.  All I could do was fallow the tail lights of the vehicles in front of me.  I made it to Georgetown before they closed the road, and was forced to spend the night only about 30 miles west of Denver.  This would mean I would have to drive the 900 miles the day before the race to make it to the start on time.

Snowed in at Georgetown

I left Georgetown a little after 9AM on Friday.   Driving west I figured the biggest obstacles in my way were potential weather across the two mountain ranges that lay ahead of me, and the Vegas rush hour, oh and cops.  There are plenty of cops on this drive.  I had been on this drive before, it was the last portion of the US interstate system to be completed and offers amazing views of Glenwood Canyon and the Canyon Lands in Utah.  I unfortunately had no time to fully appreciate it.  Look out Havasu, I'm coming for ya.

Lucking out on weather, traffic, and police, I made it to Lake Havasu City just before midnight.  Neglecting to reserve a room was a major error on my part.  It was the the height of spring break, thousands of college kids filled the rooms, I should have known better.  But, after searching for an hour, St Patrick's luck finally came.  The room happend to be no more then 200 yards from the transition area and start of the race!  As usual, I wasn't the least bit tired, it being the night before the race and all (pre-races anxiety).  I ran 4 miles of the course and found a pizza place that had pasta- by far the healthiest race food one could find.  There weren't too many college drunks at the joint ether - bonus!

The Race

The transition area

 

6AM Saturday came expectedly fast.  After picking up my race packet and getting everything situated I was ready to warm up.  The water was fairly cold, what you would expect that time of year since it was mostly fresh snow runoff that filled the lake.  Half the race field was made up of collegiate racers.  The teams use this race as their conference championships.  It's always fun to beat someone in a schools uniform, this condition is no doubtingly left over from my collegiate running.  The collegiate wave left about 10 minutes in front of my 25-29 age group wave, but that made it no less crowded.  The horn blew and we were off!

London Bridge - swim course turn around

The swim course was essentially and out and back with a few extra turns built in.  Leading you down the canal and turning before you get to the London Bridge, they timed it just right so that the sun would be coming up over the horizon at the exact direction we were swimming, making sighting the buoys more of a chore then the swim itself.  I paced my way around the u-turn buoy (technical term) and headed back down the canal to the transition area.  It got a little violent on the final turn in to shore, but I managed to paddle through and up onto the beach, unscathed besides a few bumps and bruises.
After running on what felt like nail infused sand I was greeted by my gear in the transition area, I through on my helmet, grabbed my bike, and took off running towards the bike mount.  Now usually this mounting line would be at the point where you exit the transition area. Well not in Havasu. They made us run about 150 yards over crummy pavement that had to have been laid 5 decades ago that also felt like it was covered in nails!  Unfortunately this feet torture would not be the last of the race.

Once on the bike I immediately began chasing down the competition.  It was satisfying passing one BYU racer after another, satisfying some vendetta I had after sitting through 40 plus minutes of Jimmer Fredette cheers...  The first part of the course was fairly flat, until you got to a residential neighborhood of single family ranch homes built on one big hill side.  Charging my 150 pound body plus bike wight up the still relatively packed race coarse proved quite easy.  I ended up passing about 20 or so riders by the time I crested the top.  Going downhill on the curvy streets was more difficult, it was all I could do to not let some of the heavier riders pass me up.

Once out of the neighborhood debacle we were back on the main shoreline drive.  The lake views were pretty amazing, but I had no time to take them in.  The hwy took us to the gateway of Lake Havasu City where we were required to make a 180 degrees u-turn and head back to transition.  But there was one more obstacle in my way.  The course took us west back towards the lake, sending us down a hill into a fairly well groomed trailer park Nicknamed 'The Gauntlet'!  Once in we took a sharp right, then left turn, and up what feels like the beginning of a roller coaster.  Once at the top you are treated to a great view of the ride you are about to embark on.  A drop of approximately 150 feet and then a climb right back up in less then half a mile.  Followed by another 100 foot drop.  You then get to turn left, head a block south. and do it again.

'The Gauntlet'  -picture doesn't give it justice

The second time around wasn't as smooth.  There was a bit of a rivalry that had formed between me and another rider, and though I knew I would undoubtedly crush him in the run, I couldn't resist beating him out of the gauntlet.  Unfortunately when I shifted in to a higher gear heading down hill I my chain decided to come off... I was forced to stop, and watch the prima donna ride away.

