Ironman 70.3 Jones Beach was shaping up to be a monster leading up to the race. Mother nature was planning to unleash hell.
Torrential downpours, 40mph winds, and 5 foot ocean swells. I smile, knowing that anybody else looking at that forecast has tears in their eyes. Looks like we’ll be in for quite the day.
Pre Race
My alarm clocks blasts off at 3am Saturday morning. My friends are still out partying from the night before, and I’m starting my day. Just another Saturday in the office…
Some folks dread the rain, hoping for perfect conditions on race day. I welcome Mother Nature’s sadistic streak. For me, endurance races have always been about growth. I try to put my body and mind into extremely difficult situations, hoping to learn more about who I am in the process. To wish for anything else would be antithetical to why I race in the first place.
I arrive for Ironman 70.3 Jones Beach at 5:30AM. Not a drop of rain in the clouds, but the hurricane winds are full force. There’s a certain stillness in the air… almost like you can feel the storm coming. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony: the remnants of a hurricane about to unleash as I embark on the hardest challenge of my life.
In spite of the conditions, this was a superbly organized race. The race director was in constant communication with athletes on changes to the course and how the weather could impact the race.
The Swim
I swam competitively for over ten years, but when I saw the water, my jaw dropped. The five foot swell figures listed on the forecast were being modest. The swells were vicious the further you went out from the coast.
As we were lining up, it made its way around the athletes that the swim was shortened to 750m. This was the correct call. For age groupers, this conditions would have been alright, but it definitely would have been dangerous for the older and back of the pack athletes. However, I felt that the race organizers could have communicated this change more clearly. A loud speaker announcement to all athletes notifying us of the change would have been helpful.
When I ran into the water, I immediately understood why the swim was shortened. Those waves were choppy, but I never felt unsafe. There were almost just as many lifeguards as there were athletes. I finished the swim in 13 minutes. But it was a quick start to a long day…
The Bike
The bike course was very well designed. Largely flat and straight roads, with plenty of room to pass athletes. All parts of the course had at least two lanes, and many stretches of the Wantagh had three lines to use. There were some tight turnarounds, but these were clearly marked.
There were some sections of the bike course that were hazardous for athletes. The expansion joints in the roads were not clearly marked. They were mentioned in the athlete briefing, but I feel that the race director could have stressed this more thoroughly. I was one of many athletes that would crash that day due to the expansion joints.
The bike leg was one hell of a ride
It started with a broken bike computer. I knew I was in trouble right when I hopped on the bike. The computer wouldn’t turn on, so I took one hand off hoods to try to fix it (my first mistake).
The wind gusts were over 50mph that morning. The wind was so strong that I almost got thrown off my bike. At this point I knew I was going to be in for a treat. I didn’t take my hands off the bars for the rest of the race. I waited until the gusts died down before reaching for nutrition.
The unraveling of a person usually begins when they start to believe their own hype
The bike course was a double loop over mainly flat roads. On the first loop, I got into a great rhythm, and felt fantastic. In spite of the wind, I was averaging ~22mph with a Zone 2 HR. I tried not to think about it too much. But I knew if I could finish the bike leg in under 2:30, I’d have a real shot to qualify for World Championships, since so many people dropped out due to the weather.
I risked it all on the second lap of the bike leg. This was a rookie mistake. I was topping 31mph on straightaways without any sort of downhill assistance. More experienced athletes knew to slow down and accept that the conditions would slow down their race.
I was incredibly foolish for being so aggressive in such shitty conditions. And I paid the price.
My downfall was inevitable, and I did not have a soft place to land…
The course had three full highway lanes for most of the lap. As it is with cars, the fastest athletes stay on the left side. Even with the amount of space we had, crashes were numerous. I personally saw three wipeouts (not including my own) on the second bike lap.
With about 10 miles left, two athletes crashed ahead of me. One of the athletes that caused the crash had the brilliant idea to full stop in the left lane, in order to help the crash. I had to swerve out of his way to prevent another crash, popped right through the expansion joint. I went flying.
When I projectiled, I hit the pavement rough. There was blood streaming from multiple spots on my legs and hands, and one nice large rip in my tri suit right next to my groin.
The crazy part was that I wasn’t even thinking about the blood, or my health. I couldn’t stop worrying that I just ended my race. When you give something your all, you’ll stop at nothing to finish what you started.
Two guys stopped to help me and make sure I was ok. I was shaken and bleeding, but I was ready to keep pushing on. I’m eternally grateful to both guys who stopped to help me. They fixed up my bike, and got it in a condition to finish out the race.
This is where the real fun started
The conditions continually worsened throughout the race. At this point, it was a torrential downpour. I was jack hammering and bleeding, but determined to grind it out.
Right when I started getting my stride, I looked at my front tire. It was completely blown. I pulled over onto the side of the road to fix my flat tire.
The race crew and other athletes were excellent. Multiple athletes slowed down to offer their assistance. The bike tech found me within 10 minutes. By the time he found me, I was just about finished fixing my tire, but I was impressed with how strong the tech coverage was.
The crash and flat tire cost me ~30 minutes on the bike (laps 10 & 11)
Seeing me on the side of the road was a sight to behold. My white tri suit was half covered in blood, my face was ghostly with blue lips, and I was jack hammering like a rabbit.
The whole time I couldn’t help but ask myself…. who else?! Who else is psychotic enough to finish a race covered in blood with hurricane conditions?
And right on cue, it started hailing. It was some biblical shit. I couldn’t help but laugh. At this point, every additional piece of discomfort thrown at me was just icing on the cake.
I pulled into transition in just under three hours. The crash and flat tire cost me about 30 minutes and my shot at Worlds. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that I was going to finish my own Odyssey.
The Run
The run was the highlight of the race. Two laps on the Jones Beach boardwalk and then out to the finish. On a nice day, this would have been a beautiful course. Flat and fast with ocean views, it was a great run course.
Aside from the screaming pain coming out of my left hip, the run was a breeze. I put in the right amount of work, and my training was paying off. Holding steady at a 8:30 min/mi, my HR was in Zone 3 and I was right where I wanted to be. I considered pushing into Z4 and finishing with sub 8s, but decided against it. The crash already put me in for a big recovery, and I didn’t want to push my luck.
The Finish
I highly recommend this race to other triathletes. The race director and support crew were communicative and attentive throughout the race. This was the first time an Ironman was done at Jones Beach, so I’d expect the race organizers to correct some of the issues with this year’s course.
Jones Beach is a great course to attempt a PR. The bike and run courses are flat and fast. One thing for the race directors to consider is potentially moving the race to earlier in the season. Late September in New York is a coin flip – it’s smack in the middle of hurricane season.
Jones Beach was the gift that kept on giving. I finished 5 hours and 9 minutes. I missed my shot at Worlds, but that was quite alright with me. In the process I achieved something much greater – a deep sense of accomplishment. Against everything that was thrown at me, I persevered, dug deep inside myself, and found the resolve to finish.
That internal feeling of satisfaction is greater than any prize, money, or external validation.
See you in 2024 for IRONMAN Texas.
