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<p><strong><span style="font-size:14pt;">Whisky Dick Triathlon Race Report</span></strong></p>
<p><strong>Vantage to Ellensburg, WA</strong></p>
<p><strong>August 1, 2010</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Background</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Our two week vacation this year began with the ChelanMan half iron race (an 8-minute PR), followed by a couple days of camping, a hotel in Leavenworth, more camping, a couple days with friends, more camping, and finally two days of racing in the small farm/college town of Ellensburg, WA. Saturday morning I did the local sprint tri and Sunday was the infamous Whisky Dick triathlon. This is one of the oldest triathlons in the northwest and in the early days of the sport it was a qualifier for Kona. In modern times, the brutality of the race has been toned down a little by shortening the run from 8 or 9 miles to a standard 10k and moving the start time up to avoid the worst heat of the day (I think it used to start mid- to late-morning, but could be wrong).</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Back to that part about the brutality of the race…Whisky Dick is famous for one thing – the bike course. Starting on the banks of the Columbia River, the bike course climbs the Vantage Highway 12 miles up out of the canyon (yes, it’s 12 miles uphill) followed by 16 miles into a headwind along a straight, flat road into town. Oh, and did I mention the heat? This is not a course for the weak-legged or the faint of heart. Many folks use this race as a final tune-up before Ironman</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">Canada</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">The race was organized this year by BuDu Racing, who always does a great job, their only downfall being a propensity to believe that the single public toilet at a race venue will be sufficient to handle 150 racers and an equal number of spectators and volunteers. Otherwise they run a flawless operation. The day began with a bus ride from town to the river, the normal amount of milling around after T1 is set up, and finally a short walk through gravel and nasty mud (note to self, next time bring throwaway shoes) to the swim start.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="H-lightbox-open" href="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/51481/width/1000/height/800/flags/" target="_blank"><img alt="Whisky_Dick_1.JPG" class="lightbox-enabled" data-id="12959" data-type="61" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/12959/width/666/height/500" style="; width: 666px; height: 500px"></a></p>
<p><em>Yep, that's pretty much what most of the course looked like.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Swim</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">I was a bit nervous despite the calm, clear, water of perfect swimming temperature. In the sprint race the day before I’d taken a hit to the noggin just as I was breathing and for the first time in nearly two dozen races had felt truly rattled in a “I seriously almost drowned right there” type of way. But today I had my wetsuit on, and knowing I could at least flip over and float while drowning helped a lot. We counted down and then the whole big bunch of us (97 men and 34 women) took off for the first buoy.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">As is often the case, the nervousness vanished after 10 or so arm strokes, and with the usual bumps and thumps I settled into a pretty good swim. I had to stop a couple times to get my bearings and a couple more to re-attach my Road ID wrist band, but the course was easy to navigate, being essentially a very long skinny rectangle that finishes on the boat ramp that T1 occupied. It was an actual mile swim, so just a tad longer than normal.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total swim time 30:34, almost exactly MOP. Not my best, but close enough.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Bike</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">After an uneventful T1, we were off to the main dish. I’d set my bike in 3<sup>rd</sup> gear, but immediately found myself shifting down to 1<sup>st</sup> as we eased our way up the boat ramp and onto the highway. I didn’t see 3<sup>rd</sup> gear again for quite some time.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">It’s far from the steepest hill around, averaging around 5% with steeper sections of maybe 7%, but 12 miles of that is plenty of time to weed out the folks who spent too much training time in the pool and not enough in the hills. I alternated between 1<sup>st</sup> gear and 2<sup>nd</sup> and between sitting and standing, often wishing I’d swapped cassettes for one with just one more cog. But I just plugged along, keeping it at “30 mile effort” and passing at least a dozen people while being passed by just a small few. It’s miles of scrub brush in every direction out there without a tree in sight. We passed through one area that had burned the day before after a storm touched off a small prairie fire and the stench of newly charred vegetation was awful. At the top of the hill I grabbed some water at the bottle exchange, noticed I was averaging 9 or 10 mph to that point, and started shifting into taller and taller gears.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">We had a mile or so of moderate downhill and I found myself screaming along in the 53/11 combo with side winds and a disc wheel. Crazy stuff. Then another mile uphill (what???!) before hitting the true flat. I buckled down and time-trialed it in with a death-grip on my aerobars to keep the bike under control. I spotted the family wagon on the side of the road a few miles later and smiled (sort of) for Rachel and the kids. I tried to wave, but at 26 mph couldn’t let go of the aerobars. Around the 20 mile mark I noticed my nether regions were starting to complain and I realized that at no point on the entire bike course had I coasted – it was literally non-stop pedaling from T1 to T2. By the 24 mile mark my privates were screaming, even to the point that it was affecting my pace. Man was I happy to see T2. I was also quite hungry at this point, which is when I realized just how utterly useless that Gatorade G2 crap is – it tastes good, but is worthless for refueling. Oops.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total bike time</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">1:41:42</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">for 15.3 mph, the 25<sup>th</sup> fastest bike of the bunch.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="H-lightbox-open" href="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/51485/width/1000/height/800/flags/" target="_blank"><img alt="Whisky_Dick_2.JPG" class="lightbox-enabled" data-id="12961" data-type="61" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/12961/width/666/height/500" style="; width: 666px; height: 500px"></a></p>
