The Swim (3/4 Mile)
I started at the left side because I read that weaker swimmers should avoid the middle. Now I'm not a weak swimmer, but I knew that at least half the field would be faster likely because I didn't get enough training in. Well, the left side is like the middle. I immediately felt hands hitting my legs, my feet, my side...for those of you who play video games, all I could think of were zombies pawing at me...it was that creepy. Lesson #1: Stay to the right or get attacked by zombies. But there were other problems, like the temperature. I chose to wear a sleeveless suit because the water was only supposed to be 65 degrees. I say that like it's not cold because apparently I have no clue about water temp. I found out today that the lap pool I use is 84 deg. That's a 20 deg difference! I was one of the few with a sleeveless wetsuit. I dove in and started paddling to the cadence of all the splashing...which means too fast, but that lasted about 5 seconds because all of a sudden I couldn't breathe. It was so cold it shocked me. I was almost hyper-ventilating. Not to be daunted I shoved my face back in and started stroking again, 1, 2, 3, 4, what the heck is going on?! Why is my face so cold? I look at others to see if they're feeling the same way, and yes, a good handful around me are. Then I look at them and play the "what do they have that I don't?" game. Ah, yes...and I reach up onto my forehead and pull my goggles onto my eyes. LOL. I was so calm and cool at the start that when the guy started down-counting I was caught off-guard. I hoped that this small amount of plastic and foam around my eyes would warm my face. No luck. As I watched the second person swim to the shore --to quit-- I spent a half second considering doing the same. That's how breathless I felt. I now understood why people in the back of the earlier waves looked like they were wading in the lake. It was effing cold! Lesson #2: Understand water temp and dress accordingly.
I started breast-stroking with the dozen or so like me and told myself "just breathe, it'll slow." I tried backstroking and that lasted 5 seconds. What felt like 10 minutes (and was probably 4) I was probably not even 100 yds out when I tried freestyle again and found myself acclimated. The mass group in my wave was already at the first buoy. It took me forever to get there (my friend said the same thing) and the second buoy looked to be at least 1 1/2 times the distance. When I reached the buoy, I was in a rhythm. I practice breathing every third stroke to alternate sides but was forced to breathe every other stroke because I still felt out of breath. I passed some swimmers from the previous two waves having a tough time and started being passed by some of the Masters swimmers (older than my group). At any given time, there were probably only 5 people around me and wouldn't you know it? yep, zombies. I read about sighting buoys to swim straight and thought, "that's for people who aren't athletic or have a clue." Lesson #3: Stop thinking what people write in articles doesn't apply to you. One smart thing I did was wear ear plugs. The cold water would have been brutal in my ears and one more distraction. I remember thinking "good call, Bill."
Transition 1
I reached the shore trying to pass that last person or two and immediately stood up to run toward the ropes guiding us into the Transition Area. My calves were cramping. I don't even remember kicking that hard but they were tight and I managed to run at about 75% speed, past the transition timer and into the bike rack area, being sure to remove my cap, goggles and ear plugs and taking my wetsuit down to my waist. I recall being in the 6th row on the right and the numbers were posted on the side. I still ran to the 7th row then laughed and backtracked passing some guy who probably laughed at me. I pulled my wetsuit off my legs and strapped my helmet on (penalty if you leave without it strapped and I read enough articles that put this first, so that's what I do). I pulled the towel off my shoes (because I actually had foresight with the rain) and put on my Oakleys (w/ orange "dusk" lenses that make me look like a hunter). I had my socks rolled back but they were wet from the rain and I knew it would take me forever to get them on, so I called an audible and put my bike shoes on barefoot...or at least tried to.If you've ever strained any part of your abdomen muscles, you learn quickly just how much you use them for everything you do. Well, I discovered that you use your calf muscles when putting shoes on, and it's difficult to do while standing. Part of my problem is the geniuses who were so excited to sell me my bike on Thanksgiving Eve were also so excited to sell me the most expensive biking shoes (they're pretty high-end and I treated myself due to a generous gift card from a friend). They completely disregarded my annoyingly repetitive statements that I was going to be racing triathlons. So my really cool shoes with dials are completely WRONG for triathlons, essentially because I can't pull the tongue back and just slip in and velcro strap them.
You have to admit, these are sweeeeet!
