Silverman Triathlon: swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, and run 26.2 miles. The race is branded as one of the world’s toughest iron-distance courses. With 9,700 feet climbing on the bike, 2,300 feet on the run, and unpredictable weather, it is a convincing argument. This is where dreams are realized or shattered.
I’ve done this race in 2006 and 2007. Both times I finished but suffered extremely due to nutritional issues through the day. The ‘run’ turned into a scene from the movie March of the Penguins. Every walking step was painful, especially the downhills. Temperatures dropped into the high 40s at night. I was cold, shivering, scared, miserable, in pain, but I persevered.
As much as those two times hurt, 2008 hurt the most. That year, I developed some bad habits, fell behind on key workouts, and the wheels eventually fell off. In mid-October, I had to make a go/no-go decision for Silverman. I have too much respect for that race to go into it unprepared and had to make the painful no-go decision. I kicked and beat myself up on race day. I felt guilty for not being there and felt I let a lot of people down. There was nobody to blame but myself.
Fast forward to 2009. Mid-October of this year, I didn’t have to make a go/no-go decision. That decision was made last year as I was following race updates online. I put in a lot of hard work and the inventory of suffering was high. Some of this work included: I did a 100/100 running challenge in the winter with the goal of running minimum 30 minutes 100 times in 100 days; I ran 80 times those days. I ran my first 50K (31 mile) ultra-marathon. I got a coach and fixed my swimming doing hours of drills. I did multiple hilly bike century (100 mile) rides, and also Death Ride (129 miles with 15,000 ft climbing). I did an epic bike session where I biked 100 miles the first day, came back and did grueling hill repeats the second day, and followed that the third day by a 100 mile hilly ride and 12 mile run (last couple miles in the dark). I did a half-ironman and had a solid 13.1 mile run time of 1:39:14… the 66th fastest of the day out of over 750 people. The list goes on and on.
Along the way this year, I also hit a speed bump at the Vineman iron-distance triathlon in August. With 10 miles remaining on the run, I dropped out due to nutrition issues and had to be driven to the medical tent (recap). I’ve discovered it’s not the races you do good at where you learn the most about yourself. Instead it’s the opposite. I spent countless hours in September and October reworking, fixing, and testing my nutrition.
Getting that history out of the way, I arrived in Las Vegas rested and healthy, miraculously. 13 days before race day, I got borderline sick with mild flu-like symptoms. After unpacking, putting together my bike, and taking care of other race needs, it was all set for the big day.
Race Day
My day started at 4:30am after 5 hours of sleep. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t fall sleep until 11:30pm. I took the shuttle to the swim start and did my usual race prep before heading down to the lake. I was nervous standing in the water due to not knowing what my fitness level was after getting sick. Minutes before the race start, the national anthem was played. The countdown then began, the cannon fired, and the 5th morning of race history was underway.
Swim: The swim takes place in Lake Mead, 20 miles east of Las Vegas. The past years, high winds led to very choppy waters. In 2008, kayaks were flipped over… This year was a polar opposite. The lake was glassy, as if it were the calm before the storm. The swim start of any triathlon can be brutal. About 200 yards in, I was kicked hard in the face, knocking my goggles loose. The area around my eyes felt bruised. Just another obstacle to overcome.
I swam at a pace that felt comfortable to me. Coming back was challenging since athletes swim towards the sunrise and it’s difficult to spot the swim buoys. At times, I was only following other swimmers, swimming side by side with them and being separated by less than 2 feet. I came out the water in 1:14:21. I was shocked; that’s my fastest 2.4 mile swim time ever.
Bike : The bike course is mostly in the Nevada desert, very scenic but also very brutal. It’s either up or down the entire way, with about 2 miles of flats (although there are plenty of false flats that drove me crazy). A majority of the climbing is done in the first 50 miles. At the turn-around point, it’s mostly downhill, with the exception of three 16-18% short hills at around mile 95. This is then followed by a few miles on a never-ending bike trail where the entire trail is a false flat.
I settled into a comfortable groove and put myself on autopilot. Most of the time I was alone. I had plenty of time to think and focus on my nutrition plan, which is as follows if you’re curious:
- Energy gel every odd aid station (10, 30, 50…) - total 600 calories
- Banana every even aid station (20, 40, 60…) - total 300 calories
- Energy bar every 30 miles - total 1,000 calories
- Sports drink and water every 20 miles - total 600 calories
I hit all these targets precisely for a grand total of 2,500 calories. It was practiced extensively in training and I knew it would work.
At about mile 80, I was ready to get out of the desert. I had seen enough rocks and dirt and mountains for a while. I was feeling good at this point. A little tired but that was expected and wasn’t a concern. The three short steep hills at mile 95 were not an issue. By mile 102, I wanted off the bike badly. I’m sure every athlete gets the same feeling around this point. I was also crunching numbers in my head; My total time was around 8:30 so far, and I knew if I could run a 4:30 marathon, I would break 13 hours. I tried to stay in the moment and not think too far out. Eventually I rolled into T2 with a bike time of 7:13:37.
Run : The run is two loops, each loop 13.1 miles. As I started the run, I knew if I could go 2 miles and not have stomach issues, I would be good the rest of the way. The first mile went fine. The 2nd mile goes up a hill and I was still feeling strong. By the third mile, no signs of stomach issues that I normally would experience by this point. I kept running, feeling great. I did the first loop in about 2:05. If I could do that one more time, I would certainly break 13 hours.
Unfortunately fatigue started to kick in. My pace slowed a little and I walked some of the uphills and my 13 hour goal went out the window. The last few miles in any iron-distance race is always the toughest. At critical moments, athletes must often overcome pain and misery they never imagined. That moment came for me at 13:07. At that point, I wanted to get 13:15 badly. The only thing standing between me and that time was one mile and a hill (surprise surprise). I dug real deep (and it hurt) to give it everything I had to sprint to the finish line.
Finish: The run down an iron-distance finishers’ cute is something an athlete will always remember. It’s a very special place that marks the end of an athlete’s 140.6 mile journey. The bright lights, the announcer yelling your name over the speakers, the cheering fans, the photographers, the finisher’s shirt and medal, the emotions is what every athlete lives, trains, and races for.
I crossed the finish line in 13:15:10, a dream finally realized. I couldn’t be more happy about my time. This has been my fastest ever time. I never imagined getting a iron-distance PR at Silverman.
It’s now the day after. I’m a little store, but overall healthy and injury free.
I hope everyone will consider doing the Silverman full or half race. It’s extremely well organized with tremendous community support and an amazing group of energetic volunteers. I’m positive I’ll be back in the near future.
