Tigger's St. Croix Race Report - 2009
Posted on Thursday, May 07 @ 15:52:22 MDT
Topic: Race information
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 Where to begin . . . . What can you say about a race that includes a shot of rum in your race packet? But don’t be fooled by the rum or by the phenomenon that is commonly referred to as “island time,” this was a serious race filled with a lot of serious athletes, and the most awesome course to ever completely (and totally) kick my butt. The answer to the obvious question is an enthusiastic, “Yes! I plan to do it again!”
I’ll begin with the concept of “island time.” It’s really not hard to tell time on the island – you simply need to add the suffix “-ish” to the time. Seven o’clock becomes “seven-ish,” nine o’clock becomes “nine-ish,” and so on. Don’t misunderstand me here – this is definitely NOT a complaint. In fact, living life by island time is thoroughly enjoyable once you understand and embrace the concept. Life would be much simpler if we could add a little “island time” to our lives.
Now, let me see if I can introduce the people in a few short sentences. Every person we passed on the street said, “good morning,” and if I followed ‘good morning’ with a, “how are you?” I received a very genuine and cheerful reply that seemed to invite further conversation. People on island time really seem to enjoy a conversation – they never seem to be moving too fast and aren’t distracted. Which brings me to service on the island – service is also somewhat governed by “island time.” Again, this is NOT a complaint; it’s simply an observation. However, combine that with their penchant for conversation, and I found when I was dealing with a waitress, a desk clerk, or any other person I seemed to have their undivided attention, and they seemed perfectly content to wade through my questions, and were happy to provide what answers they could. No, they didn’t always have all of the answers, but they were perfectly content to admit they didn’t know, and on at least on occasion a person spent about 15 minutes walking around trying to find somebody who knew the answer to my question. In short, when they are talking to you, they are talking to YOU, and not distracted by what they think they should be doing next. There doesn’t seem to be a “next” in island time – it may seem a little slower, but “island time” is all about the present.
The people love the race. It shows in the streets, and it shows on race day. When we raced the bike course I noticed it was particularly clean and free of debris. The amount of effort it must have taken to clear the bike course was obvious the day AFTER the race. There was some heavy rains the night after the race, and we drove part of the bike course the next day. There were many places where a lot of sand, rocks, and debris had washed down into the road. It seemed to rain a little bit almost every day when I was there so there had to be debris on the course, but none of that was present on race day. It takes a lot of effort to clean up 56 miles of roads, but that’s the kind of enthusiasm the Cruzians have for their race. It was great.
Okay, so all of that is simply an introduction to some of the things that made this such a great experience. Let’s go racin’!
The swim is in the harbor at Christiansted. The swim was a beach start on a small island about 250 meters off-shore, and we had to swim out to the start area. That’s okay because it’s a good warm up swim. The water is comfortably cool and no wetsuits are allowed. As I was swimming out to the island I looked down and spotted a stingray about the size of a large dinner plate gliding across the bottom of the shallow harbor. It was very cool, and I started to follow it along just to observe, but then . . . oh, yeah . . . this RACE thing.
The Swim
The pros started at 6:30, and my wave started at 6:43. They were starting waves at 2-3 minute intervals, so it moved quickly. The swim was something of an “S-shaped” course. The first turn was a gentle bend to the left, with a long leg out into the harbor, a hard right turn around the far buoy, and a leg back into the main island shore. To avoid any washing-machine at the start I began my swim at the very outside away from the turn buoy. When the horn sounded I made a straight line for the buoy that marked the end of the “left bend” and onto the straight outbound leg. By the time I got to the marker the swim was settled and I found a good draft pack to swim with. The water was beautifully clear and it was easy to draft. I think my head came up out of the water only three times during the entire 1.2 mile swim. The rest of the time I was just following feet. There was a bit of confusion at the outermost turn buoy, and that’s where I popped up briefly to sight. Fortunately they had marked the turn with a large sailboat staffed by a friendly volunteer yelling, “you have to go AROUND the buoy!” Okay, so I went around the buoy and started the leg back for home. I haven’t spent any time talking about wind, and choppy water, or anything else, mostly because I didn’t really notice any of it. There was some chop, I’m sure, but the conditions were excellent overall. I sighted again at the turn buoy close to the old fort on-shore, just to make sure we had a good line, and sighted a final time as I closed in on the buoy marking the swim exit. 38:11 swim time – I was really happy with that.