Most triathletes will clip their shoes into their bike ahead of time so they can run faster to the mounting area (you have to run your bike to the spot that could be 50 to 70 yds away). Then, they pedal with their feet on top of the shoes until they reach a good pace, then slip their feet in and velcro. Lesson #4: Don't trust your bike shop guy. But since you need to be able to, find a different bike shop guy. (They also didn't do a proper fitting, which I had to pay $125 for at rocknroadcyclery.net...which has resolved my back pain issues). Anyway, I got into my gear, put my Hammer Gel in my back pocket and took off. [A few notes here: 1. in case it wasn't clear, we wear our race uni under our wet suit and 2. I only took gel because of the short race distance...if it was longer, I would have had a solid to eat].
Bicycle Leg (24 mi.)
This. Was. Awesome! After clip-clopping my bike over to the end of the transition mat sounding like a Clydesdale, I quickly mounted my bike...only to remember that I was supposed to put it in a higher gear for an easy pedal start. That's a quick fix and my Shimano Ultegra shifters are quick. But Lesson #5: Make sure you set your gear on a higher gear for an easier start. People crowded the front to mount their bikes because they're clueless about getting to the side...it was actually a problem for my buddy, McCune. The best part was that it was a 30-yd uphill start. Nothing like an uphill to get the legs pounding and separate the men from the boys. The asphalt was rough, and I smiled at the fact that I have Zertz in my forks and saddle post because my Roubaix is awesome! My ride would be a little more comfortable on this rough road. We basically had to ride a large square for two laps and we started about 1/2 mile West to get to the square. All I could think of was catching every guy in my wave to make up for my awful swim.
Turns out that biking is my strongest leg at this point (I thought running would be). We rode on wet pavement in the rain with a light head and lateral wind and I averaged 21 mph. McCune averaged 24-25 mph and the top guys probably averaged b/n 26 and 27 mph. Considering I started biking approx. 4 months prior, I was very happy and expect to reach 25 mph on courses that have hills by the end of the year. What's great is that I passed scores of people. What's also great is that everytime I thought I was awesome, I'd hear zZZzzz zzZZZzzz zzZZZzz and some stud or studette would go flying by me with his disc wheel, probably thinking how awesome he was (women tend to be more humble ;-))
What I love about road biking is that you can be cranking at a high cadence and, unless you're going up a long hill, you can chat with people around you...which is what I did. "Wet enough for ya?" Okay, I didn't say that, but it WAS raining on us the entire time. I didn't notice it mostly, except for the tiny stream in the road I constantly was trying to avoid -- 20 feet wide of road, but it's like a moth to the flame...flirting with that little stream of negative mph water. As I entered Lap 2 the early wave group (pros) were taking a left back to the transition area. I didn't like feeling like they had lapped me but it helped to know that they had a decent head start, though some of them were probably from my wave! The second lap was the same as the first. I did find some people to pace with (just by sight since drafting isn't allowed) and that helped pass the time. I enjoyed the little mini-competitions I would build in my head with them.
Transition 2
I reached the transition mat where people seemed to have difficulty with the concept of braking to a stop and dismounting. It wasn't the wet rims either. They just seemed clueless. I clip-clopped to my spot, racked my bike, and took off my awesome non-triathlon shoes. Calves still strained. Worse. I had to sit down and couldn't pull my running shoes on (they have Yankz laces and the tongues were pulled back). I stood up and took my helmet off and noted I had nothing else to remove for the run. We were by a lake and there was gravel on my wet feet now. I figured it would all come off as I slipped my shoes on. Lesson #7: gravel does NOT magically fall off your feet when putting shoes on with wet feet. Standing and in calf pain, I shoved my shoes on, walked over to the curb and did 10 second stretches for each calf. I knew I couldn't run without it and was willing to eat the time (this is ironic as you'll see later). I felt some gravel in my shoes (top and bottom) but figured it would all be good. My feet were still cold from the lake and the vents in my shoes letting in the cold air and that numbness served me well with my gravel-filled shoes...at least for the 6.2 miles. I took off running for the Transition end and my cool gel bottle (about 5 inches tall) was bouncing up and down in my back shirt pocket. Do I go back? Do I throw the bottle to the side? It was only $4 but it was my newest acquisition. So I decided to carry it. I hate carrying things when I run. I told myself it would be my security blanket. And it was.
