Tri For Fun Sprint Triathlon

August 8th, 2009

.5 mile swim .. 16 mile bike .. 3 mile run

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The Lead Up

As alluded to in my writeup of the June 6th, 2009 Tri For Fun, I have a special place in my heart for this triathlon series. The camaraderie, positive vibe, and genuine sportsmanship of my fellow Sacramento triathletes, Y-Tri teammates, triathlon fans, and race coordinators always leaves a good taste in my mouth before, during, and after the event. After last year's improvements on this course, Gretchen's victory in the July duathlon, and my loss in the clydesdale division by the slimmest of margins in June, I was gunning for a decent race at the August tri. My big race in August is next week's half-iron in Provo, UT, but I was definitely looking at the August tri for fun as a good tune-up for the half.

Training

My training throughout the summer has meandered about, with some really solid workouts, to a few workouts where I wasn't too sure if they were worth my time. Once again, I failed to get on a specific training plan, so a lot of my training ended up being last minute decisions, completely based upon what I felt like doing at the time; not necessarily a recipe for success. Most of the summer I have been riding my bike to work, and while I don't exactly hammer the commute route (I'm usually more concerned with my general safety as it is endangered by glass, gangs, and gasoline vehicles), I do work up a decent sweat and breath a little heavy. I have done a few hard rides with some guys from the Tri group, but they were spread far enough apart that I'm not sure about their aerobic benefit. Gretchen and I got on a pretty good schedule of family fun runs after work, where she would push Abby in the single jogger and I'd push Kaiya and Duncan in the double jogger, though often times these were interrupted by tantrums, tormenting, and general difficulty in navigating a double jogger around the concrete jungle where we live. In the last few weeks, while my swimming went to virtually nil, I did enjoy some good runs on the treadmill at the YMCA after the kids were in bed. I was counting on these runs to get me thru in good time, as that has generally been my achilles heel in the past. All in all, I felt somewhat prepared, though I lacked the single-minded focus and drive that I have felt prior to other races.

Night Before the Race

I once again waited quite awhile before preparing my stuff for this race (not generally recommended), and I almost paid dearly for it, as I almost left my goggles in the backpack that I take to the pool. Fortunately, it appears that I remembered everything, as I was not left wanting at the starting line. Although it wasn't the night before the race, the morning before I shaved part of the beard I had been growing for 5 weeks and decided to do some nice big Wolverine style mutton chops. I also got my pre-race ritualistic $6.99 haircut from the Vietnamese barber who speaks hardly a lick of English, but gets a real kick out of me saying 'thank you' to him in Vietnamese. Gretchen looked at me somewhat disapprovingly as I told her that I planned to race this race with panache, but fortunately she is my wife, and is compelled to support me in my endeavors (she may disagree with this). Gretchen did support me in my desire to have a decent dinner the night before, and made the tortellini/asparagus/tomato/Italian dressing concoction that I requested; this elixir has proved its worth in endeavors past, and I had nothing but confidence it would do it again. We stayed up too late watching a mediocre/subpar movie 'Five Fingers' (can't say I recommend it), but I did fall asleep pretty quickly when it was over.

Pre-Race

So this was actually the first time I have ever traveled to this race as a solo venture, as I normally have a friend or team mate coming from my neck of the woods with whom I can carpool. I set the alarm for 5:50ish, got up when it went off, had some toast, packed the car, and was on my way. I cranked out to some of the tunes I listened to while training for the half-iron in April, so I the endorphins started firing while I was in the car (I think this is similar to Pavlov's dog). I made decent time to the race course, found a parking spot, and made my way to the team's reserved bike rack.  After racking my bike, I went to the registration table and got my number and saw who else was signed up for the race. I noticed that Matt 'The Terror' Pera , a triathlete that has won the clydesdale class every single time I have entered this race, was signed up for the race (I just made up that nickname for his ruthless reign over the clydesdale class - in reality he is a super nice guy). I came 49 seconds away from beating him last time, but alas I was the first loser (though I was still a winner in my mind - and likely my mom's mind, I'm always a winner in her mind - for having a PR that day). I got my arms and legs marked, put the band-aids on my chest (I'm afflicted with runners nipple), set up my transition area, and did a little stretching.  I got my wetsuit on, made my way down to the water, and did a few strokes for warmup. When my wave was ready to go, I lined up in the appropriate position, and waited for the countdown to begin.

