“Either life entails courage, or it ceases to be life” –E.M. Forster (The quote for Sunday, September 18 in my planner)
Branson 70.3, my “A” tri of the season is now officially in the books. I’m still not sure what my family and I got ourselves into even now, days after the race.
To go back, this season was planned to be a return to short-course triathlons after the multiple year build-up to Ironman Louisville 2010 for myself, my sister, and my dad. However, not to abandon long-course completely, we decided to culminate the season with another 70.3. This was mainly due to the fact that my sister’s significant other (now fiancée) was hoping to do his first 70.3, and so to show our support we thought we’d all get in on the fun with him. What we failed to do in our planning was to thoroughly compare the 70.3 options available and basically “just decided” to do Branson since it is in the fall/late season and it is in proximity to St. Louis (sister and fiancé’s city of residence). None of us had been to Branson recently enough to know anything about the terrain or the city in general and we only performed limited scouting beforehand. In fact, all we really knew as we left St Louis Saturday morning was that the bike course was “pretty hilly”.
Mentally, my training this year has also been less focused than in the past. I attribute some of it to a post-Ironman slump, brushes with burnout, and additional life stresses that have affected my motivation. That being said, I’ve still hit my PR for Olympic distance racing this year at Deer Creek and even took an overall victory at a small race in NW Ohio, so it’s not been a bad year at all.
In my lack of focus, I neglected thorough bike training in the run up to Branson, despite knowing vaguely of the hilly bike course. Many of my bike workouts were base without hills and a fair bit of the work was done on the trainer. Most of my key workouts have been reserved for running since I have an October Marathon looming, and have yet to successfully complete a marathon without exploding at “the wall”.
Now, enough with the back story nonsense and onto the race weekend itself. The drive from St. Louis to Branson was marked by rain (I see a theme) for nearly its entirety. As the terrain became lumpier and the billboard advertisements more ridiculous, we knew Branson was fast approaching. Since check in is at the host hotel (The Chateau) which is perched beautifully on a steep hill overlooking Table Rock Lake, we were able to bypass Branson proper initially and instead approached The Chateau through the misty midday fog. Our arrival time was right around lunch time and the “peak” athlete check in hours. However, there were no lines to speak of for any of the registration steps, probably because there are so fewer racers (~650) than at many other 70.3 events. After a quick bite we attended the athlete meeting, mostly to see how the multiple transition area arrangement would work as well as the bad weather contingency plan. Then we made our way down the hillside to Moonshine Beach and T1 to check in our bikes. By this point, the rain was at a heavy drizzle and the temperature was in the low to mid 50’s. Being (not) well prepared with my non-waterproof, lightweight wind-jacket, I was determined to unload the bike, get the race wheels on, inflate, and rack the tri-bike as quickly as humanly possible. This was a mistake, but more on that later.
With our Saturday formalities completed, we made our way to our hotel, nestled nicely between the Hollywood Wax Museum and a near life-sized replica of the Titanic, to check in and get dry before heading out on the town for dinner. On our evening drive to the Branson Landing, we were able to take in all the neon-lit theatres, Chinese buffets, and antique shops that Branson had to offer. The Landing itself offered a nice change being a waterfront outdoor shopping and dining center lacking much of the “glitz” of the rest of the city. Dinner was pub-food, which allowed us to linger and take in a good deal of bad college football (looking at you OSU and Kentucky) before heading in for the night to sort our transition bags and catch some Z’s.
Race morning came early; my stomach was unsettled from heavy dinner and the always good decision of pre-race ice cream, so I skipped my usual race morning banana (but not my coffee) and hit the road to T2 to drop off the run gear bag. Due to the rainy wet conditions, I kept everything tightly packed in my gear bag and included an extra pair of socks for the run, an unusual extravagance for me. After the quick T2 visit, we boarded the duck boats (our shuttles were indeed duck boats) and “set sail” for T1 and the swim start. T1 setup was more scaled down than usual for me since I wanted to keep everything under cover in case a shower passed through during the swim. Once setup was complete, it was off to the beach to talk through our nervousness with the rest of the participating family and our support crew (brave mothers in this case). Sunrise arrived and the clouds actually appeared to be clearing. The water was glassy-smooth as the pros launched at 7AM with my dad in the first wave behind. My sister launched 10 minutes later at 7:15, when I decided to fully don the wetsuit and down my pre-race Powergel.
At 7:40, M18-29 was sent from the beach with me included. My goal here was to get my stroke rate up quickly to warm up and set a strong initial pace as well as to position myself near the middle of my AG pack to provide natural “human bumpers” to keep me swimming straight. Both goals were accomplished well, and soon enough I was in a rhythm. The course is an elongated, slightly askew rectangle and there were plenty of buoys to sight off of, so I just started ticking off the meters. I felt like things were going well, and my belief was confirmed when I began passing swimmers from 2 waves prior in the last 500 meters. I hopped out of the water and jogged up the stairs to T1 with my legs feeling a little more rubbery than usual at this point in HIM, but I’ll take some early fatigue for a new best swim in non-current conditions. Swim: 35:22 (23/61 in M25-29)
T1 was uneventful and I was quickly out on the bike course. T1: 2:53
As soon as you leave the parking lot on the bike you are faced with the harsh reality of the hills. Climbing made up the majority of the first 3 miles, so I just settled into a comfort zone and focused on slowly grinding upward while getting my nutrition and trying to diagnose what that awful creaking noise was coming from my bike. At around mile 7, the course reaches “The High Road” and the first aid station. At this milestone, I decided to stop and correct the still mysterious noise issue on my bike. After a little time with the bike upside down, I realized that in my haste to get out of the rain on Saturday, I had installed my rear wheel to close to the frame cutout and it was therefore rubbing the frame. Getting frustrated with the time I was losing, I continued to door a poor job of correcting the problem while getting increasingly worked up. Finally, after a few deep breaths I backed the skewer position out of the drop-outs a bit to allow more clearance before continuing on. The only problem with this was that I was now riding paranoid that my rear wheel was not firmly enough seated into position and would disconnect from the frame on one of the descents. This was an absurd notion, but it kept me from really pushing the initial descents until I regained trust in my equipment. The 10 mile time-split came finally (the slowness can be seen on the results) and the remainder of the bike proceeded smoothly.
