_motivation
After the solo race in 2008, I plotted to return to break
600km in 2010. Life took an unexpected
turn in 2009—devoting daily life to training was no longer feasible. I postponed the 600k ambition each year. Philippe Coussy beat me to it in 2012.
I was inspired by Luke and Jessica’s 2013 strategy: keep it
simple; forget peaking; just do it.
Endurance sport ain't always about a big number. “Play while health and friend exist.” It didn’t take much to convince Casey to be
my relay partner. Voon volunteered to
support.
_goals:
1. everyone safe and
happy
2. fight for win if
realistic
3. 400 miles
4. podium finish
5. unable to walk
normally Monday
_preparation
Casey and I focused on practicality.
We biked more than skated; Dallas wasn’t skate-friendly. We maintained running form and would run
Dallas Marathon in December.
The training schedule resembled typical triathlon programs:
2~5 week meso-cycles;
4-month base building followed by high heart-rate cycles
3-week taper.
I squeezed in a week of vacation in Maryland. The longest skate was 5 hours—a far cry from
2008’s 12-hr Shicoff race simulation.
At times it was hard to resist training longer and harder. “It’s better to be 10% under- than 1%
over-trained”
Body weight cooperated.
Nevertheless I felt fat during taper.
Boots continued to be a source of frustration. I gave up on the visually beautiful custom
Simmons.
_Montreal lodging
I stayed at Celine’s row house while Casey and Voon used a
bed-n-breakfast. We walked more than
ideal the days leading to the race. The
trip wasn’t all about the race.
_shift strategy
1 90-minute shift followed by 10 1-hour shifts from each
skater. Rotate every lap during final
hour.
[compression sleeves as shin guards. ready to follow racer with big back kicks. selfie by Voon]
_revenge skate
Sam Fistel set up his camp next to ours. He won 2010 solo category but had a
disappointing 2013 event. He’s
determined to put up a big number.
[I followed the kid at the edge of the photo. 23.9 hours to go. photo from FB]
_rivals
Our paddock neighbor Victorious Secret was eager,
long-legged, young, and intimidating. I started
the race behind a Victorious uncomfortably fast; the free ride was hard to
refuse. My heart rate monitor
malfunctioned, but I knew the effort wasn’t sustainable. I let my draft go after 2 laps. The 24-hour event was more about staying
awake than about speed.
I hopped on the pack behind Marianne Portelance of “It Takes
2.” She looked and skated like Jennifer
Rodriquez: flat back with back kick. Her
partner had abundant hair coming out of his helmet and legs. Victorious soon slowed and joined our pack. The pack pace was dictated by the top solo
skater Bruno Pettersen Coulombe.
_"All for one.
All for one."
Many of my laps were with Bruno following team #22. Bruno picked nutrition directly out of his
support's back pockets. Having a
dedicated team was a no-brainer when I plotted to break the solo record. Someone finally implemented the strategy.
Bruno would finish 151 laps for a
new world record (655 km).
[Everyone was curious about the blood on the knee. photo from FB]
_close call
The 7-man pack was chaotic at the exchange zone. Some wanted to protect their positions;
others were getting on or off the course.
Marianne and I clicked frames. I
let the pack go and drafted behind another soloist moving 17 mph by himself. His steady rhythm broke as he attempted to stay
in a slipstream. He crashed. I jumped but clipped his right thigh. I turned 180 in midair and had to put a hand on
the ground to stay upright.
“You alright?”
“Yeah!”
The big guy glanced at his road rash and continued on,
disgusted. I followed. I never saw him again after the shift. My lower back stiffened up. I worried.
23 hours to go.
A skater lied on the ground in the relay zone with broken
teeth. That could've been me.
Luke and Jessica lost the baton in the middle of the
night. I wondered how. I lost the baton 1 hour into the race.