The Swim

As stated earlier, my swim training has been somewhat lax over the last month (this isn't good considering I have a half-iron next week), so I decided to take it somewhat slow. This swim course has 3 legs, a leg to the north, a longer leg to the east (right into the rising/blinding sun), and the home stretch with a leg to the south. The first leg went relatively smooth, and I was refreshed at how much easier it is to swim in a wetsuit vice the birthday suit (with swim trunks on of course). I swam straight to the first buoy, drafting off of a few different guys, then made a sharp right turn and headed off on the long stretch. Along this stretch, my lack of swim training started to show as my arms were starting to feel a bit tired.  I decided to apply the same logic that I had used in other sports (and been told by other coaches), to simply keep your head down, push thru the wall, and keep going.  While this strategy has worked relatively well in other sports, I can't say it was the best idea in open water swimming.  While I felt like I was making great strides, and for all intents and purposes I really was, when I finally looked up I realized I was woefully off course, blazing a path to the wrong side of the lake. I corrected myself, and got back online, but spent the rest of the swim doing buoy sightings every 30 seconds or so, for fear that I was going to zig-zag my way to a mile swim on a half mile course. The last leg was relatively uneventful, however I did act as a pinball between two other big dudes who weren't interested in giving me the right of way to the buoy. All in all, a decent swim...though I don't really have a good idea what my time was as I forgot to hit my watch (this became a theme throughout the race); somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 minutes is about right.

Transition 1

While I ended up having a decent race overall, both of my transitions were a comedy of errors, mishaps, and transition no-nos. I got to my stuff, and I had originally thought that I might sit on the curb which was next to my transition spot, but I made an on-the-spot decision to sit on my towel. I got the wetsuit off rather quickly, but then hadn't really figured out a place to put it, since all of the other bikes were still on the racks. Once I got the wetsuit somewhat tossed to the side, of course I hadn't allocated space to sit down, so I shoved everything around to try and sit down.  Then I began reaching behind me to wipe my feet off, and get my socks and bike shoes on. I got my helmet and sunglasses on, and then realized I hadn't hit my lap counter on my watch to get my swim split, so I paused and debated in my mind if I should hit it then, or just wait until I got on the bike. I don't have any pockets on my tri-suit, so as I tried to shove my Tri-Berry Gu into my pant leg and it promptly fell out, so I had to pause and get it again. I went to retrieve my bike off the rack, and being somewhat large in girth and stature and having a bike frame to match, my seat and handlebars don't easily go under the rack. So after tussling with that for a few seconds, I finally was ready to go, and I ran out of the transition area...it was ugly.

The Bike

So as always, I am excited to be on the bike portion of the tri, as I feel at this point it is my strongest aspect of the race. Since my last race, I had gotten a few new accessories (new helmet and wheels) that I was certain would catapult me to new heights on the bike. While I haven't done any actual wind tunnel testing or scientific analysis, I was relatively confident that my $19.99 helmet from Wal-Mart which I had bought last year and been using for all my previous races, was causing significant drag and was limiting my performances by an enormous factor. I convinced my wife that a new helmet would not only make me look less like a mushroom, but it would also allow me to reach my true potential without being held back by aerodynamic handicaps; she rolled her eyes at me but seemed to be convinced. The wheels I got are supposedly more aerodynamic, but in my 3 training rides with them, I had gotten 3 flats...2 from misplaced rim-tape, and one from a thorn. So in the back of my mind I was always concerned about flats, but I wasn't going to let that affect my performance.  So I cranked on the bike and began passing a decent number of people on the way out. Around 7 miles into the bike ride I passed Matt 'The Terror' Pera, and we chatted for a second in passing. After the turn around I decided to pound the Tri-Berry Gu that I had stashed in my leg, so I let up on the relentless hammering I had been doing and ingested the Gu. At this same point, The Terror came up from behind and passed me again; now in my mind's game plan that wasn't supposed to happen. I did a quick internal strategy session, and decided that I would hammer the bike course the entire way back to try and put some distance between me and The Terror thus giving me a cushion for the run. I put my head down and started pounding (you may remember this same technique from the swim), though I did keep my eyes on the road so I wouldn't crash. I overtook The Terror and never looked back, as I hammered the 8 miles back to the transition. I did get passed by one dude in a baby-blue TT/skin-suit, and decided that I would have none of that (I think I would've been intimidated by a dude in black or navy blue, or even by a guy in a Captain America suit like the one I wear...but baby blue...no way), so I repassed him on an uphill. Of course while I was feeling good about moving so quickly on the bike, I quickly realized I was on the edge of anaerobic threshold, which isn't a great place to be with another 30-35 minutes to go; however I had my plan, and I decided to stick with it.  I felt like I finished very strong on the bike, and although I wasn't turning around to see what distance I had thrown down on my adversaries, I felt comfortable that I had a cushion.

