Matt Nussbaum – Age Grouper

To put it bluntly, Ironman Lake Placid went bad. I had put so much into it and when it was time to go to the well, I came up dry. My confidence in my fitness was shaken by one of the worst feeling performances in the time I’ve been doing this triathlon thing. Looking back on the lead up, I came to realize that I had dramatically underestimated how additional life stresses were affecting my workouts and recovery. 

I had to figure out how to get back on track, otherwise I was going to lose my love for the sport. Step one was reducing training volume. The more difficult part was remembering how to really dig for it when a race got hard. A good block of local races seemed like a path to rebuilding that grit. By the end of it, ‘Project: Remember how to hurt’ seemed like it had worked. I was able to push real power on the bike again and I was able to keep running hard no matter how badly I wanted to quit. It felt like I was back to myself again on course just in time for the next A-race of the season.

Prerace

Naomi and I drove down to my parents’ house in the rain Thursday afternoon. They’re about an hour and change from the venue, which broke up the trip nicely. Not having to spend the extra night in a hotel was also awesome. I got everything set up for my morning workouts before bed. Rain all day and into the night Thursday meant the road was still pretty wet early Friday morning when I did my shake out ride and run. Giving the bike a quick clean after was only a little annoying. I had my one day out pancake breakfast before I packed everything up for the trip to Long Island.

There was little traffic on the way and we made it with time to check in before my race planning call with Colin. Bib number 199. As silly as it is, I had a good feeling having a number loosely connected to Tom Brady. The forecast was showing conditions similar to last year: rain and wind. We were going to get to have a full swim this time though, thankfully. The race plan was relatively simple: catch a draft in the swim (if possible); send it on the bike; be ready for the headwind on the run.

Race morning

I got spoiled with the local racing getting to eat solid food for breakfast. It was back to the whole jar of applesauce accompanied by a banana for this one. I forced down the “meal” starting at 4 and packed up the last few things in the room. My nutrition was already mixed and in the car along with my transition bag. I had made it that little bit easier on myself for the early wake up.

We rolled out around 4:50 and made it to Jones Beach a few minutes before transition opened. It was already windy and raining. Staying dry was a lost cause, so trying not to get too cold was the priority. It only took about 10 minutes to air up my tires and set up my gear. I opted to drop my tire pressure a couple psi for the wet roads. I took a few moments to double check that everything was in its place and mimed a couple transitions before starting to head back to the car to drop my mostly empty bag.

I put on my wetsuit by the car even though it was still pretty early. I hoped it would keep me a little bit warmer for the remaining time before the start. It definitely helped some, but not as much as I would have liked. I was more or less out of things to do so I started wandering toward the swim start. The stop at the porta-john on the was actually a nice break from the cold and rain which says enough about how awful it was out.

I got over to the swim start with about 20 minutes to wait. I really hoped they would start on time, unlike last year. Friends started showing up not long after. They helped distract me from my shivering. I glanced toward the choppy water a few times, but didn’t think too hard about it. I knew I could handle whatever the swim was going to throw at me. They finally let us step into the chutes with a couple minutes to go. I found myself in the front row this time without actually fighting for it. People must have been nervous about the swim. Looking out at the bay, I could understand the nerves; I was still confident and ready.

Swim

The horn went off and I sprinted across the beach toward the water. The first 100ish yards are awful. It’s about thigh deep water for most of it. It’s not quite enough to swim in so I had to high knee my way out. I decided to take the less efficient line to try and get a little deeper quicker so I could start swimming. I have no idea if that was the right choice or not. I was off and going either way.

The run in and chop bunched up the group and gave me some feet to choose from. I decided to take the draft from the ones that seemed to be moving through the group the fastest. The chop wasn’t too bad for swimming yet, but it made it hard to sight more than a buoy out. It seemed like we were the front group though, so I stayed in the draft as easy as the pace felt. 

We got to the second sight buoy and it felt like the pace was slowing. I started trying to sight more for anyone off the front that I had missed in the initial chaos. That’s when I caught a glimpse of someone about 25 yards ahead of us. It looked like he was extending that gap quickly too. I had to make the decision whether to play it safe in the group or go for it and try to chase him down. Between my confidence in the water and feeling like we were still slowing down, the decision was easy. I went for it.