<p><em>Overtaking some guy who is either a fast swimmer or part of a relay (and was also blocking, forcing me to cross the centerline, shhh don't tell!).</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Run</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">T2 was staffed with over-worked volunteers who grabbed your bike and handed you the run gear bag you’d dropped off earlier. Kinda different, but seemed to work. I headed out with an empty stomach, but had been smart enough to toss a gel into my T2 bag, so knew I could suck that down after a mile or so of settling in. The course wound around a little before taking an out-and-back section of about a mile along a gravel powerline road. I started counting people on my way out and found myself in 25<sup>th</sup> position. It wasn’t long before I was dropped into 26<sup>th</sup>, but over the next few miles I managed to bring it back to 25<sup>th</sup> again. The course was nice, winding through quiet neighborhood streets where many of the homeowners and families were out cheering for the racers and even offering to spray us with hoses or sprinklers. A small hill at the 4 mile mark was daunting, although I’m sure it would seem almost trivial on a normal training run. Then it was downhill for the final 1.2 miles to the finish.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total run time 47:51 for</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">7:41</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">pace, 45<sup>th</sup> best of the group.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Post Race</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">I did the normal huffing and puffing and wobbling around on wet noodles, then found the nearest port-o-potty as I was feeling a bit gassy and didn’t trust it since I don’t normally feel that way after a race. Everything came out okay, though (ain’t bathroom humor great?). The community center allowed all racers to use the shower room, which felt terrific, then back out at the finish line I scored a slice of pizza and was in heaven. When the results were displayed, though, I was dismayed to find myself in 35<sup>th</sup> place! Apparently 10 people had completed the out-and-back portion of the run before I even got to it – how embarrassing.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">My post-race libation this time was a Diet Coke, as I had to be at work the next morning and we had a 5 hour drive home. Rachel graciously drove the entire thing, making up for me doing most of the other driving on the trip. The kids conked and I zoned in and out most of the way home.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total race time was</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">3:12:14</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">for 35<sup>th</sup> of 131 overall and 7<sup>th</sup> of 13 in my age group. Pretty damn competitive group, if you ask me!</span></p>
<p><strong>Vantage to Ellensburg, WA</strong></p>
<p><strong>August 1, 2010</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Background</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Our two week vacation this year began with the ChelanMan half iron race (an 8-minute PR), followed by a couple days of camping, a hotel in Leavenworth, more camping, a couple days with friends, more camping, and finally two days of racing in the small farm/college town of Ellensburg, WA. Saturday morning I did the local sprint tri and Sunday was the infamous Whisky Dick triathlon. This is one of the oldest triathlons in the northwest and in the early days of the sport it was a qualifier for Kona. In modern times, the brutality of the race has been toned down a little by shortening the run from 8 or 9 miles to a standard 10k and moving the start time up to avoid the worst heat of the day (I think it used to start mid- to late-morning, but could be wrong).</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Back to that part about the brutality of the race…Whisky Dick is famous for one thing – the bike course. Starting on the banks of the Columbia River, the bike course climbs the Vantage Highway 12 miles up out of the canyon (yes, it’s 12 miles uphill) followed by 16 miles into a headwind along a straight, flat road into town. Oh, and did I mention the heat? This is not a course for the weak-legged or the faint of heart. Many folks use this race as a final tune-up before Ironman</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">Canada</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">The race was organized this year by BuDu Racing, who always does a great job, their only downfall being a propensity to believe that the single public toilet at a race venue will be sufficient to handle 150 racers and an equal number of spectators and volunteers. Otherwise they run a flawless operation. The day began with a bus ride from town to the river, the normal amount of milling around after T1 is set up, and finally a short walk through gravel and nasty mud (note to self, next time bring throwaway shoes) to the swim start.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="H-lightbox-open" href="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/51481/width/1000/height/800/flags/" target="_blank"><img alt="Whisky_Dick_1.JPG" class="lightbox-enabled" data-id="12959" data-type="61" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/12959/width/666/height/500" style="; width: 666px; height: 500px"></a></p>