After a 30 or so second delay, I had my bike in working order, and was back in transition in no time.  Leaving my shoes on, I dismounted from my bike, and sprinted over the crumbling pavement back into transition and into the run.  Fighting through the first quarter mile in thick sand I quickly hit my stride.  At this time the three collegiate leaders all CU guys flew past me.  I had to remember they had a ten minute head start, but it certainly exposed my lack of Olympic distance triathlon training.  Mile after mile I was passing person after person, holding on to a steady 6 minute pace for the four miles.  By the turn around point, my feet were stinging with regret of not wear socks once again.  The last two miles became more about finishing fast so as to stop the pain rather then getting a good time.  Over London Bridge, and down the pier, I in typical fashion, gave all I had.  At the end no one passed me on the run, though it was close.

Lake Havasu International Distance Triathlon - 2:27:35 good enough for 27th place, and 3rd in age group.
With splits of:
28:06 Swim - 1500 Meters
1:16:10 Bike - 40k (24.8 miles)
41:05 Run - 10k (6.2 miles)

Post Race

Following the race, I met up with with some guys from the CSU you triathlon team I had trained with back in Fort Collins and was invited back to there camp.  When I got there, I realized I had gone about this all wrong.  The collegiate teams all had their beach camps set up and were out ready to party. Next year I will defiantly bring a tent.  We hung out by the bond fire and made friends with the Snowbirds just down the beach at their make shift beach bar; complete with a fridge, stereo, and beer pong table!   It definably made for an unforgettable night.

The next day I was up and checked out by 8.  I had planned to take a couple more days off, and take advantage of my proximity to the ocean.  6 hours later (2 of it stuck in traffic) I arrived in Santa Monica; right in the middle of the LA marathon - and what seemed to be a hurricane! -or is it a typhoon in the Pacific?  I found a quint motel in the old part of town for a cheap price that was only a 10 minute run to the beach.  Unfortunately the storm hindered my ability to spend a relaxing rest of the day lounging in the sun, but it didn't stop my dog Abdi and I from getting in a beach run.

That night I found a good sports bar and watch the local Lakers beat up on another weaker team as usual.  Chatting it up with the locals I thought to my self "I could definitely live here", just in time to be informed a two room apartments go for 2000 a month here... Oh well, may the price will go down when it falls into the ocean.  The next day brought clear skies and a rare occurrence in LA, clean air.  I was advised that Runyon Park was the running hotspot in the area.  It took a few loops to get in 13 miles, but it was doable; plus it's a off leach area, which if you run with my dog, it's always better to have him off leash.  It was on my third to last loop that my phone died, and thus my camera.  It was my luck that at that point my dog found a playmate at the top of one of the hills, despite my pleas he kept running around with this other dog, I then heard the dogs owner say "Chev, you gotta see this" and wouldn't you know it was Chevy Chase.  He was a bit aged, but still had his distinctive voice we all remember from SNL and the Family Vacation movies. We chatted a bit about how his dog was so much older then mine yet could still keep up with him (despite my dog had just run 10 miles, I withheld that comment).  After talking for a bit and satisfied I had met at least one celebrity while I was out here I headed back to the car.  I followed up the run with a LONG walk of fame (not really worth it) and took off on the 16 hour dive back.

After staying the night in Vegas I took off without spending a dime besides the 30$ steal hotel room.  I was able to fit in a drive of the St George Ironman course to see just how hilly it was, and to get a good idea of the terrain I should be training on.  Result - very hilly and mountains...  OK, maybe not mountains, but foothills none the less with at least 3 big climbs and and plenty of long gradual ones.  I then decided I would try and miss a impending storm and go up through Salt Lake City and I-80 to get home.

And that's how I got stuck at a truck stop in the middle of Wyoming.  4 hours later I was home, and able to sleep a full hour before work.  Gotta love that first day back after vacation!

Fast Forward

I'm now laying here in St George, the night before my second Ironman, and second attempt at qualifying for the Ironman World Championships.  It looks to be a hot one, with a high of 90 and full sun.  The coarse is gorgeous.  Red cliffs everywhere you look, it's almost enough to detract me from the pain it will be inflicting on me over the 140.6 mile race.  Everything ready, the only thing left to do is relax and try and get some rest.