The “High Road” is a highway sitting high in the Ozarks allowing for awesome views coupled with roller-coaster terrain. The majority of the bike course was spent either grinding up a hill at 10mph, or zooming downward at 35+…it was a true test with about 30% more ascending than the Louisville IM course in only half the distance (according to MapMyRide). Knowing this was no PR course, I tried to take it all in stride and just focus on how I felt to guide my pacing. I raced without any technology so I wouldn’t be tempted to compete against my average speed. As the final miles approached, the wind and clouds picked up, so I was glad to be leaving the High Road for the descent into Branson. All told, the bike was fine, and looking back I consider myself lucky for not getting a flat considering the sharp, fine gravel that washed onto the road from Saturday’s rain had many victims including my soon to be brother in law and my dad (1 flat each), as well as my sister (2 flats and forced to retire from the race when the SAG vehicle ran out of spare equipment). After some steep descents and a no-passing technical bike-path section on the run into town, I was racking my bike at Branson Landing and leaving for the final leg of the race. Time: 3:13:27 (17.37mph, 22/61 in M25-29).
T2 was quick, mainly due to the lack of clutter in the transition area. T2: 1:44.
The run is a multi-loop course (2 & 7/8’s loops according to the race director), that runs flat along the river. Part of each loop is through the center of the Landing shopping center, a very spectator friendly strip. The rest of the loop runs along the river through an RV park, under some old railroad bridges, through some residential areas and looping at a small park outside of downtown. I settled into what felt like a very controlled pace, but could not really tell since my pacing off the bike is usually incorrect without being monitored (which I was not doing…no technology). Looking at the 2 mile split, I went out a little too hot at 7:01 pace…should have been more in the 7:15-7:30 pace. Somewhere on the return to the landing in my 3rd mile there was a huge crack of thunder. This drew my attention upward to the now dark heavens staring ominously back down. Uh-oh!
As I passed the finish chute at mile 4 the rain began to fall, first in drops, but steadily increasing to a downpour complete with its own light and sound show. As my motivation to continue began to rapidly decrease, my mind wandered to the rest of the family that I presumed was still on the bike course. I was afraid for them with the remaining descents into town and the harrowing weather conditions. At this time, I also stopped taking nutrition…I don’t think this was related to my distraction but instead to having taken in too much water at early aid-stations convincing my stomach that it was full. As the run turned into a rapid wading contest on lap 2, I began looking out for familiar faces on the course. I got frustrated when I began to tire and was not seeing any of the Kissel race team on the run, so negativity took over. I found myself walking intermittently through during basically all the remaining miles from 6 to the finish, but not so much because my legs were dead. My running pace was still strong at 7:30-7:45, but I just didn’t want to be out there slogging anymore.
I caught my mom at the beginning of the 3rd lap and asked about the others, but was not given reassuring response. I was more distracted at this point since I had only seen my dad on the run course thus far and was told vaguely that “we weren’t all out here” at the loop. With my negative mind-set, my thoughts immediately went to crashes and injuries and I almost pulled out of the race to see what the situation was. Of course the situation was much less severe, albeit the disappointing news that my sister was pulled from the bike course. I continued slowly the final loop only taking in water and just trying to complete the task at hand. I finally kick myself into gear around mile 12 to go ahead and run the rest of the way in. I turned in a decent kick down the finish chute and went in search of the family. I was unaware of my race splits until talking to my wife on the phone about a half hour after the race. Run Time: 1:50:45 (8:27 pace)
Final Time: 5:44:11 (15th of 61 M25-29).
Post-race, I was relieved to see my sister and find out that the other 2 were still on the course (although I’m sure they weren’t as pleased at the time). After a pit-stop at the car to warm-up and grab a blanket, we returned to the finish to cheer in the remaining competitors. It was time to get dry, get fed, and get the heck out of that tacky, rainy city!
Looking back from my dry living room, I am glad to have partaken in the challenge that was Branson. If I’m going to race a slow 70.3 course, it might as well be in crazy weather conditions as well to add to the adventure. The time is what it is. I think on a good day without the bike pit stop and a more focused run I could have been maybe 20 minutes faster, but it still wouldn’t have put me near a qualification spot. I severely underestimated the course, but enjoyed the experience nonetheless.
My tips for anyone considering this race in the future:
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Stay near Table Rock Lake and away from Branson if possible to avoid the cheesiness of the city.
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Practice biking on long, sustained climbs (1-2 miles) with steady grades. Most climbs could be completed spinning up in a low gear without needing to stand and crank on it.
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Enjoy the scenery of the High Road. There is no other 70.3 venue with as much bike-course scenery in North America.
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Pack your sense of humor. Chances are, you’ll need it at some point in the weekend.
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Thank the volunteers…they were heroes and didn’t even flinch as the skies opened and attempted to wash them into the river. Everyone remained all smiles (and ponchos) at the aid stations