Casey came out 8 minutes ahead of schedule. I got off the course regretting the suicidal
pace. I downed the scheduled nutrition. I wished I bought more water and
Gatorade. I wished I used Loctite and
new bearings. I couldn’t wait for my
next shift.
_time to complete 44 laps
Victorious Secret 06:16:23.41
It Takes 2 06:16:27.41
Texas Flyers 07:06:21.05
Brice 07:57:32.65
_into the night
By 10pm, it became apparent 400-mile was unrealistic. Texas Flyer struggled with 10-minute
laps. Victorious Secret was doing sub-9. We continued to strive for a podium
finish. Young racers tended
sleep.
I left a message for Casey: skate conservatively before 3am,
the midpoint.
_communication through support
Every hour, Casey and I exchanged 2 words + 1 phrase:
1. shouting each
other’s name
2. “contact”
3. words of
encouragement before actual push. “Stay
upright.” “How you doing?” “I’m cold too.” "Less than half left." "Stay safe."
All other info was communicated via Voon in writing.
As I sat down after each shift, nutrition bags would magically appear around the chair. Voon would take my trash, charge the GPS, and hand me skate tool per schedule on the spreadsheet. I felt pampered. In her spare time, Voon prepare Sam's drinks to save him a few bend-overs.
_2nd near crash
12:15am, I was behind a Victorious when he crashed behind Bruno. I couldn't see much in the dark but
miraculously stayed up right. Bruno threw
me a question mark.
“He crashed,” I answered in English and had no detail to
contribute.
Bruno shrugged and told his windshield to keep going.
_cramping
1am, my left calf cramped. It got worse after half-hour rest. Quads were also unhappy. Putting on skate became challenging. I visited the HPH massage tent at 3am; the
staff was friendly.
“Where is it hurt, calf, hamstring, quads, lower back,
no?”
“Yeah. How do you
know?”
Everyone laughed.
“Don’t worry. We’ll
fix.”
I woke up 20 minutes later on the table feeling
relaxed. Cramp resumed the moment left
foot touched the ground.
“Do you have enough electrolytes? Are you drinking?”
I dreaded having to ask Casey to skate my shifts. I started popping Endurolyte.
_early retirements
Sam stopped skating halfway through. His body wasn’t working as planned. Sam integrated into Texas Flyer’s support
team.
Victorious Secret disappeared by hour 14.
An hour later, "It Takes 2" went to bed.
I continued to fight cramps.
Casey made good use of the blister kit and had other issues. We were slowing at slower rate than our
competitors. Our standing kept
improving. I left Casey a message, “10
mph is faster than 0 mph. Forget about
lap count. Just keep moving.”
_time to complete 77 laps
Victorious Secret
11:20:42.27
Texas Flyers
13:05:47.37
It Takes 2
13:08:16.99
Brice
14:46:48.55
_nutrition
Instead of using proven options, I arrogantly assumed I
could handle 350 solid-food calories during each rest hour. I also decided to test going with minimum
electrolyte supplement. This was a
"B" race where I tried new things.
GI issue started before muscle cramps. Bathroom trips robbed me of rest time. I stopped all solid food; I conjectured my heart
rate was so low I was burning mostly fat.
I popped Endurolyte like candy.
Red Bull and canned coffee started around 4am; they were delicious. I stole Sam's Gatorade.
The sugary liquid diet made me think about my diabetic
brother. I wished he was at my corner. I missed my family.
I was wet and cold at night but felt changing cloth had
unfavorable return on investment. It's cheaper to
shiver.
[Wrapped in Celine’s
blanket in the relay zone waiting for next shift. Photo by Voon]
_living on others’ generosity
[Celine provided our race bed and other items. Selfie by Voon]
Candy volunteered to prepare Voon’s meals throughout the
event, including celebratory cakes.
10-man teams went out of their ways to provide draft for duo
and solo racers: Flying Fossils, Toronto Inline, Rainbo, strangers, 1 quad
skater, and Super Mario.