T-1 and the Bike
The transition area was in a sandy/grass lot next to the fort. Once I got to my bike I stopped to wipe the sand and gravel from my feet and put on my socks and my bike shoes. I thought that crossing the transition area to the bike exit would just accumulate sand and gravel on my feet, and I would have to stop and clean them anyway, so I elected to exit transition wearing my bike shoes. There was not separate transition time recorded, so I don’t know whether I had a good or bad transition, but ultimately I made it onto the bike and that’s all that matters.
The first segment of the bike is an 8-mile loop of hills and rough roads that are a preview of things to come. Overall the roads were in good shape, but there were some pretty rough patches. We had biked the 8-mile loop a couple of times before the race, so we knew what to expect. The roads were so rough in places that during one downhill segment I was passed by Stacy’s powertap computer. That’s the first time I‘ve ever been passed by a cycle computer with no “cycle” attached to it. Apparently the computer had shaken itself right off the mount and was bouncing down the street followed by Stacy on her bike exclaiming, “oh sh_t! oh Sh_t! OH SH_T!” Fortunately no cars came along and we managed to rescue the powertap from the street, but that gave us some idea of the things that could happen during the bike. We ended up taping our computers to their mounts, just to make sure they finished with our bikes. The 8-mile loop included a couple of climbs and a rapid, gentle descent back towards town. I was riding pretty well, but was trying to focus on settling my heart rate down after the swim.
Back into and through town in a series of narrow streets and tight turns that makes this a very technical bike course. Keep in mind that Christiansted has colonial (and pre-colonial) roots, so most of the buildings have been there for quite some time. There was one segment hardly wide enough for a car, and that segment included a ninety degree turn to the right. This all made for an interesting time.
Finally through town and out along the shore. We had driven this before so I know it was a series of climbs and descents, with a couple of sharp turns thrown in for good measure. At a couple of points on this segment we went from biking next to the beach to a climb to the tops of bluffs a hundred or so feet above the waves, and back down to the beach. Around mile 18 there’s a climbing segment that leads to the bluffs at mile 21, and a sharp left-hand turn onto the hill known as “The Beast.”
The Beast is a single hill that climbs 600 vertical feet in 7/10ths of a mile. It has an average grade of 14.5% and a couple of tight turns as it winds it’s way through the rain forest. In true island fashion the locals had painted dragon footprints the first hundred feet up the beast. The prints were in Carribean red, yellow, and green stripes, and were a few feet wide. Each 1/10th of a mile is marked, and they have painted the percent grade of the hill at various points along the way. 8.5% . . . 11.5% . . . 15.5% . . . 16.5% . . . . 21% (I don’t think I really needed to know THAT just then, but there it was . . . ). About 2/3rd’s of the way up the hill they have painted a big dragon’s head belching fire up the road. For all of that, it didn’t seem that hard at the time – just keep a steady cadence and focus on the present (see how that “island time” theme keeps recurring?). There were knots of fans along the way cheering us on, too. “You’re looking GREAT, Mon!” (forgive me, but I didn’t stop to “converse” at that point – I was kinda busy at the time). At the top of the Beast there is a line painted across the road and a water stop to reload water and Gatorade. It’s at this water stop that I realized I had made a tactical error that affected the rest of my race.
Tactical error? Yep. I thought I had heard the race director confirm there would be energy gels on the bike course, so I had only carried 4 gels with me on the bike. At this water stop I was told they didn’t have any gels on the bike course. That’s when I realized my race was in serious trouble because my race plan includes consuming enough calories to ensure I have the energy to complete a solid run. I needed another 6-7 gels to meet my nutritional requirements on the bike, so I was facing a serious fuel deficit. What could I do? I took a couple of bottles of water and a Gatorade and motored on.