Transition 2 (Comedy of Errors: Act 2)

Well, I seemed to pick up where I left off with regard to the second transition. I didn't make the same mistake that I made in the June where I dismounted the bike one row over from where I thought I was and wasted time trying to find my stuff; however this appeared to be the only thing I did right in this transition. So I get to my transition spot, and much like the 18 month old child who continuously tries to put the square peg in the round hole, and try as he might it doesn't fit the first time, or the second, or the third time, but he figures, 'I imagine it will fit the 4th time', so he tries again...and this continues until a) he starts crying or b)he smashes the square peg thru the hole and makes it go in. I ended up with tactic 'b' as I tried to rack my bike, and couldn't get the handlebars or seat under the rack. After futzing with it for an eternity and nearly toppling the rack and sending it and other people's stuff flying, I was able to angle the bike to get it to stay; of course it was precariously hanging there at the odd angle...sure to be knocked off by someone. I was able to get my shoes off quickly, and pull my running shoes on with my Yankz laces. After losing concentration with my bike racking problems, I took off on the run with my race belt and number, sunglasses, and bike helmet (this was likely due to the sweet comfort of my new helmet - its as if it wasn't even there).  After taking a few steps, I realized that I still had it on, so I turned around and ran back to my spot to take it off. I think I was giving the fans a good laugh, but I was also giving away the cushion I had built up on The Terror...so it goes in this sport.

The Run

So as I mentioned in the training section, I have been spending a decent amount of time on the treadmill at the YMCA the past few weeks, and I've been able to crank up the pace a little; to which I have been pleased. Now I should mention that I haven't done a single brick workout, and I did come off the bike with a decent amount of lactic acid in the legs. I took off on the run, and was immediately feeling the burn, but I did remember that this out and back course was a bit tougher on the way out, and a bit easier on the way back. About 300 yards into the run, I rounded a corner, and was about to see The Terror about 100 yards behind me; it appeared that my transition had cost me a little more than I had hoped, as I was hoping I wouldn't see him until the turn around point. About 2-3 minutes into the run I could feel my heart rate totally racing, and I wasn't able to catch my breath. I wasn't sure what kind of pace I was running, but mentally I had The Terror closing in on me so I wanted to break him (I figured that if he could see me accelerate on the run, he may give up his chase, and then I could coast a little bit). I definitely wanted to slow down a bit to get my breath, but it didn't seem to be working out too well. I got to the first mile marker, and I had done a 6:50 first mile...far faster than I had anticipated, and likely the fastest mile I have done in 10 years. I got a drink at the aid station, and pressed forward to the 1.5 mile turn around point; along the way I saw my buddy Jeff from the tri club (who ended up finishing first in his AG and 10th overall) and we exchanged hi-fives and encouragement. At the turnaround, I wasn't too excited with what I saw, as I saw that The Terror had gained on me, and seemed to be in good spirits (we smiled and encouraged each other as we passed one another – great sportsmanship...you've got to love tris). I figured I would hammer away and try to get some distance as the return trip was supposed to be easier. With just under a mile to go, I caught a glimpse and saw that he was about 20 yards behind me. I formulated my strategy, as I figured he was going to catch up to me, pace off of me staying 5-10 feet back, and then kick around me with 100 yards or so to go. I decided that I would stay steady until about 300 yards to go, and then increase my pace, and then with 150 yards to go, I would begin an all out spastic body convulsing sprint. At about a half mile to go, I could hear the heavy footsteps behind me, so I figured he was doing exactly as I thought. I stuck with my strategy, and started my acceleration about 300 yards out, and he seemed to match me step for step, breath for breath, and stride for stride, so I gave it all I had at 150 yards. I could still hear heavy breathing and footsteps over my shoulder, so I dug deep into the innards of my soul (I was hurtin at this point mind you), thinking of every Wheaties box I had ever seen, mentally replaying great Olympic moments which had brought me to tears in years past, internalizing great philosophical quotes related to sports and the indomitable human will, calling upon the fighting spirits of Captain America and Wolverine (those who I represented with my uni-suit and mutton chops), reaching out for any bastion of perseverance which would carry me through the last 75 yards as my body was no longer capable of running on fuel, it needed to run on a higher power. The announcer called out that there was a sprint finish coming down the chute (of course in my mind I imagine that all fellow athletes, women, children, and likely canines stopped with their banter and became transfixed upon what was transpiring before them) so this spurred me on to continue to push hard.  In the end, I was victorious against the heavy breathing, stride matching assailant, who, as it turns out, was not The Terror, but another age group athlete who was simply trying to beat me to the line. The Terror ended up finishing 20 seconds behind me, and I exchanged knuckles (in a good way, not a fisticuff way) and congratulations with my mysterious pursuer who had pushed me so very hard. After I composed myself, I went and chatted with The Terror, as I had never actually talked with him before (little did he know that he was the focus of my training and race). He was a very nice guy, and very gracious about the race we just had. He was a pleasure to talk with, as we reviewed the race and I let him know that I had been looking out for him, and was uneasy when I saw his name on the list of competitors as I knew it wouldn't be an easy day. Unfortunately in all of the excitement I forgot to hit my watch, so I didn't get my run split, but I imagine it was somewhere around the 22 minute mark...all in all a decent, albeit painful run.

Aftermath

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