Matt Nussbaum – Age Grouper

Even though it was technically a B-race for me this year, I wanted to win more than I can describe. I had been 2nd overall two years in a row and was ready to go deeper than I ever have to finally break the tape.

Lead up

My training the last few months has been pretty solid, but definitely not perfect. My swim and bike fitness have been looking as good as ever. General life stress has been higher than it has been in the past and my run volume has been way lower than what I would like. I had a hip issue pop up after Top Gunz camp that has been nagging on and off. Using the Lever on my treadmill has helped me keep most of the fitness I built for a marathon back in March, but it’s hard to tell where my strength endurance and durability in general stand. There are always concerns and unknowns, but it’s tough to be confident when it feels like your weakness is getting weaker.

Things were feeling pretty good come race week. My taper workouts were going well and my hip was feeling alright. Thankfully it was a short taper. I always forget how weird and awful everything feels. From my Wednesday workout comments: “Feeling slow, fat, and uncoordinated even though all of the numbers say otherwise.” Colin and I talked through a race plan and some power targets Thursday afternoon. I had already found the start list and formed an idea of who to worry about. I’ve raced all of them before and know their strengths. I felt I could take an educated guess at their strategies.

One Day Out

I went down to the venue Friday afternoon for registration and to participate on a panel Jeff, the race director had planned. I spent way more time on my feet than I should have walking around and talking to people. The panel was fun though. It’s always nice getting to talk about my background and how I got to where I am. He asked me how I felt about racing the guy who beat me last year and what my goals for the race were. I had kept how badly I wanted to take the win mostly to myself and a handful of friends until that moment. I wasn’t all that nervous about the race until I said it out loud though. Something about calling my shot in public made it more real. I suddenly had some butterflies to deal with for the long drive home.

Race Morning

I was awake a few minutes before my 3:55am alarm. There’s no getting used to that early wake up to hammer down a banana, protein shake, and a couple cups of applesauce. I sipped my coffee waiting until it was time to pile in the car for the drive down. 

The drive was easy outside of the nerves acting up on and off. I mentioned it to Naomi and she helped me calm down. I warned her that she was going to get a sweaty hug if I somehow managed to pull off the win. 

One of the main contenders was already setting up his spot in transition next to mine when I got there. He had clearly done the same strategizing I had. He suggested that we work together to build a lead ahead of last year’s winner, which was exactly what I was going to say. He and I generally swim the same and bike similarly as well. He has the leg up when it comes to the run, but that seemed like a problem for later. We needed a 9-10 minute lead out of T2 to avoid getting caught and there is a huge benefit being together, even at 12 meters.

I didn’t totally realize how windy it was until we got to the swim start. There was going to be a strong headwind and decent chop for the swim out. I don’t think I had seen white caps in Long Pond before. I knew it was going to be a hard swim out and an easy cruise back. That was going to improve my odds if I played it right. 

Swim

The starting horn went off and I went as hard as I could for the first 200 yards. I settled in at a pace a bit above what I would normally aim for at this distance. I knew I was in front, but I had no idea if anyone was on my feet or not. I wanted to make sure to drop anyone barely hanging on well before we got the easy ride to shore. 

Despite more than a few mouthfuls of water on breaths and sights interrupted by waves, I swam surprisingly straight from buoy to buoy all of the way to the first turn. I took the opportunity to check for anyone hanging on as I went around the turn buoy. No one was anywhere close.

I stayed on the gas from the first turn to the second with more mouthfuls of water. I wanted to breathe bilaterally as much as I could to avoid tiring out one side of my body more than the other. That usually results in me struggling to stay on course for the return leg. Drinking some lake water seemed like an acceptable cost to avoid losing a chunk of my lead like I did last year.

I turned toward shore and checked behind me one more time in case there was someone I didn’t see at the first turn. I was still off the front alone. I settled into an easier pace with the wind and chop pushing me back to the swim exit. Just like in a downriver swim, there’s not much to be gained going hard when there is assistance. 

T1

Approaching the swim exit, I popped up as soon as my fingers started touching the bottom and ran into transition. I only checked my watch for a quarter second before I lapped it and thought I saw 24-something. The swim must have been a little short or I just swam out of my skin. I wasn’t going to stick around to question it. 

I had walked the path I wanted to take through the racks to my spot Friday afternoon to make sure I wasn’t going to need to think about anything other than getting my wetsuit off my upper body with my head spinning from the swim. I’m pretty sure that one paid off. I got my legs and feet out of my wetsuit faster than I usually can. My helmet was on and bucked in seconds and I was off toward the mount line. I had my shoes clipped into the pedals already and had done a bunch of mounting practice during the week to prepare for this moment. I still can’t do a flying mount, but I can get on and going much faster than last year. My T1 time was 56 seconds; without a doubt my fastest ever. All of the prep paid off and I held onto as much of my swim lead as I could have hoped.