<p><em>Yep, that's pretty much what most of the course looked like.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Swim</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">I was a bit nervous despite the calm, clear, water of perfect swimming temperature. In the sprint race the day before I’d taken a hit to the noggin just as I was breathing and for the first time in nearly two dozen races had felt truly rattled in a “I seriously almost drowned right there” type of way. But today I had my wetsuit on, and knowing I could at least flip over and float while drowning helped a lot. We counted down and then the whole big bunch of us (97 men and 34 women) took off for the first buoy.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">As is often the case, the nervousness vanished after 10 or so arm strokes, and with the usual bumps and thumps I settled into a pretty good swim. I had to stop a couple times to get my bearings and a couple more to re-attach my Road ID wrist band, but the course was easy to navigate, being essentially a very long skinny rectangle that finishes on the boat ramp that T1 occupied. It was an actual mile swim, so just a tad longer than normal.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total swim time 30:34, almost exactly MOP. Not my best, but close enough.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Bike</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">After an uneventful T1, we were off to the main dish. I’d set my bike in 3<sup>rd</sup> gear, but immediately found myself shifting down to 1<sup>st</sup> as we eased our way up the boat ramp and onto the highway. I didn’t see 3<sup>rd</sup> gear again for quite some time.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">It’s far from the steepest hill around, averaging around 5% with steeper sections of maybe 7%, but 12 miles of that is plenty of time to weed out the folks who spent too much training time in the pool and not enough in the hills. I alternated between 1<sup>st</sup> gear and 2<sup>nd</sup> and between sitting and standing, often wishing I’d swapped cassettes for one with just one more cog. But I just plugged along, keeping it at “30 mile effort” and passing at least a dozen people while being passed by just a small few. It’s miles of scrub brush in every direction out there without a tree in sight. We passed through one area that had burned the day before after a storm touched off a small prairie fire and the stench of newly charred vegetation was awful. At the top of the hill I grabbed some water at the bottle exchange, noticed I was averaging 9 or 10 mph to that point, and started shifting into taller and taller gears.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">We had a mile or so of moderate downhill and I found myself screaming along in the 53/11 combo with side winds and a disc wheel. Crazy stuff. Then another mile uphill (what???!) before hitting the true flat. I buckled down and time-trialed it in with a death-grip on my aerobars to keep the bike under control. I spotted the family wagon on the side of the road a few miles later and smiled (sort of) for Rachel and the kids. I tried to wave, but at 26 mph couldn’t let go of the aerobars. Around the 20 mile mark I noticed my nether regions were starting to complain and I realized that at no point on the entire bike course had I coasted – it was literally non-stop pedaling from T1 to T2. By the 24 mile mark my privates were screaming, even to the point that it was affecting my pace. Man was I happy to see T2. I was also quite hungry at this point, which is when I realized just how utterly useless that Gatorade G2 crap is – it tastes good, but is worthless for refueling. Oops.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total bike time</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">1:41:42</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">for 15.3 mph, the 25<sup>th</sup> fastest bike of the bunch.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="H-lightbox-open" href="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/51485/width/1000/height/800/flags/" target="_blank"><img alt="Whisky_Dick_2.JPG" class="lightbox-enabled" data-id="12961" data-type="61" src="http://www.kickrunners.com/content/type/61/id/12961/width/666/height/500" style="; width: 666px; height: 500px"></a></p>
<p><em>Overtaking some guy who is either a fast swimmer or part of a relay (and was also blocking, forcing me to cross the centerline, shhh don't tell!).</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Run</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">T2 was staffed with over-worked volunteers who grabbed your bike and handed you the run gear bag you’d dropped off earlier. Kinda different, but seemed to work. I headed out with an empty stomach, but had been smart enough to toss a gel into my T2 bag, so knew I could suck that down after a mile or so of settling in. The course wound around a little before taking an out-and-back section of about a mile along a gravel powerline road. I started counting people on my way out and found myself in 25<sup>th</sup> position. It wasn’t long before I was dropped into 26<sup>th</sup>, but over the next few miles I managed to bring it back to 25<sup>th</sup> again. The course was nice, winding through quiet neighborhood streets where many of the homeowners and families were out cheering for the racers and even offering to spray us with hoses or sprinklers. A small hill at the 4 mile mark was daunting, although I’m sure it would seem almost trivial on a normal training run. Then it was downhill for the final 1.2 miles to the finish.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total run time 47:51 for</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">7:41</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">pace, 45<sup>th</sup> best of the group.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Post Race</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">I did the normal huffing and puffing and wobbling around on wet noodles, then found the nearest port-o-potty as I was feeling a bit gassy and didn’t trust it since I don’t normally feel that way after a race. Everything came out okay, though (ain’t bathroom humor great?). The community center allowed all racers to use the shower room, which felt terrific, then back out at the finish line I scored a slice of pizza and was in heaven. When the results were displayed, though, I was dismayed to find myself in 35<sup>th</sup> place! Apparently 10 people had completed the out-and-back portion of the run before I even got to it – how embarrassing.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">My post-race libation this time was a Diet Coke, as I had to be at work the next morning and we had a 5 hour drive home. Rachel graciously drove the entire thing, making up for me doing most of the other driving on the trip. The kids conked and I zoned in and out most of the way home.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:10pt;">Total race time was</span> <span style="font-size:10pt;">3:12:14</span><span style="font-size:10pt;">for 35<sup>th</sup> of 131 overall and 7<sup>th</sup> of 13 in my age group. Pretty damn competitive group, if you ask me!</span></p>