There was a long winding descent off the Beast, and I took that time to recover my legs from the climb. After that there’s a series of turns and straights, and a few rolling hills, but the course is mostly settled and easy to ride. I say, “mostly” because there is one segment through a neighborhood that includes seven speed bumps that must have been constructed from the remains found in a Volkswagen graveyard. They weren’t too bad, really, but the first and last speedbumps were not painted so they were very hard to spot. Fortunately, we had scouted the course the day before and had counted the bumps. Over the bumps and on up the road and around the airport.
Once past the airport the road levels out a bit along the south shore of the island, but that doesn’t mean life gets easy. You see, it takes you headlong into the trade winds – you remember - the winds that drove the ocean trade between Europe and the New World? You’d think they would have blown themselves out by now, but they are still around. Fortunately they were only blowing 14-18 miles per hour on race day, and, with a little patience, I was able to drive through the winds and into the water stop at mile 41. Now, this is the last water stop on the route, and it’s located at the new casino/resort on the island. 41 miles into the bike and they tempt us with a beach view and a casino. Must . . . cycle . . . on . . . Interestingly, energy gels make a somewhat magical appearance at this water stop. Very cool. It’s very late in the race, but I’ll try to make up nutrition where I can. They hand me four gels – all tangerine flavored . . . I really don’t like tangerine flavored gels, and it’s a testament to my determination that I managed to stomach three of them during the final 15 miles of the bike.
AND WHAT A LAST 15 MILES! The last 15 miles went in four directions – up, down, left, and right. We went back around the 8-mile loop and finished back in town. 3:18 on the bike. Not a good day for me, but I had finished the bike without shaking the fillings from my back teeth, so all was good. As Stacy later described it, the bike course was “relentless,” but it was behind me.
The Run
Only 13.1 miles to go? Piece of cake, right? Ummmm . . . not so much. First of all, it’s starting to get really hot now, and all of the roads are black asphalt. There were water stops about every kilometer on the run, and boy did we need them. Ice, Gatorade, water, sponges, and even an occasional helpful person armed with a garden hose who would happily hose you down with the barest nod from you. The first two-plus miles of the run are mostly uphill to the Buccaneer resort. There’s nothing particularly notable about this segment except that I was looking forward to the return trip DOWNhill. This is a two-loop course, so we got to make this climb twice . . . but ohhh, that’s not the worst of it . . .
Once on the resort they took us along cart paths around the golf course. This included a couple of miles of dirt path through the trees and uphill. Across a parking lot and past the resort swimming pool (yet another temptation?) where sunbathers enjoying fruity drinks cheered us on, and then to the cart path up (and down) the hill on the 15th fairway. I don’t know WHAT the percent grade was on this hill. It was about 200 feet long and it had to be a double-digit grade, but I slogged my way to the top on the first lap. You’d think that would be all of it, but then it’s over the top and back down the hill. Ever notice how it can be more painful running downhill? That was certainly true here.
Out the resort gate and back into town to the turnaround. Shortly after the turnaround the lack of calories on the bike caught up with me. At mile 7 I stopped sweating and I was starting to feel a bit of a chill. These are not good signs, and I knew adjustments were necessary. I jogged to the next water stop and then walked through the water stop drinking a couple of cups of water and icing/cooling my head, back, and body. At the end of the water stop I start jogging again, but now it’s about being careful, staying healthy, and just finishing the race. I repeated this formula at each water stop along the way until I started sweating again and then turned up the pace a little. Mile 9 is somewhere in the dirt road segment of the trail through the Buccaneer resort and here's the next little surprise . . . As I'm jogging up the trail the biggest damned Iguana I have EVER seen walks out into the middle of the trail and stops. I'm trying to remember whether Iguana's bite . . . can they jump . . . how fast are they . . . and any other Iguana trivia I have stored in my brain (which, not surprisingly, was limited to how ti spell "Iguana"). At the last I simply jumped over it's tail and kept going. There was another runner close behind me and I knew I wouldn't have to out run the Iguana . . . :-)At mile 11 I notice that my heart rate is fairly low and dropping – another sign that my “race” is over. Once back to the turnaround I was directed out into the town for the final 7/10th’s of a mile before the finish line. 6:06:14. Not the race I wanted to have, really, but I learned a lot, and I had a GREAT time!
Okay. . . . long, and filled with relatively useless information . . . but all leading up to this question . . . So, TriCowtown – how about a 2009 destination race???
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