I couldn’t tell if anyone came with me in my surge, but I wasn’t going to look back to find out. My focus was on getting to the turn buoy where we would turn about 45 degrees into the wind and  the chop was going to get worse. When I got to it, I realized that I was the only one who actually swam straight at it. I saw a group closer to shore, where they were both swimming a shorter (legal) line and getting more protection from the wind and chop. It felt like I had wasted a surge, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me. I stayed on the gas through the turn, straight into the waves.

The chop was rough, but I’ve dealt with worse at one point or another. I settled into my pace and pushed toward the turn. I could see the leader in the distance still. There was no sense trying to catch him at that point. I would just burn matches and probably drink sea water to buy a minute or two. There was a sense of relief as I approached the turn knowing it was going to be a fast ride home as long as I stayed on course.

I took a second going around the buoy to see if I had company and found myself alone. The next turn wasn’t far and swimming across the wind was a whole lot easier than swimming into it. I took the turn for the return leg and immediately felt the help from the wind. Pushing hard wasn’t going to buy me much time, so my entire focus was on keeping a straight line to the next sight buoy.

The ride to the exit was fun and easy, but the shallows came up quicker than I expected. I was back in knee deep water a good 50 yards out. I don’t think that was the case last year. I tried a couple of dolphin dives but it was going to be way too far to keep that up. I settled for slowly running through the water. I used the time to get the top of my goggles and wetsuit off well before making it to shore. The run probably only took a minute but it felt like an eternity.

T1

I knew well enough where I was going in transition which made the run through easier. I heard from a few people that I was a few minutes back. I wasn’t worried about it. There was plenty of race left and my power target on the bike was already pretty aggressive. I was either going to catch him or I wasn’t. There’s no sense changing a strategy thirty minutes into a four hour race.

I got to my bike and the bottom half of my wetsuit came right off. I don’t know what I was thinking when I set up my transition spot, but I had left my helmet upside down to fill with rain. It was nice and soggy when I put it on my head. I grabbed my bike and headed for the mount line.

My mount wasn’t my best work, but I wanted to be careful with the wind blowing. I was off and going.

Bike

I made sure to get up to speed before trying to get my feet in my shoes. The opening bit of road had some turns and was a bit disorienting. I couldn’t really predict where the wind was going to be coming from at any given point. I knew I had to get my feet in and get aero to avoid burning more time. It took some concentration to keep the bike straight, but I got there.

Settled in position, it was time to get to work. I ramped the power up to the target, maybe a bit more and already had a good feeling about the ride. There was a wild crosswind going over a bridge early on and the bike barely reacted to it. The Ku handles wind so much better than my old bike. I blew by the leader upright on a road bike shortly after the bridge. I’m glad I didn’t worry about him.

I stayed tight in aero and on target. The rain kept coming, forcing me to wipe my visor occasionally. The bulk of the course is a three lane wide parkway that was completely closed for the race. It’s so simple that there is no reason to ever get out of aero. Most of it was sheltered from the wind too. This bike split is purely watts per CDA. I’m pretty good in both of those categories and I was going to take advantage of it.

I got to the turn around and finally had the chance to start measuring my lead. Just like before, I wasn’t going to adjust my plan but it’s nice to know. I figured the gap at about two minutes when I saw the first guy. The next few, including Colin, trickled by over the next two minutes. The return leg of the course was FAST. It seemed like every time I looked at my computer, I saw 29-30 mph. I probably was pushing a bit harder than I should have, but my focus was on staying tucked and in control while also getting my nutrition down.

I was at the cross windy bridge before I knew it and got to the turnaround shortly after that. Second loops are always chaotic at the front of the race. The lead car splits off and no one starting their bike leg expects someone coming up behind them going 10-15 mph faster. The best I can do is be vocal like always and give people plenty of warning. Having a three or four lane wide course is pretty helpful, but not perfect. I think I only had to pass one person on their right. I did my best not to make a snarky remark. 

Once I was settled in on the sheltered parkway, I felt the fatigue in my legs. I couldn’t help questioning the power I had been pushing and some of the matches I probably burned. I took a caffeine gel, backed off the power a little, and did my best to distract myself whenever negative thoughts started creeping in. Watching Cars 3 the day prior gave me something fun to quote to myself. 