The Run (6.2 Mi.)
As I ran, I noticed my hips were tight and my chest was tight. I blamed the cold and the long ride. I shifted into an easy pace and figured I'd warm up in the first mile. I was probably running 8:30 min./mi. and didn't care. The first station had electrolyte drinks and I took one just to make sure I was hydrated. I was actually full and probably didn't need any more...but then I still took a swig of my Hammer Gel for energy. The first 1/4 mile was where I found my oasis...a bathroom. I needed one since Mile 4 on the bike and it was pressing on me the whole ride. That 25 second detour felt like I dropped 10 lbs as I ran a little lighter on my feet. My right rib was still tight and it actually took me 2 miles to warm up. A handful of good runners passed me and I didn't like it. The run for them was what the bike ride was for me.
I did pass this guy at Mile 5
We ran twice around the lake and somewhere my pace moved to my steady coast of about 7:50 min./mile. I don't think I could have cranked it up anymore. My buddy McCune passed me at about the 2.5 mile spot and I was happy for him. He started 8 or 12 minutes before me (2 waves) so I figured he had me beat by 20 minutes or so, which is exactly what I expected. It sucks running past the finish line to do another 3 mile lap, but that's how it goes. The 2nd lap was uneventful though I tried to pose for some photos and the annoying gravel in my shoes was, well, still annoying. I crossed the finish line to nobody cheering me. I don't race for that, but it's fun to have someone waiting. Then my FB OC Sprint Tri Social buddy, Josh, called me out and congratulated me. So, I had Josh. Not some hot woman...or my kids,
but Josh...it was good enough. Post-race is always anti-climactic, especially in the rain. So I grabbed some bananas and oranges and looked for a protein shake booth but the booths lagged at this event. Event Fail.Final Stats:
Swim: 00:26:20
T1: 00:03:50
Bike: 1:11:00
T2: 00:03:25
Run: 00:48:45 (7:51 min./mi. pace)
Total Time: 1:33:40
My goal was to beat 1:30:00. So close. My swim cost me at least 4 minutes and my calves cost me a good 1 1/2 minutes. All in all I was pleased with my first race, which included some less-than-perfect conditions.
Post Race (2 Important Lessons)
As I gathered my things, I noticed blood coming through my left shoe. I immediately thought of Danica (chicrunner.com) because her toes bleed when she runs. One of these days, one of her blood stains will look like Jesus or Mary and crowds will come to touch her bloody shoe or sock.
I took off my shoes and saw one of my toes was rubbed raw on top. Oh well, that's racing. I put my Uggs on (yes, I wear them because I'm cool). Only when I got home and into the jacuzzi did I realize how bad my feet were from the gravel. Pain. A two inch long gouge on my left foot (probably a scrape from forcing the shoe on) and 3 different open cuts on my right from gravel just sitting there. Lesson #8: When you're not even close to winning the race, or even your Age Group, take the extra 10 seconds to wipe the gravel from your feet. (<--here's the irony of stopping to stretch my calves but not wiping my feet). It took 10 days for the gouge to heal enough for me to run and killed my ability to train even on the bike. I limped around the office like the O.C. who couldn't hack it up that last bike hill. Other Lessons: This also prevented me from taking a slow recovery run the next day or two after. Consequently, my calves were tight for a good week or so. I stretched poorly and didn't get a massage. These are necessary following future races. I bought compression calf sleeves which seemed to help my latest bike ride. You can get compression socks at many tri and bike stores. I prefer onetri.com because I think their prices are fair (and they're about 4 fwy miles from my office). But I've recently learned from my marathon friends that recovery is the last part of the race. Well, a big carb-crash burger and fries and shake and/or s'mores are the last part, but it's important to remember that the race isn't over at the Finish Line.
So there you have it! My first triathlon and all kinds of lessons learned. Some were highlighted, and others are simple hints you can emulate (ear plugs, set-up, etc.). I've since raced another triathlon and had more success, but still learned other things. But that's a much shorter blog to come...
Happy Training,
Bill
Bill, I don't intend to ever compete in a marathon, but I really enjoyed reading about your experience. I'm impressed!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lisa! (I just saw this now). ;-)
ReplyDelete