Oceanside race report

2010 Ironman California 70.3
Race Report #1: 3/27/10

Background

This half-Ironman was to be my first race of the 2010 triathlon season and marked my return to Long Course Triathlon racing. With my “off-season” of 2009, I had not raced a LC race since August of 2008 when I finished Ironman Canada. This 19-month hiatus was the longest such span since I did my first LC race back in 2002.

I have chosen to dedicate the 2010 season to a return to LC racing. My principle goals were to: 1. qualify for and race the Ironman World Championship in Kona; 2. finish two IM races and set a new PB time (11:19:22); and 3. finish at least three half-IMs and set a new PB time (4:43:14). As I set these goals in late October of 2009, I was about 30 pounds over my LC racing weight (163 pounds) and many months removed from the serious training regime I’d need to have a shot at achieving these goals.

To get back to LC fitness I designed a 12-month training program that was broken into three “Meso” training cycles:

Meso Cycle One: 11/1/09-3/27/10

The focus of this cycle was to “Reach a level of LC fitness that will allow me to be competitive at IM California 70.3.” My “A” race for this cycle was naturally IM Cali70.3 where I wanted to deliver a “low 5 hour performance” and qualify for Hawaii. During this period I wanted to really focus on my run during training with secondary emphasis on the swim. The bike, my natural strength was to take a back seat.




Meso Cycle Two: 3/28/10-7/4/10

My objective during this cycle is to peak and reach true IM fitness. My “A” race for this cycle is the IM European Championship in Germany. Here my goal is to go sub 11 hours for the first time. My training during this cycle is a classic IM build with heavy emphasis on both the run and the bike with the swim moving into more of a maintenance cycle.

Meso Cycle Three: 7/5/10-11/7/10

Here the objective is to maintain my LC fitness and achieve a second peak at either IM Hawaii or IM Florida. If I were to qualify for Hawaii then my plan is to just savor the experience and cruise to as comfortable a finish as I can muster. If my last “A” race of 2010 was to be IM Florida then a new PB would be on the agenda. The training emphasis during this cycle would be very similar to Cycle Two—after I had recovered from IM Germany.

The Training

The principle design objective of my focus on only short-course racing in 2009 was to give my body and more importantly my mind a break from the rigors of LC training and racing. Frankly, after IM Canada in August 2008 I was burned out from racing 6 IMs in 45 months and 2 IMs in 7 weeks. I had a fun time just racing shorties in 2009 and in the fall of 2009 I felt I was ready to jump back into the LC scene.

I was soon pleased to find that I was very ready and willing to jump back in with both feet. I was able to quickly ramp up my training volume and as I watched my diet the weight melted off and by the end of December I found myself back under 170 pounds and beginning to turn in 20+ hour training weeks.

My training intensity was at a par, and some cases higher than my breakthrough year of 2007 when I worked with Peter Reid and set all of my PBs. However, unlike that year, I vowed to take a more balanced and less “monk-like” orientation to my training and lifestyle in general. While I was very committed to the training, I was also getting out and enjoying friends and family and attending my fair-share of various “festive” gatherings. This new approach seemed to be working as at the time of this RR I am still very eager and hungry to pursue my objectives for 2010—after five months of hard training that is a very good sign indeed.

As to the specifics, I was putting in about 40,000 yards a month in the pool. This is about 20-25% lower than 2007 but with the techniques improvements that I have made since then I felt like I was swimming just as strong if not stronger than the 2007 benchmark. I felt very prepared coming into Oceanside.

With the relative de-emphasis on the bike I knew I was still quite a ways from real LC bike fitness. I was putting in 700-800 miles/month (versus 1000 that is ideal) and with the challenging weather this winter, most of it was indoors and sometimes lacking in quality. I decided the mental cost of really pushing indoors was going to be too high. In the last few weeks before Oceanside I was able to get outside a number of times and do the 50-80 mile rides that I had been lacking so I knew that I would be all right for this race—if not as fast as past standards.

I really tried to hit the run hard during this period. My knee acted up for a while but with another round of injections I was able to do pretty well averaging in the 120-150 mile/month range. Not quite at 2007 levels but pretty close. I also did much more early season speed work than I ever have. I was able to set a new PB at the Icicle 10 miler and came very close at the B&A half-marathon. My two 5k races were disappointing but I felt like I had the run tools to do a credible job in this race.

