My First Olympic
Without going into all the background to my doing my first two sprint triathlons this summer ( see “How I Lost My Virginity” – or maybe not, if that was never, uh, disseminated for public reading), suffice to say that I placed 7/28 in AG in the first, 7/41 in my second, and inspired by the gods on high (that is, those mythic Ironmen) I wanted to do similarly in this, my first Olympic distance. The challenge was neither to be struck down for hubris (consistent with the Olympic/Greek gods theme) nor lose sight of doing this for, and competing against, myself. I’m not really sure why I was doing this, but I wanted to do it the best I could.
Left Peter’s 50th birthday party at 8:30 the night before, without a drop of those fine single malts, to get up at 3:30 a.m. and eat what coach Debi had recommended (as following her directions since March had proven good results to date), most of which I had tried once during training: apple sauce with protein powder, a banana and sports drink; plus, a mostly decaf espresso.
No matter how well I prepare the night before – tri bag packed, 3-week old road bike (oh, baby!) in the car,espresso machine primed – it always takes me an hour to get out the door. But no problem, I’ve worked that sad reality into the equation, and I’m at Rye Playland for the Jarden Westchester Tri as they open transition. Body marked with the magic 1336 (in an inspired moment, I determined that 1336 = 6 to the 4th, + 40. Ah, if I were only 40, that might mean something…), laid out my stuff. A few bites of my soybean butter and honey sandwich some 2 1/2 hours before race time, pump fists with buddies Drew and Dave, and chat with neighbors, most pretty seasoned, some nubes like me.
Big difference with this race: i measured the distance from swim to my bike in transition (a whopping 110 or 120 paces!) and swam a bit before starting time. (Next time: bring everything needed for the race start before warming up for swim, including the disposable water bottle and caffeine gel. Going back and dropping off my glasses was a drag). So for the first time, I wasn’t freaked out by the feel of the water and the exertion of swimming. In fact, it was a gorgeous morning: Long Island Sound was absolutely flat, the water was 72 or 73 degrees, the sun was coming up (ok, directly into our eyes as we squinted for the buoys) and I actually felt ready for this craziness. Granted, I was literally shivering while I waited (despite the sleeveless wetsuit) but even that was a realistic way to deal with the jitters.
Wave 12 of 13 was a long time to wait- 8:00 a.m. before we started.. After much worrying abut the infamous mosh pit of this swim, I settled on starting in the second of three rows, close to center. I reasoned that I was too slow for the first row, but too fast for the back, and as Drew had suggested, it would be better to be crawled over than to do the crawling. Worked out great – scarcely a tussle. Started off, and it felt like … I was swimming.
While I struggled with thinking that I might be going the wrong way, or that I was a LOT slower than the surrounding guys, I eventually started passing people in other colored swim caps. (that is, younger athletes from prior waves.) So, blinded by the sun, we took the first buoy (just 400 metrers), then the second (another 200), rounded the third (100 or so) to head straight in towards the towers (just 800 meters). Really dug into reaching out, scooping into the water ahead of me, pulling smooth , rolling my hips, breathing was relaxed, and it was the first time I felt strong rather than panicked in a race. Sighting was pretty efficient, except: Curiously, the towers looked different from the water, with an interesting structure beneath them… Turns out, that was the breakwater, and if not for a sardonic kayaker, I had almost swum beyond the entrance to the bay where the finish line awaited! So, i must have swum an extra 100-200 yds. As it was, the buoys had to be moved just before the race began, and the course was 1.1 miles. Finish: 31:38, 24/85 AG, 251/1010 OA.. My fastest mile (Or mile plus A little extra), finally getting some speed from the wetsuit.
Long run to transition, but managed to slip into those bike shoes no socks and no problem (practice and sticking to game plan worked out). Without a bento box (next time!) one of my energy gels slipped out of the gaffer’s tape holding them to my bike as I left transition (oh, no! Penalty? No one saw or cared), but I had two more and I scarcely remembered to finish the second one by the end of the ride.. T1: 2:46, including that long run up from the beach.
The ride had lots of sharp turns going through the village of Rye, and the police held back traffic wonderfully (“thank you, officer” I panted – one of whom responded, “go! Ride!”) those turns through town were fine on flats and going into uphills, but hairy when we came back as we’re all trying to use the downhill momentum. One medium, too long climbs, but not very steep (certainly not compared to my side of the County)- the last, on Airport Road, full of broken concrete.
Called out “on your left” a lot, was only passed by guys with aero bars (next time, clip on bars?), including two guys in my age group (50-54) who I passed, they passed me, etc. At one point I realized that the guy in dark grey and blue was drafting off the guy in red. The temptation to cheat with them was strong, and then the temptation to yell at them (“gee, I’m new here, are you allowed to draft in triathlonns?”) or at least get their bib numbers. But alas, shortly after I passed them, I foolishly shifted both gears at once and my chain fell off and got stuck by the crank shaft. the good news is that I had meticulously cleaned my bike the day before (it feels so respectful of the machine, y’know?) so i was comfortable putting it back on, and it cost me less than a minute or so. At least, I keep telling myself that because the guy who ultimately placed ahead of me in my age group beat me by 1:04. HRM strap was slipping, so I adjusted, and it unsnapped; I tucked in my shirt to avoid losing it. Some scary single lane downhills because riders weren’t getting out of the passing lane, and taking turns too wide, and sometimes we had oncoming trafic in the opposite lane. I later learned someone actually was hospitalized, and another guy with a torn up shirt from accidents. Hated to slow down (I really sprinted after that lost chain incident), and too small a finish line/entrance to transition, but managed not to get hurt. Bottom line: 25 miles, 1:18:30, 19/85 AG, 216/1010 OA
T2 went well, cashing in on my practicing getting socks and running shoes on. (If not for my running cap, I might have forgotten to take off my helmet again, like T2 in my first sprint!)
The run was painful. Just as it started, my fabulous wife yelled out for me (wow!) and when I turned back on the short loop into the nature presrve, she called out again: “great job! you’re almost done!”. To which I said, “no, but thank you…” By mile 1.5, I was really ready to stop, thank you. My HRM said I was running at 155 bpm, much higuer than I had trained but seemed acceptable. but then it leaped to 162 and I thought that I couldn’t sustain that for 4 more miles. (Debi, we have to talk…) So i slowed down and brought it down to 155, 157, and slugged along, watching that tall guy in my age group with the “Mossman” tri shirt (from a half-Ironman race?) run with me, pass me, and bit by bit get two blocks, then three blocks away… Damn, there goes my bunny. (what will I chase now?).
Lots of spectators, little kids psasing out cups of water and lookng for high fives; I felt like Scrooge (bah, humbug!) finding them distracting, and only managed to take 2 or 3 sips the whole race. And forget the shot blocks to eat in my back pocket! Ultimately I made it, and managed to have a good kick left for the last, well, 50-100 yds on the grass. Bottom line: 49:40, 8:01 minute miles, 19/85 AG, 221/1010 OA
Lessons learned: despite the discomfort of the 10k – and if it was comfortable, I wouldn’t have been working hard enough- I had fun. Warming up in the water (even if only to freeze while I waited) was more important psychologically than anything else. This was the culmination of my first season of competing in anything. I want to do more, and I have the potential for more and faster races in the future.