Bike

I got my feet into my shoes efficiently and tucked into aero. Once I had ramped up to the power target, I started feeling the lake water in my stomach asking to get out. I threw up about a mouthful at a time every few minutes over the opening miles, probably exacerbated by trying to start getting drink mix down. Unpleasant, but not a new experience for me.

I looked back in the first couple of corners to see if I was going to get some help, but no one was in sight. I gave up on that thought and my eyes were totally focused forward by the time I turned onto Bedford St. My power was right around my 285W target through the end of the first quarter of the ride and adrenaline was wearing off quickly. I was starting to realize the power target was aspirational. There are plenty of reasons why that was the case, but it didn’t really matter. I needed to do something to avoid hemorrhaging power or blowing up on the run.

I ramped down my power output to a more sustainable feeling pace. It turned out to be around 12W looking back at the data. My stomach had mostly settled and I was back on track taking down my carb mix. I had a caffeine gel just after mile 30 to give it a few minutes to kick in before I needed to start passing folks. The second loop is always sketchy.

The hard swim must have stretched the field out more than usual. The second loop felt way less congested than years past. I still had to yell at times and there were a few close calls, but it was nothing like what I had to do the past two years. While lapping a lot of the field can be a bit stressful, there’s always some aero benefit from all of the bodies. I wound up backing off the power some more as the fatigue continued to set in and still rode the second loop a couple of seconds faster than the first.

It’s always tempting to go easy for the short stretch from the turn off of the loop back to transition. I still had no idea what the gap was to second though which helped me stay focused and push through the end. I got to the event parking and pulled off my shoes to prepare for the dismount into T2.

T2

My dismount was clean. My practice paid off again. Running with the bike was less so. The cranks kept turning and the bike would jump when one of the shoes hit the ground. I did my best to ignore it and got to my spot as efficiently as I could. I threw my bike on the rack and got my socks and shoes on as quickly as I could. My transition clocked in at 1:55, about 45 seconds faster than last year. Not great, but an improvement.

Run

I finally saw the gap I had on second place on my way out of T2. We passed by as he was approaching the dismount line and I was heading onto the course. There was about half a second of trash talk. I figured I had been in there about two minutes and he transitions faster than I do, so that gap would probably drop to 90 seconds or less. I knew that no matter what happened, I could not look behind me until I was in the finish chute.

I went out a little faster than planned. My legs felt wonkier than usual having not run off the bike much in the past few weeks and my stomach was in knots. Dark thoughts about the wheels coming off were starting to creep in. Had I gone too hard on the bike? He should have a better run than I do. How long would it take him to chase me down? It felt like I was stewing in those thoughts for an eternity even though it was probably only 5 minutes. I still knew I couldn’t look back.

I backed off to my actual target pace for mile 3 and things started feeling a little better. I made peace with the fact that there was nothing I could do about the guys chasing me. I had to just trust myself and run the time trial. I was able to stomach some gel at that point too. 

The plan was to pick up the pace at mile 4, but that wasn’t happening. There were some rolling hills over the next few miles and I just tried to hold my effort consistent over them. As I approached the aid station at mile 8, I saw the point where I had been passed the two years prior. The landmark came and went and I was still leading. Breaking through that point was massive mentally. It suddenly became easier to break up the rest of the course into chunks. My mindset went to curiosity mode. Could I lead through mile 9? How about mile 10? The miles hurt, but they went by faster and faster.

Somewhere in there, a guy out riding their bike told me the gap was 50 seconds. I realized after a moment that it was my bike fitter. I made a crack about how the Ku must not have been fast enough with the little bit of energy a could muster. I was still very much on the rivet and had a couple miles to go. I wasn’t sure I could hold that gap, but I was game to try. 

I took the turn in the middle of mile 11 and fought the urge to look back. I didn’t want to know what the gap looked like. There were two more hills to get over. I tried to find another gear to pick it up. I might have only squeaked out a couple of seconds per mile, but it was something. I kept that momentum going and accelerated a little bit more as I passed the next mile marker. There was just one hill left.

I think my arms did most of the work getting me up that last hill and down the last bit of road to the turn into the race venue. I made the turn and ran through the grassy section to the bridge, giving it everything I could muster. I still had no idea if he was near me and I was afraid I would get caught at the line. 

I finally looked back as I stepped off the bridge and turned down the finish chute. No one was there. I relaxed and eased up to soak in the moment knowing that I had just done it. Stepping up and grabbing the tape felt better than I could have imagined. I won the race.