The Competitive Landscape

The 50-54 year-old AG at Oceanside is an incredibly difficult place to try to qualify from. First off, in 2010, there were 207 people entered all competing for one (that’s right, one!) Kona slot. Further, if you are a stud California triathlon type (the kind of guy who lives in San Diego or LA) then this is your hometown race and the one you gun for to get to Kona. So these Cali guys train all winter (because they can—it’s nice out) and they show up ready to kill. I’m not the type of guy to say no chance but realistically I have no chance against this elite group—frankly, it’s probably the hardest place to qualify for Hawaii as an age-grouper.

So I needed a plan B (just in case!). Fortunately, I had one: Ironman XC or the Executive Challenge. As it turned out there were just six executives entered (versus a capacity of twelve). I turned out to be the second oldest of the bunch and probably the fourth fastest (at least on paper). Two slots were available to the XC group. The next youngest guy after me was a fellow named Paul Gompers (age 46) who among other things is the current junior (under 20) American record holder for the marathon (2:15), a former US Olympic Team member, and a 28-minute 10k/13 minute 5k guy and in his first year as a triathlete a 4:10 half-IM guy at Clearwater.

Despite this, a golden opportunity was presented to me in this XC competition. The split was made at 50 years old so I just had to race one other gentleman for our slot. My competitor here was an outstanding triathlete, Preston Miller, who is the founder of the Tri-Scottsdale Club. Preston has completed over 150 triathlons and on an age adjusted basis is a much better triathlete than I am. However, his race age is 65 and given that, I in this race, had a very good opportunity to secure a Kona slot. That said, I still had to beat him and that is what I set out to do.

Pre-Race

This was a different “A” race, pre-race situation. First I traveled with Alex down to Kissimmee, FL (one of the most depressing places in the world) for his high school LAX team’s pre-season training. I was a “helping-out” dad. This was great fun and useful from a tapering perspective. The total lack of any place to swim for five days was decidedly not what I wanted, but oh well!

Wednesday morning of race week I flew to LA and stayed at Anders’ fine LA pad. Very nice visiting him and then on Thursday morning (after a dawn patrol in the Pacific) I headed the 85 miles south to Oceanside, CA. Here I collected my bike from Tri-Bike Transport and did all the usual pre-game stuff to get my bike ready to rock.

On Thursday night I met up with all of the XC competitors and finally met my Hawaii challenger. Preston turned out to be a truly great guy. He’s been doing triathlons forever and among other things founded the Scottsdale Triathlon Club—where many famous triathletes reside. Preston had a calm gentlemanly demeanor and I sensed that he was going to be happy with whatever happened. He was just pleased to be here, and to be a very fit and competitive triathlete.

I reflected, on Thursday night, that I probably needed to mature a bit and become more like him. Not so overtly competitive. Preston reminds me of Rob Holmes, a great NJ triathlete whom I much admire and respect. They are both very capable (indeed dominant in their AGs) and with an impressive resumes. They also possessed the perspective of having been just about everywhere in the Tri world and done just about everything. This I think should be a personal growth objective for me over the next few years…. But not now. Right now I need to crush Preston’s Kona dreams and secure the Kona slot for my own! (you can’t expect me to change over night!)

On Friday, Anders joined me at my hotel and I went through my final pre-race preparations. All was ready and while I was nervous, I was quite confident that I had enough of a fitness delta to get the job done.

I went to bed at 10 and was up at 12, 12:30, 1…I was really nervous and thinking through all sorts of scenarios. One of the most troubling was “Dead Man’s Curve”. This is a section on the bike course at around 40 miles where there is a very sharp descent followed by a sharp left turn. They enforce a 25 mph speed limit. Despite this, when the Oceanside race was a full IM about 8 years ago, someone crashed and died on this descent. (And it was called “Deadman’s Curve” before this!). Why do we have to race on something with a “Deadman’s Curve”? I like triathlon but I really like my life now. I’m in a tremendous place now with my family, professionally and from a health perspective. I don’t want to throw it all away on a silly Deadman’s Curve!

Later I have this clear epiphany that this race represents an unbelievable opportunity for me to get to Kona. I realize that I should not take it for granted or dismiss it lightly. I probably will NEVER have another chance like this one. I sit up in bed and think I HAVE to make this happen. There is no place for failure. No matter what, I must get the slot today!

