Home Field Advantage: The Rev3 Report

An overly dramatic race recap


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The air was uncharacteristically chilly Sunday morning at 6:45 when Melissa Gill and I put the finishing touches on our transition areas. If I had to guess, there was about $20,000 in bikes and wetsuits within a water bottle squirt of my slot, rack 322. My friend and resident Ironman veteran, Todd Montgomery, was racked just one stand over. When I later passed him on the run course, he probably wished he could take back some of the pre-race advice he gave me.


Professionals hit the water at 7:45. They were already passing the dock ten minutes later when it was time for my wave to start. If the air was cold, the water felt at least tepid through my wetsuit. I swam the straight out-and-back course on cruise control, slapping at ankles in front of me, trying to conserve energy. The extra 400 meters, compared to an Olympic-distance race, were noticeable but not overly draining. And I have yet to sprout extra limbs or feel my stomach ripped apart by water-borne bacteria from the Tennessee River (knock on wood).


T1 was a flourish of cowbells, Gatorade and a chat with my wetsuit twin. My first flying bike mount worked flawlessly, and soon I was cruising down Martin Mill Pike. Two police motorcycles came into view, and a blur on a Cervelo P4 (Bjorn Andersson) whooshed by. Seconds later, the power train of Chris Lieto, Matt Reed and Terenzo Bozzone also passed. They were less than 40 minutes from the end of their race, and I was less than 40 minutes into mine. I savored the proximity to greatness for a moment, then put my head down and cranked.


Before the race, my plan was to take the bike easy. But Todd told me to let it all hang out; I would probably run the same speed either way. As it turned out, that was good advice. I held my position the whole ride, even passing a few people on the hills with which I am excruciatingly familiar. Three instances of discomfort stuck out. At mile 9.67, a number etched indefinitely in my brain, I hit rough asphalt and my computer ceased functioning. As the proper Euro cyclist would attest, I rode strictly according to feel -- and the sensations were good. Around mile 35, my glutes and hamstrings started to fatigue, prompting some low-gear spinning until the burn died down. And the sharp plastic corners of the Gu packs taped to my top tube clawed into my knees. Lesson learned.


At T2, I heard shouts from familiar voices, although I couldn't exactly make out where they were coming from, or to whom they belonged. Todd had told me about the blisters he suffered at his last 70.3, so I pulled on socks. With my visor, watch and race belt, I started my first half-marathon. Fast. And why not? The sensations were good.


Allan sneaked up beside me on his bike. "Hey man, how do you feel? Good? Yeah, you're looking pretty strong right now." Then he peeled off, leaving me to my thoughts. What if I bonk? What if I totally rock this thing? There are a lot of sponsors here...what if I got some kind of offer? What if my parents don't make it on time for the finish? When am I going to hit the wall?


My legs did start to feel heavy after a few miles. But (warning: gross stuff ahead) I had been trying to pee on myself for the last five miles of the bike and the first three miles of the run -- and it just wasn't happening. So I had to duck off the greenway to relieve myself, which gave my legs just enough of a break. I caught Todd and we talked for a minute; I'm not sure what race etiquette dictates, but I kept pushing. I wasn't trying to race Todd directly. I was racing myself and the possibility of an epic slow-down, so I just wanted to pad my time until I reached the crash point. 


But I never broke stride. I steadily picked runners off, all the way to the final turnaround at mile 13. I choked up when I entered the finish chute, just as I had choked up two or three times before on the run, when I realized I was going to be alive and well at the end of the day. Nearly the whole crew -- Allan, Leslie, Justin, Emily, Matt, Ali, Devon, my parents -- were at the finish line. And Melissa was crossing the line not too long after that. 


So my first 70.3 is in the books. In short, I exceeded my very ambitious goal of breaking five hours, finishing in 4:56. I ran a 1:32 half-marathon (a PR by default). I won 2nd place in my age group and placed top-20 overall. And I have the best friends and parents in the world (or at least ZIP code 37916), all of whom helped me get through my biggest race in practically my own backyard. 

Terrenzo Bozzone: great athlete, cool dude...and orange glasses.

Thanks to my friends, parents and Rev3 volunteers for making it a great race!