Challenges in St. Andrews

It's no secret by this point that the 2013 season was a difficult one for me. There were days - too many, really - when I questioned my future as a triathlete.  Without retelling the entire story, I headed into the 2014 season looking (read: needing desperately) to change up the way I approached the sport. Part of my transformation has been to take a few risks and attempt races or distances that are outside of my comfort zone. I'd been focused on short course racing for years and 2014 was the time to branch out a bit and try something different. As I searched for races that met the criteria, I came across Challenge St. Andrews. I've always been intrigued by the Challenge Family model and have been eager to experience for myself the quality of their events. The events are incredibly popular in Europe, Asia, and Austraila, but have only just infiltrated the North American calendar. Saint Andrews, being a half distance event under the Challenge banner, certainly had what I was looking for in terms a change in distance and scenery. Through my work with Pumpkinman I was fortunate to have the opportunity to speak with the race organizers, Scott and Tressa Bevington, about their race throughout the winter. Scott and Tressa couldn't have been more genuine or kind and I knew that I needed to get myself to Canada to experience their event.

Selling the trip to Eileen wasn't difficult. Saint Andrews, New Brunswick is a beautiful small town set on Passamaquoddy Bay. The entire town is walkable and prior to visiting we heard that the shops and restaurants would provide entertainment before, during and after the event. As I said, it wasn't difficult to convince Eileen that this was the place we needed to visit. The town did not disappoint.

On the pier looking back toward town

The Saint Andrews Lighthouse

Water street which we would cover a number of times during the run

Apparently they still have pay phones in Canada! 

The host hotel and epicenter for the weekend, The Algonquin

With Hurricane Arthur bearing down on the Maritimes, Eileen and I retreated to our motel to ride out the storm. We, like almost everyone else, had been warned about the storm but had no idea the devastation it would bring to the coastal communities of Canada. When we woke on Saturday morning, it was clear that we were in for a long day. The power was out, we couldn't use our phones due to the international fees, we'd forgotten to bring books, magazines, a deck of cards, or anything that might provide even a few moments of entertainment. We were fortunate that a few restaurants had power so we could, at the very least, eat. And, desperate to make the most of our time in New Brunswick, we ventured out on the roads to visit the Ganong Chocolate museum and store in nearby St. Stephen. Needless to say, it was not a safe decision to be on the roads in the middle of such a strong storm. Of course, we were not completely surprised to find that the museum itself was closed when we arrived, though the store - thankfully - remained open. My love for Ganong chocolate began this spring in Boston when Tressa gave Eileen a box at the multisport expo. So we loaded up on chocolate and make the trek back to the motel where we would sit and listen to the wind and rain for the rest of the day.

When dinnertime rolled around we decided to check out the town just to assess the chances of the race actually being held the next morning. What we saw was devastation on every street in town.

Just steps from the venue. Every street had images just like this 

My reaction was that there was no way the race could possibly go on as planned. Even if the streets could be cleared in time, I was certain that the town and province would need to dedicate their resources toward recovery rather than to the race. My mind wandered to Scott and Tressa; the position they were in was every race director's worst nightmare. But, around the time power was restored at 7pm, we received notification that things were going forward as scheduled.

By morning I was pleasantly surprised to see clear sky and dry roads. Despite my reservations the day before, the event was going off as planned.

The swim at St. Andrews takes place in Katy Cove, a small and sheltered cove that offered perfect swim conditions. It was an absolutely stunning location for a swim and while I could write about it all day, I'd rather just do it justice by showing a picture.

Pre race warm up just after sunrise

I did something in Canada that you're never suppose to do in a race; I tried something new on race day. Weeks ago I'd finally made the switch to a ROKA wetsuit. After speaking with the owners in Kona last October I was convinced that I'd benefit from making the jump. My instinct was right. The suit is amazing and I'd recommend it to anyone - but most of all to strong swimmers. A lot of suits out there are designed in a way that just slaps a lot of rubber together in order to help poor swimmers stay afloat and in somewhat of a decent position. I don't need help with that, though. The ROKA suit was designed differently and allows people like me to keep a more natural body position and to generate better rotation.

Amateur men, myself included, seconds into the swim

The actual swim was, happily, uneventful. I started at the front and stayed there the entire way. I didn't get touched and made my way around the course effortlessly. I swam a solid 25:37 on the legitimate 1.2 mile course. That was good for the 6th best swim of the day including the pros and allowed me to be the second fastest amateur out of the water.

Swimming better than ever these days

From the water there is a 400 meter climb up to transition. We're talking a serious hill here, not just a gentle slope from the beach to a parking lot. It's brutal! Challenge, however, literally rolled out the red carpet so at least the footing wasn't a concern. 