The most used words on the course were “gauche (on your
left)” and “merci.”
I was in 2 skaters’ slipstream when the shorter skater
demanded that I share the work. The lead
skater refused. They argued. The little guy accelerated away angrily. The lead skater made sure I stayed protected
and could handle the pace.
_all was lost
I was on sleeping bag visualizing the medal when Casey
rolled into paddock 15 minutes ahead of 8am exchange. He was dizzy.
I didn’t ask details; Voon would make good decisions with Sam’s help. I laced up and started rolling.
_"I want my mommy"
The sun was up. A duo
competitor offered draft. I accepted. He was skating well but slept his podium
chance away. I was in no mood to chat
about the Ironman logo tattooed on his right calf.
Skating 7.25 hours at any speed could keep us on the
podium.
“Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
I tried to pull a group of solo skaters; they didn’t like my
pace or cadence.
Candy caught me from behind to reduce my wattage requirement. Her teammates continued the generosity. A local squad took over. That team entered the event to help solo and
duo skaters. The 4th member
was incapable of slow and steady concurrently.
I became alone on the seemingly deserted race track.
Cyclists showed up for their Sunday morning workouts doing
circles around me. Pro skaters also passed
me as if I were standing still. The top skaters
laid down sub-7-minute laps throughout the race. I lost interest in their technique. I just wanted to lie down. Just an hour ago a podium finish felt inevitable. I was afraid to ingest calorie; bathroom trip
would cost a lap. “Just keep moving--slowly
and pukelessly.”
Herb came out with his trademark smile. I whined. “I didn’t prepare to skate 7 hours straight.” He listened but wasn’t allowed to help me
without a bib.
The legs couldn’t possibly go for another 6 hours. I tried to draw strength from past experiences. None made muscle fibers contract better. I felt childish for feeling unfair. “Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it,” said
Clintwood in “Unforgiven.”
I stopped the emotional downward spiral by focusing on
seeking out each of Super Mario's teammate.
_glimpse of hope
9:15am. Voon shouted,
“Casey can skate now.” I was
concerned. The heart surgery wasn’t that
long ago. I didn’t know what stopped
him 90 minutes ago: heart rate, lumbar, GI, blisters, core temperature, cramp, electrolyte,
hydration.
We had the top lap count. The podium finish was ours to lose.
[leading by 6 laps at hour 20. screenshot from Voon's phone]
_time to complete 111 laps
_time to complete 111 laps
Texas Flyers
20:03:01.67
It Takes 2
21:01:09.46
Brice
21:28:39.11
Victorious Secret
out of picture
_electronic malfunction
Monitor showed us leading “It Takes 2” by 4 laps before the event
computer crashed. Our rival skated multiple
sub-9-minute laps Sunday morning; we were doing 10~13-minute. I had mental imagine of Mirinda Carfrae
chasing down her 2013 Kona gold. We had
1-lap margin per hour. All the sudden a
podium finish was insufficient--I wanted to win.
11:30am. I got on the
course and was immediate caught by “It Takes 2.” They reduced our lead by 3 laps in < 2 hours. I stuck to the hairy dude and maintained the 3-lap
lead for the hour. He wasn't drafting well and wasn't going as fast as I was afraid of. Everyone looked
tired, even the 10-man teams. 2.5 hours to go.
_familiar route
Relay zone: look for drafts while avoiding colliding into
skaters getting on and off the course.
Straighten lower back and use outer edges to recover from low skating during previous section.
Short flat straight: muster courage to sprint up the
climb--might need to match pace.
Uphill: Swing arms, hip, tongue, and all available body
parts to save quads while looking for a ride.
High cadence.
Downhill: long stride and glide but be ready to sprint into
a slipstream. Don’t cut the pros off at
the left-hand turn.
Short climb, right turn, downhill, left turn: maintain the
rhythm. Avoid the man hole. Watch for bikes, tricycles, baby strollers, skateboarders,
runners, and inline skaters.