And so it went. All night long. Thankfully the alarms (all 4 of them) went off at 4 am and finally, it was time to get ready for the big show!



Race Morning

Ate my usual PB&J and drank my coffee as well as performed all of my normal pre-game activities. Ushered Anders from the horrendous sleeper-sofa he slept on to the relative comfort of my bed. Left the hotel at 5 a.m. and rode over to the race start which was about a mile away. It was still nighttime dark and surprisingly breezy. The forecast called for light and variable winds at the start but it was blowing at 15+ mph out of the east. It also was surprisingly cold—probably 42/43 degrees but it felt a lot cooler with the wind.

I set-up my transition area fairly quickly. With lucky number 77 (thank-you XC!) I was racked at the end of a rack right next to the pros. I chatted a bit with Sam McGlone, whom Anders and I had trained with quite a bit a couple of springs back. I was very cold and when I ran into Anders I asked him to go back to the hotel and retrieve my long-sleeve bike jersey, which he nicely did.

We were ushered out of transition as the male pros started at 6:40. I joined the masses in a long starting corral. I tried to think happy thoughts and waited for the start of the 11th wave that us 50-54 YO dinos were starting in. I waved to Anders as my wave was called and walked down the boat ramp ready to do battle.

The Swim

This was the first time I was actually able to get on the swim course as it was prohibited to swim in the Oceanside harbor prior to race morning. I had 3 minutes to swim the 100 yards or so to the start line and I used the swim to throw a couple of hard pulls in to get my HR up. The water was somewhere between 59-61 degrees but it frankly felt perfectly fine. I had a surplus of nervous energy and was revved and ready to go.

They made an announcement that we were 45 seconds from the start so I started my watch (to avoid having to start it when the gun went off). When the gun went off I quickly glanced at the watch and saw 37 seconds. My race was on!

I started on the far right, away from the buoy line and right next to the boats moored along the harbor’s edge. Having swum with Preston the day before I was confident I could put 5+ minutes on him in the swim so I wanted to be conservative. It made sense to me to avoid contact (and the small chance of something happening that could cost me my race) and so I went way right.

I had clean water and felt outstanding right from the start. I concentrated on finding a nice smooth, long stroke. I could sense I was moving at a nice clip by the feel of the water moving past my head. The first turn was a full 300 yards away and the sightlines were easy as the sun had begun to peak above the coastal mountains behind us.

I hit the first turn, giving ample berth to the buoy and continued merrily on my way. I was swimming strong, at a conservative effort (maybe 95% of normal H-IM race effort), and several feet away from anyone else. I was swimming a longer track and forgoing a helping draft but I was convinced that this conservative approach was the right call for me in this race.

Finally I hit the first of two left turns out at the breakwater end of the harbor. I did not look at my watch but it sure seemed like the course was long (in retrospect, I think it was probably well measured and my subjective experience was mostly a function of my long sabbatical from LC racing).

As we headed back from the second sharp left turn we were coming straight into a very low sun that was blasting off the water. I completely lost sight of the course ahead of me—the sun was blinding! However, my navigation task was still relatively easy as I just concentrated on staying in between the edge of other swimmers to my left and the rocky breakwater to my right. Having eyeballed the course the day before, I felt like the right side of the course on this in-bound track was actually the shorter and faster path than that of the buoy line. I think I did a reasonably good job of swimming straight but who really knows given the lack of visibility. Increasingly I was weaving between slower swimmers from prior waves and becoming convinced that I was having an excellent swim. I still was swimming conservatively.

I made the only right turn at the edge of the pier/dock and drove the last 300 yards towards swim exit. Finally I was on the boat ramp and up and out of the water. I stopped my watch as I exited the water and recorded a 33:07 (after adjusting for the 37 seconds that it ran before the start). I was thrilled with this time. I had swum very easy and yet had recorded my 4th best (out of 13 races) H-IM time. For comparison here are my top 5 H-IM swim times:

1. Eagleman 2007 32:45
2. IM70.3 Worlds 2006 32:59
3. Devilman 2006 33:01
4. Oceanside 2010 33:07
5. Gulf Coast 2008 33:44

Upon reflection, I’m pretty confident I could have gone at least a minute faster and I’m guessing I’ll have a good chance to set a personal swim best latter this year when I race more aggressively.

