So, I promised a race report, didn't I? My coach, AJ, reminded me yesterday that I still hadn't done one. Sorry about that. In all honesty, though, it has taken me this long to really process it all and put it into the proper perspective. Of course, the 4 days on St. Croix diving and sun-worshiping afterwards may have compounded it all.

Anyhoo, I've already posted about the problems I had in getting down there with all my gear and my bike. When I opened my bike case, I honestly thought my race was completely shot. Waiting to see if they could fix it, I ran into Mike and Mel from Boulder. They were down there supporting one of his athletes and didn't realize I was there as well. Mike was able to boost my spirits some. Thankfully, they were able to fix the hanger for the derailleur and make my bike rideable, given that there were no rentals left on the entire island. That evening, we took it easy. Had dinner at the house before pktaxwench gave me a sleep aid and ordered me to bed. It actually worked out. I slept straight through from 9 till 4 the next morning.

The next morning, we leave the house by 4:30. Transition opens at 5, with the racers having to be out to the cay by 6:00 for the first waves going off at 6:30. Get transition set up and check out the bike. Everything seems okay. Go for a quick jog to warm up and then hop into the harbor. The water is warm. Glad I decided to forgo the wetsuit. I then get in a little bit more of a warm-up during the 1/4 mi swim out to the cay. Time for the swim.

Swim

After swimming out to Castaway Cay, we're on the beach just killing time. There's a lot of nervous energy in the air. Everyone is worried about the climb over "The Beast" on the ride. Soon enough, though, 6:30 rolls by and the pros are off. My wave is then in the water, awaiting our start. 6:35 comes up and we're off.

Out in the water, I have a sudden surge of confidence. There's no surf to speak of and the water is just about perfect. I'm then reminded that it is an ocean swim, so I don't even really notice a lack of buoyancy. The swim itself is pretty uneventful. Swim out towards the open ocean, turn at the buoy to head back in towards the fort. Along the way, you notice divers below at the various buoys, making sure no one is in distress. Soon enough we're back at the waterfront, swimming along the fort back to transition. I get out of the water and run into transition, feeling very good and strong. I'd been told by other racers that this was one of the hardest Half's in the world, but so far I was feeling great.

Bike

After grabbing my gear in transition, I head out on the bike. We started the ride by heading east out of Christiansted and then turning south towards the center of the island. So far, things are going well. Then you hit the first of the many climbs of the day. This climb isn't too bad, only 6% - 8% grade. Then you head back into Christiansted for a short jaunt through the old town followed by the ride west towards Cane Bay and eventually "The Beast".

The ride west isn't bad. Oh, there's a couple of tight turns and some rollers, but I'm feeling good and strong. What I had forgotten was that we were on the leeward side of the island, so there was almost no wind. What little there was was all tailwinds. Soon enough I was passing Cane Bay, and my mind wandered to the diving I would be doing the next two days off of those shores. My mind didn't have far to wander, though: not long after passing Cane Bay we were at the foot of the big climb. What we all thought was the big moment had come. No longer was this some far-off fear in the back of our minds. Nope, it was now a very real challenge we had to surmount.

Everyone who was doing this ride was talking about "The Beast". "The Beast" is a 0.7 mi climb averaging 17% grade. Read: steep, sustained climb. What you forget is that this is the "average" grade. The climb actually reached 22% in some areas. The worst part? To start the climb you had to make a hard left turn, so there was no run-up for you to build up the momentum. This hurt. A lot of the racers were getting off their bikes to walk up much of it. For me, riding up Flagstaff had paid off and I was able to make it all the way up, albeit rather slowly. Sooner I thought I was over to the other side of the island. That was when my troubles started.

After the climb, we were on the south side of the island. The windward side. We turned east for the longest single leg: 15-20 miles into the wind. I still had 5-6 climbs of 5%-10% grade to go. It was at this point that my bike decided to give me troubles. More specifically, my rear derailleur. Long story short: for the second half of the ride, I lost the ability to get into my easy gears for the climbs. By the last climb before the descent into Christiansted my legs were shot and locking up. I have never felt this in a race, not even at Wisconsin. So, I was very grateful to pull into transition, but I was dreading the run.

Run

At first, I'm just happy to be done with that bike. Thankfully, I had a fresh pair of socks to change into. Throw on my running shoes and race belt, grab a quick shot of gel for the run. $hit: forgot my hat. Oh, well. Nothing to do now. I head out on the run and see Pete. "How ya doing Joe?" "I'm hurting, but I'll finish this."

For the first lap of the run, I actually do okay. I'm taking things pretty measured: run a mile, then recover for a half mile. Heading out of The Buccaneer, I see someone new at transition: Chris McCormack. Also known as Macca, Chris has finished his race and is manning the aid station with the other volunteers. This is why I love this sport. Anyhoo, I make it back into town and start my second lap. Still doing okay, I hit the first climb on the run outside of town. At this point, my whole race falls apart. My legs are completely shot, and I slow to a walk. Stubborn me, though, is determined to finish. I'm finally passed heading out of The Buccaneer again by Mike's athlete (I feel so bad, having spaced her name). She cheers me on, along with Macca. It's funny how something so simple gave me enough of a boost to finish the last 2 miles. Amazingly enough, I was able to dig into some final reserve to run/jog the last 0.5 mi and sprint the finish.

After finishing, I'm just happy to be done. Mike was good enough to have waited to see me finish. I realize my arms are pretty burned. The next day, I would find some blisters on my shoulders. Thos cold sponges, while great, take the sunscreen right off. I head into the tent to get some cold towels. Those really helped to cool me off. After gathering my gear, we head back to the house. I was SO looking forward to that dip in the pool.

Final Thoughts

This race really humbled me. I will say this was the most difficult one I have completed to date. But I don't regret it. This year so far had finally caught up to me before heading down for the race. Between family and everything else, I had lost focus. I was just going through the motions since Christmas. The race, while challenging and painful, helped put me back into the frame of mind I need to be in. Big thanks to Pete, pktaxwench and Mike for supporting me.

As for others thinking about this race, I highly recommend it. The island truly loves the race, out there supporting everyone on the course. I don't think I've ever seen such a high ratio of volunteers to athletes. The support rivals what I saw last year in Madison, and that's saying something. Just be aware of what you're in for.