While the second loop can be complicated, I generally don’t need to produce the same power thanks to the draft of everyone I’m passing. The speed looked about the same every time I looked at my computer and I didn’t think too hard about forcing it. People kept staying out of my way for the most part and I got to the turn around. I hoped to be able to see the chasers again after that turn, but there were too many bodies around. Not only were they hidden in the crowd, making a small mistake while passing in tight quarters could easily end my day or even my season. 

I flew back down the parkway to the end of the bike course. I saw far less carnage this year than last, giving a bit of a sense of relief. I let off the gas approaching the final turns toward transition. I got to deal with a surprise when I split off from the pack with a few people who had set up their camping chairs in the middle of the course not realizing I needed to ride through the middle. It all worked out okay thankfully. I rode into transition having put down what would be the fastest bike split of the day.

T2

My dismount was about as ungraceful as my mount. The wind seemed more violent than it had been before. I jogged into transition with the bike and saw my mom by the side of the course cheering. I racked the bike, took my helmet off, and took a quick breath to recenter myself. I knew I had a decent gap, but there was no way to know whether it would be enough. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and go out too hot running scared.

My socks and shoes went on without issue. I grabbed my hat, sunglasses, and racebelt, putting them on on the move. I could already picture the key landmarks on the course. It was time to bring it home.

Run

I turned out of transition and tried to hone in on my pace. I wanted to go out relatively conservative knowing I would have a big tailwind on the way out. I checked my watch a couple of times and saw that I was going way too fast for how easy the effort felt. That didn’t bode well for the return trip. I realized pretty quickly that pace targets weren’t going to do a whole lot for me. I had to go off of effort. 

I stayed within myself to the turnaround around mile three. Turning into the headwind was a mental challenge. I wasn’t that fatigued yet, but I definitely wasn’t feeling great. I realized that I hadn’t taken a gel yet, so I slammed one of those. I avoided checking my watch as long as I could to avoid the mental hit of the slow pace. It was a good forty seconds per mile slower when I couldn’t help but look.

It was only about two minutes after turning when I saw the first guy chasing me. Of course it was Colin. My bike escort told me I probably had a good three minutes on him. I chuckled as I told him I needed way more than that. I resolved to hang onto the lead as long as I could. There’s always a chance.

The headwind was brutal all of the way back to the turn toward transition. I got such a boost seeing my family by transition. Hearing the dog cheering along gave me a good laugh too. I tried to high five all of them as I ran by and connected on two out of three. It was back to work after that. I was going to need to start making my way through a crowd. 

Having the bike escort was super helpful. I could focus on breathing instead of announcing my presence to tell them to move out of the way. The tailwind helped get my pace and turnover back up. Colin caught and passed me around mile ten. I thought about trying to go with him for half a second, but didn’t think I could do it when I was already hurting so badly. In hindsight, hiding behind him would have been really helpful going back into the headwind if I could have kept up.

I got to the turnaround and prepared myself for the slog, hoping it wouldn’t be as rough as I expected. Unfortunately, it was. I did everything I could to hang onto my turnover. I knew the next few chasers were probably closing in and quickly started seeing them. It seemed like the top five or six guys were pretty close together and there was a decent gap after that. I needed to hold it together.

The next guy blew by me around mile eleven. I was so mentally thrashed that I didn’t give hanging on a single thought. I kept focusing on the path in front of me, looking for any landmarks to use to figure out how far there was to go. I think I heard some friends yell things to me from the other side of the course, but I was in tunnel-vision mode with only a mile or so to go. 

I picked up the pace a little when I got to the mile twelve sign. I didn’t want to get put into fourth in the last mile again. I was elated seeing the split toward the finish line, running at what felt like a sprint. I checked my shoulder when I took the last turn into the finish chute and no one was around. I breathed a sigh of relief and eased off the gas to take in the finish, knowing I had just put down one heck of a performance. I could barely believe it when I saw 4:03 on the clock crossing the finish line. It made it all the better having Colin there to welcome me in.

Swim: 26:47 (1st Age Group – 4th Overall)

Bike: 2:06:42 (1st Age Group – 1st Overall)

Run: 1:26:49 (6th Age Group – 22nd Overall)

Overall: 4:03:57 (2nd Age Group – 3rd Overall)