I averaged 1:34/100 (I have been targeting 1:32/100 in my recent swim training) and had an average HR of 152—perfect!

Since Preston was in the wave behind me I had no idea of how this swim faired in my Kona competition—and I wouldn’t learn until almost three hours latter. However I finished 25th out of 161 (86 %-tile) in my AG. Overall, I was 507th out of 2171 (77 %-tile)—I’m very pleased with this result and where my swim is so far this year!

Transition One

I ran up the ramp and immediately began fiddling with my tri top (Desoto T-1). I got it off about a third of the way into the very long (at least 200 yards) chute that delivers you to the back of the transition area. Then I reversed direction and ran all the way back to the front of T-1 where my bike was racked.

I made a decision to not put my long-sleeve on and just race in my tri-suit—I was feeling quite warmed up. My transition was uneventful and since I didn’t see Preston I at least knew that Preston had not significantly out-swam me. My total T1 was 4:19 and during this time my HR averaged 165 bpm.

The Bike

The bike at Oceanside is the course’s showcase segment. It has something for everyone: flats, twists and turns, bumpy pavement, rollers, big climbs, and bomber descents. Since it is mostly set inside the confines of the Pendleton military base, it is also a course that you can’t do any pre-race recon on. I’d read enough to know it was challenging. I set my bike up to reflect these challenges and be as conservative as I could. I swapped my 55/42 rings for a 54/39 and replaced the 11/23 with a 12/26 on the back. This reduced my smallest gear by 18%. I also chose to ride clinchers (to avoid non-recoverable issues with tubulars)—these were also a 404/808 set-up as opposed to my usual 1080/disc in case of strong winds. For further measure, I carried a spare tire, 3 tubes, 3 CO2s, 3 irons and two separate bike tools—I wanted to be ready for anything that could possibly threaten a DNF. My motto for this ride was “NO DRAMA!”

So provisioned I set off on my 56-mile ride. Upon climbing a steep but short hill leaving the harbor we almost immediately entered the base at the Del Mar gate. The next few miles entailed weaving through some of the back-roads and parking lots of the base—dodging potholes and speed bumps. There were lots of other cyclists around so a great deal of concentration was required. We passed under I-5 and begin to parallel the coast (the views were fantastic) along a series of roads for almost 15 miles or so. This was pretty flat for the most part. There was a slight breeze from the NE so we had a bit of a headwind but it seemed nothing like how it was blowing before dawn.

I felt good and just focused on keeping my HR at or slightly below 150 bpm (normally I’d target 155-156). I was at 22.2 miles (2:31 pace) despite all the busy-ness of the first 5 miles and the slight headwind. This was all the confirmation I needed and I vowed again to stick to my conservative race plan. I was generally passing other riders although occasionally one would pass me. I don’t recall seeing many guys in my AG but this is because I wasn’t focused on my AG competition in this race—I only had eyes for Preston. Speaking of which, at one point in the first hour—about 10 miles in there was a small out and back—about 1.7 miles—which I did in about 9 minutes and I did not see Preston. With my 4-minute wave-head-start this meant that I was at least 5 minutes ahead at this point. I felt good about this and very confident in my race strategy.

I turned east off of the Trestles bike path at around 24 miles or so and as we climbed the first real tester of a hill I also became aware of an increasing wind. The next few miles were through beautiful, verdant rolling hills and it became noticeably warmer and windier. I was thankful for not wearing a long-sleeve. I was also into my second bottle of Gatorade. I had also consumed two packs of Cliff Blocks and downed 12 Enduralytes at this point in the bike.

At 30 miles the first major hill climbed up and out of sight into the coastal mountains. I geared all the way down and tried to hold a steady 230-270 watts. This resulted in 5-7 mph/50-60 rpm in my smallest gear—frankly I would have geared down more if I could have. It was a long climb but I felt very comfortable. I knew I could go faster so I just bided my time and looked around at the sights (marching marines, tanks, helicopters, etc.).

At the top of the hill I jumped up and attacked the downhill—that is until I reached 44.5 mph at which point I sat up to play it safe. The next 7-8 miles were very difficult biking. The sun was baking now and the wind was quite strong—certainly over 20 mph. This section was rolling but featured a net elevation gain of 600 feet or so. I spent a lot of time in the 10-15 mph zone—still passing people however. At one point I heard a loud “bang” and looked down expecting to see a flat but all I had heard was the retort of an artillery round and I would soon hear many more.