Once on the bike I put my head down and got to work. The course literally did not have a flat spot over the course of 56 miles. According to my Garmin, we climbed about 3200 feet which was significantly more than I was planning on. My thoughts of a 2:21-2:23 bike split were out the window, but I thought I could still ride a decent split if I just stuck to my plan.

In the first 10 miles I was able to dial in my wattage and start to get in some Honey Stiner / Scratch Labs / Carbo-Pro. I had such a gap on the field after the swim that I was riding solo early on. Eventually, I caught the majority of the pro women (Rinny excluded). At about the same time, though, some of the stronger cyclists in the amateur filed started to make their way to the front of the race. As much as I wanted to give chase, I did not. I stayed on my wattage and raced my own race. By the end of the first lap I was sitting in about 7th place in the amateur race. I stayed there throughout the remained of the bike, but I lost time on the second lap. The winds kicked up along the highway and my 5'8" / 134 pound frame took a beating. The wind wasn't awful, but someone my size gets blown around a lot more than someone weighing 30-35 pounds more. I rolled back into transition having ridden exactly in the wattage range that I had planned for, but I had lost 8-9 minutes to the better cyclists. Still, I was excited about how things were going. While I knew going under 4:20 was no longer an option, I was excited for the run. My running ability and confidence are at an all time high this summer. I have been running exceptionally well and I was excited to put in on display. 

My plan on the run was to hold 6:40-6:50 through the first 8 or 9 miles and then run as hard as possible to the finish. That plan got off to a great start. In the first 5 miles I was right on schedule. By mile 6 I slowed a but, purposefully, as I climbed the hill back to transition. I still ran 7:05 for that mile and was able to drop back into the 6:50 range for mile 7. From there, though, things started to come apart. It didn't happen fast, but I knew I was in trouble if I continued to hold in the high 6 minute range. 

4 miles into the run and going strong

I backed off the pace to 7:00-7:05 through mile 11. Time had passed incredibly quickly during the first 8 miles. I was thanking every volunteer, I had a smile on my face, and I was just coasting. I was really enjoying myself and was running my way toward a decent finish. By mile 9 I was suffering. I knew I was stuck in the low 7:00 range for the duration. Every time I lifted the pace my legs screamed out and I had to back off. At this point damage control was the name of the game. Again, my plan to run in the 1:27 range was slipping away. With every step it seemed as though the clock ticked a bit slower. And I knew that it was only going to get worse as there was a 100 foot elevation gain in the final mile.

This pretty accurately describes how I was feeling at the time...

And soon enough I was. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fast. But it was done.

Already asking for directions to the massage tent...
Thankfully, Tressa and Scott personally pointed me in the right direction!

At the end of the day I ran a 1:30:06 and finished the day in 4:30. It wasn't awful, but it was far from what I am capable of laying down. The time was good enough for 15th overall and 7th amateur. Again, that's a very so-so performance relative to what I am capable of.  

Immediately after the race I was livid with myself. I had not raced to my potential and that's always my objective. I wasn't upset about the time or place - those things were secondary to my inability to perform to my potential. Eileen, who has been through this before, weathered the storm for about 5 minutes as I went off on myself. I broke all my own rules about not discussing the race for a few hours after a finish and for trying to be more positive about myself and my accomplishments. I was frustrated, disappointed, and embarrassed by my performance. It wasn't a terrible performance - far from it, really, but it also wasn't close to my potential, either. I still feel some of those things now,  but I should have handled things better after the race. It is just a race after all - something I tell myself often in training and racing, but lost sight of in the emotion of the moment. Fortunately, I was able to pull it together pretty quickly. Before long we were settled back in the motel room and I was able to begin the process of moving on. The chocolate helped.

Every race needs to start partnering with candy companies.
Actually, every race should just partner with Ganong.

After a very entertaining awards dinner complete with a live proposal on stage Eileen and I headed out to enjoy a little more time in town. We walked, shopped, and ate ice cream. Most importantly, we didn't talk about triathlon. 

Some last minute exploring in a beautiful town

The next morning when I awoke my first thought was of my upcoming race this Saturday not of toe one I'd just completed. The day was off to a good start.

It got even better when we took one last trip through the streets of the town. We were greater with even more incredible sights.

Goodbye, Canada!

On the way out of town we stopped one last time at Tim Hortons. It was then that I realized something important. Tim Hortons > Dunkin Donuts and to compare the two is unfair to Tim Hortons. As a matter of fact, I said I would only stop at exits that had a Tim Hortons the entire trip home. Unfortunately for me, that number was zero. Naturally, my next question was how to we get more of these things built in the States. Seriously.

While my personal performance in St. Andrews didn't meet my expectations, the race itself certainly did. Tressa, Scott and their team did an unbelievable job with the event under less than ideal circumstances. In every aspect, this is a world class race and I hope to see it emerge as a one of the must-do events in North America. The town is astonishing and the people who live there are amazing. Go and do this event. I promise, you will have a great experience.