If You're Going To Blow Up, Best To Do It Near A Beach (Ironman Puerto Rico 70.3)
Manatees on the swim, a sunburn on the run, and "walking it in" for a piña colada
The Ironman Puerto Rico 70.3 (IMPR) triathlon was my season opener for 2024, and I eagerly arrived from the cold tundra of Austria to its warm and sunny beaches last weekend. This race was highly recommended by peers for just this reason - one can train indoors with gusto through the winter knowing a weekend in the Carribean awaits. A warm wetsuit-free ocean swim, cycling on a flat road under the palm trees, and a cobblestone run through old town San Juan with reggaeton playing from the seaside bars…aaaaahhhh. The reward for all that pain cave spelunking had arrived!
I was solo on this trip, with a few days of work beforehand in New York City, where an unexpectedly nice day had given me the chance to ride my TT bike outside for only the second time ever. My fitness was good, and the bike handling was reasonable, but my health was at ~70% thanks to a cold bug that required regular Afrin doses. But once I arrived in San Juan, Puerto Rico, my smiles and sighs outweighed any concerns. Que sera, sera (whatever will be, will be).
With ~900 participants, IMPR is small by Ironman standards, attracting international athletes to compete with the locals, with most coming from nearby USA, Mexico, and Latin America. It’s “about the size of one cruise ship arriving, but with road closures” as told to me by a local business owner, who also said it is a favorite event by the locals since everyone enjoys volunteering and celebrating their culture. Most participants I met said the same about the race atmosphere, with many of them coming for a 2nd, 3rd, and 4th time to enjoy the unique spirit of this island.
Thanks to the Ironman XC crew, we were very well prepared for the race, with a practice swim, talks with officials about the course and rules, a bike mechanic at our disposal, and plenty of breakfast time for me to get tips from the more experienced among us. The Caribe Hilton was a pleasant location, about half full of triathletes, and half full of east coast Americans on Spring Break. The tan lines indicated who is whom, with bronzed mid-sections from bikini/board shorts slightly outnumbering the brown-and-white paper doll arm/leg patterns of triathletes.
Race day turned out to be a hot one (30F/87F) as we all lined up at the beach to do a quick 1,900m (1.2 miles) loop in the Bay, and then under a bridge to our exit. I lined up with my fellow XC’ers (most of which whom are far better swimmers than me), and we jumped into the water two-by-two.
The water was SO NICE! Caribbean warm, meaning you don’t even have to adjust to it, and with sunlight, there was good visibility. I felt comfortable, and was able to do some drafting as faster swimmers passed me. As we went under the bridge, I saw the ground moving beneath me as we hit the current…along with a manatee! Good Lord these animals are big. Like cow-and-a-half big, with one big flipper tail. She just floated beneath us, as we splashed our way to the exit. I stepped out in 40 min, 13 sec, not my fastest, but not horrible.
I slipped into some shoes to cover the half mile transition to the bikes, and got out quickly to the closed highway with my new speed machine. There was 90k (56 miles) to go on the bike, and the most consistent advice I got was “eat and drink as much as possible, and do NOT burn any matches” (ie, save your energy for the run). As I went over the first bridge (4km), I saw water bottles everywhere and thought “wow, people are already consuming one water bottle in just 10 minutes?”. Then I hit the gargantuan curb-sized gap in the bridge, immediately sending my water bottles into the air and rolling out of reach, and realized those bottles were evidence of a struggle to come. Estoy bregando as they say here, something to deal with.
The bike course was super fast, and the roads smoothed out considerably for the looping section. This turns out to be a good paring for winter indoor training, when you are stuck in one position for long periods of time. We occasionally had some wind to content with, but I got the sense Puerto Ricans need an actual hurricane before they would consider it a problemo. I did my best to stay on my water and food from the aid stations since all my planned calories had jumped ship with the water bottle fiasco, and felt like I was 80-90% there. By the end of the ride (2 hr 32 min), I was still feeling strong.
The half marathon run course (21km, 13.1 miles) was two loops through the Old Town, with the heat and lack of shade being the biggest challenge. There was even a section called the “microwave”, a 2km path along a brick wall known for its lack of breeze, and because it is a National Park site, no water or aid available. I got through the first lap pretty well (including the microwave), right alongside Jordan Ouida, one of the other strong runners in the XC group (here for his fifth IMPR). But as I started the second loop, the heat really started to get to me. I thought “I should probably walk a bit…oh wait, I am already walking”, pulled off the course to unlunch, and was quickly in recovery mode.
The heat problem was manageable (having done this quite a few times in mountain ultra races), but it was going to take 10-15 minutes to get back on track now that my stomach was empty of water and calories. As the volunteers gave me an “ice diaper” (fill up your tri suit on both sides of your shorts), I cooled quickly, eating all I could grab in both hands while shuffling, and hoping no cameras were nearby to capture this awkward and desperate state. (ha, ha) With some encouragement from fellow racers and volunteers, I jogged/walked my way around the second lap (2 hr 3 min total) and found the finish line in 5:23:59, 9th in my M55-59 age group.
As I recovered at the finish line, I was happy with my fitness level, and the great blessing that it is to just get out there and race. The “what went wrong” was pretty obvious between the sunburn, low water and calorie intake on the bike, and a few other minor areas to improve. These are all fixable things. This finish time would not be enough to qualify for Worlds, but it was great to see so many deserving athletes earning a slot with their solid performances (including Jordan!). There’s no way I could see a blue sky day like this as anything but a gift, lessons and all.
A volunteer reminded me that the piña colada was invented here in Puerto Rico, and along with a big helping of mofungo (plantains with curry and rice), both are a solid recovery tool for being exhausted and sunburnt. Probably not the most sound medical advice, but hey, who am I to argue with the locals? If you’re going to blow up, best to do it at the beach.
I’ll have to find another IM 70.3 if I want to make it to Worlds, a perfect obsession as I recover at the beach. I’m thinking another beach race could be fun.
Onward and upward! Next up, the 2024 Boston Marathon in April…
Very cool! Excited to find another triathlon newsletter here on Substack. I shared my first intro post today. :)
You have been amazing me since before you arrived in this world—still in awe.