As I finally climbed another very tough hill I knew that my potential nemesis was fast approaching. As I peaked the hill I looked at a long smooth descent twisting down through the mountains. I was now in the speed limit zone on Basilone Road and I carefully adhered to the 25-mph limit. This was not a universal approach however and quite a few folks flew on by. Finally, there it was: Deadman’s Curve. As I negotiated the sweeping left turn it immediately occurred to me that it was way over-rated. I’ve descended through a lot more technically demanding curves than this one in my career. I gave a silent thanks to the big guy in the sky and smiled. The biggest obstacles of the bike course were now behind me.

The next 5-6 miles on Basoline featured quite a bit more climbing and a rolling ride along an exposed ridge where we were buffeted my strong, gusty crosswinds. It was quite challenging to control the bike (I could feel the tail of my aero-helmet getting pushed around!)—Thank goodness for the 404/808 wheel set.

Finally at about 46 miles or so we turned west onto Vandegrift and the crosswinds became a tailwind. The next seven miles or so were an absolute blast as the road was smooth, modestly downhill and with a strong tailwind. Here I was routinely pushing 30-35 mph and getting increasingly excited about avoiding any bike drama.

I crossed under I-5 again and retraced the first 3 or so miles of the course and soon found my self cruising back into the harbor area along side the start of the run course. I rode up the long, narrow bike chute to the back of T-2, dismounted and began the long awkward jog through T-2. My total bike time was 2:43:44. My SRM measured a bike course of 56.72 miles and an average speed of 20.8 mph. My average watts were 174 with an average cadence of 74 rpm. My HR averaged 148 bpm.

All of the above performance data are more like a training ride than a race for me. I’m routinely in the 220-230 watts zone and mid 2:20s time-wise for a half-IM bike ride. My HR typically averages a good 5-7 bpm higher. This difference is attributable to several things (in order of importance): 1. The tactical race that I pursued today—no drama; 2. my current level of bike fitness, which is about 4-8 weeks away from peak; and 3. my bike set-up, which was not optimized for speed. Naturally, the course itself contributed to the slow speed and this ride is in-fact the slowest half-Ironman ride that I’ve had to date.

Competitively, I had the 20th fastest in my AG (88 %-tile) and 443rd OA (80 %-tile). Only 3 guys in my AG broke 2:30. My guess is that if I had gone for it on this course today I could have gone 7-10 minutes faster but none of that was going through my mind as I was pretty confident that I had put more time on Preston during the bike.

Transition Two

I made the long run up to the front of transition and made the turn into my rack. I was pleasantly surprised to see Anders there in transition and he was calling out encouragement and snapping pictures. He reported the following info vis-à-vis Preston:

Swim: RC 10:00 faster than Preston

T1: RC 2:01 faster than Preston

I was not surprised but was relieved to get confirmation that I had left T1 with a 12:01 lead. I guessed that I was probably 20+ minutes ahead after the bike and I knew that barring a total meltdown, Kona was in my grasp. (The actual data was that I had out-biked Preston by only 6:19 and out transitioned him by 1:00 so I was leaving T2 with a lead of 19:20).

Anders continued to encourage me and admonished me to be very conservative on the run—“only 13 miles and Kona is yours!” Having finished my transition activities, I jumped up, high fived him and headed out for the final leg. My total transition time as 2:22 and an average HR of 151.

The Run

On my training runs over the last couple of weeks I had thought about this moment—I imagined leaving T2 with a big lead, feeling strong, and only having to race an easy pace to the finish and my Kona slot. Here it was really happening.

I decided to try to run around 8:30 miles (1:51-1:52 pace). I figured this was about as fast as I felt Preston could possibly run. I felt like I was capable of running mid 1:45s (my PR is 1:38:01 at the White Lake Half) so this seemed like a very safe pace. As I ran out of the finishing straight I realized that in my excitement at seeing Anders I had forgot to take my Enduralytes. I had a little panicky feeling and I scanned my body for the telltale early warning signals of potential cramping. I felt OK but this just reinforced the need to go easy and avoid a meltdown.