Straight flat before 180-degree turn: try not to zone
out. Skate on left side to avoid
manholes.
Hairpin: be efficient.
Avoid cross over. Don't skate into the draft.
Downhill straight.
Long strides—push and glide. Be
small--hands on knees. Thank the
volunteers. Enter the relay zone.
_final hours
Instead of hourly shifts, Casey and I rotated after every
lap. It's hard to believe 350-mile could
win this race. Things could still go
wrong: cramps, mechanicals, and crashes.
I felt being chased by Joey Mantia.
The hairy dude from "It Takes 2" could hide behind elite teams. I couldn’t remember my last 10-minute
lap. I didn’t remember feeling this weak
in 2008.
Sam became our race advisor.
We agreed 3-lap was insurmountable, except we had no way of confirming
the actual lap counts. There was a
chance the lap counts were off from the start.
We decided to error on the paranoid side. I didn’t want to become the famous 2010
Columbian skater
_the final nail
The hairy boy walked to the pit with skates in hand. The girl-roommate wasn’t
ready. Our lead increased by 1 lap.
_chased by fear
Celine and everyone showered us with positivity. We needed it.
Last 2 laps. I still
felt “It Takes 2” was breathing down my neck despite all evidence to the
contrary. Maybe they didn't really
sleep; maybe the chip failed to trigger the sensor.
My form reached a new low as a racer caught me on the
climb. “Help me!” He waited for me to get in position, said a
few French words, and started to hammer.
My strides regained timing. It
still amazed me how paceline worked.
Every inch of the course was familiar by now. My existence shrank to matching movements of
a stranger’s feet. The motion became
second nature again. The end was in
sight. I felt free. I didn’t want this to end.
The final sub-10-minute lap ended. 200 miles came late in the race—it took me an
hour more than planned. I recounted
things we didn't optimize: pace, nutrition, rest, clothing, and race simulation. Mostly we didn't carve out the resources necessarily
to train for the pace--this was a team decision made months ago.
We didn't reached Luke and Jessica's 2013 lap count; they
were 3rd. Race results are about who
show up.
The PA system sandwiched “Texas Flyers” between French phrases.
Maybe announcer said “Our own It Takes 2
is only 70 seconds behind the Texas Flyers.
We can still do it!” I continued to push. I kept looking back.
My team was all smiles after I high-fived through the human
tunnel. I tried not to look at watch
every 5 seconds before the 15-minute result challenging window expired at
3:15pm Sunday.
_#’s
Laps: 132
Total Distance: 356 miles
Speed: 14.8 mph
Fast lap: 8:19
Slow moving lap: 16:23
Slow lap with break: 22:06
Lap distance: 4.34km
Johnny's Garmin 310XT data
[photo from FB]
Position Team Name lap
count
1 Texas Flyer 132
2 It Takes 2 128
3 Brice 125
6 Victorious
Secret 81
Things could've been different if the silver medalists watched this video
_post-race
Casey recovered as if it were just another fun long ride. He wore a smile and last pair of dry socks.
Candy’s hug and cake were sweet. It's helpful knowing a friend wanted you to
succeed.
Celine soaked up the atmosphere and didn’t seem surprised by
anything.
I recognized half the skaters who helped me. Everyone was in celebratory mood.
It was great to see Patrick and his 3 females. He provided a hug and a Belgium beer.
The stomach never felt great after midnight. It went further south with alcohol. I leaned my forehead against a wall ready for
things to come out while Casey and Voon loaded the rental car. This race was harder than Tour de Donuts.
Walking wasn’t too difficult. “Should’ve skated harder.”
Celine offered everything we wanted: hot shower, dining
arrangement, and sleeping quarters.
The digestive system recovered in time for the celebratory
dinner.
I felt blessed.
1 comment:
Major congrats to you and Casey. I love reading your play-by-plays of what happpened and how you were feeling.
Still doing A to A?
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