I hit the first mile mark in 8:02 with an average HR of 152. It felt really easy and my HR was a good 8 beats below the limit I had in mind (160 bpm). During the first mile I discovered that due to high tides, this year we would not have to run down on the sandy section, which I was very pleased about. I also noticed in the glaring sun and the protected area by the beach there seemed to be no breeze (there actually was a light tailwind from the north). It all of a sudden seemed very warm—certainly much warmer than in DE during our horrible winter!

I backed off the pace as I hit the Strand and passed mile 2 with an 8:24 (157 bpm). The Strand was packed with lots of folks out enjoying one of the nicest beach days of what here-to-for had been a cool and rainy winter. As I climbed up and away from the Strand to a hillier road parallel to the Strand the temperature seemed to jump dramatically. I felt fine but I made sure I stopped at each aid station and drank a glass or two of fluid.

Miles 3 (8:27/159) and 4 (8:32/160) came and went as I hit the turn-around of this two-lap out and back course. I was into the breeze now, which I was thankful for and focused on my HR, which despite my slowing pace was beginning to climb. At the turnaround I checked my watch and began looking for Preston so I could have up-to-date tactical information.

Mile 5 clocked in at 8:35/160 and I was aware of growing dehydration and the early signs of cramping. I still hadn’t seen Preston which told me I was either well over 20 minutes ahead or I had somehow missed him. In any event I decided to back off the pace a bit more.

Mile 6 was 8:50/156 and I hit the halfway point at around 52 minutes. I still had not seen Preston and concluded that I probably had missed him (which was true) or he was having a difficult day. While I continued to look for him I was convinced that I just needed to jog it home. I was now growing physically uncomfortable—I was getting very dehydrated being non-acclimated to the heat and my leg muscles were beginning to ache from the pounding of the mostly concrete run surface.

Mile 7 was 8:56/157 and mile 8 9:04/154. When I again didn’t see Preston I backed it down further as my legs felt like they might cramp. I was thankful I had started conservatively and that I had a big lead—I was just trying to conserve and get across the finish line. Miles 9 through 12 were quite slow: 9:31/152, 9:54/151; 9:59/148; 10:14/148 but I felt under control as I let my HR fall into the low aerobic zone. I was chatting with people and enjoying the scenery as I tried to take my mind off of my aching legs and parched mouth.

When I hit 12 I picked it up and went through 13 with a 9:18/153 and made the final turn down the finishing straight. I cruised mostly by myself and waved to Greg Welch (we had dinner and breakfast with him earlier) and smoothed it home across the line. My run time was 1:58:30 and my overall time was 5:22:04.

I saw Anders almost immediately and he congratulated me and confirmed that I had my Kona slot. I said: “Really? I never saw him”. He then told me that I was 20 minutes ahead after T2 and had pulled away from him on the run. In fact I would win the slot by 33:17. AG wise I was 47th (71st %-tile) and OA 906th (58th %-tile). While I could have gone faster, it would not had been without risk as I was quite dehydrated and close to cramping. I finished 29th (83 %-tile) overall in my AG and 571st (74 %-tile) for the whole field.

None of that mattered as I collected my finisher medal and hat and reflected that I was indeed going to race at Kona—after dreaming about it for 29 years (ever since Julie Moss). I was pretty matter-of-fact about it I guess because I was confident entering the race and I was pretty aware of what was going on tactically throughout the day.


Post Race

Anders helped me pack up and we rode together back to our hotel. After helping me a bit in the room, he packed up and went back up to LA. I put all my stuff in my car and dropped my bike at TBT. I attended the XC race dinner and received a pretty impressive first place award for the over 50 crowd. Paul Gompers won his AG outright so he’s going to Kona as well as is the fellow who finished second in the under 50 race. Further good news was that Preston was going as well as he won his AG slot.

I left the award dinner early and dove up to LA and hung with Anders Saturday night and all day Sunday—we had a great time. On Monday I flew back and began to turn my thoughts to Meso cycle two and the build for IM Germany in July. Of-course, I have IM New Orleans 70.3 on 4/18 to deal with first—but that’s a story for another day.

So this was race was a big success. I nailed my Kona slot. I didn’t go very fast but I didn’t need nor try to. I have plenty of races left in 2010 to do so. It was a well-run race on a fantastic course—I’d definitely do it again. The XC people were fantastic and of-course Anders support was the best thing about the whole experience—just like old times—the only thing that could have been better has been if his knee had allowed him to race along side me. Maybe next time!