It's been a long while since I've posted. Work is taking up more time than ever...but those that have followed know that this is a good thing after being caught up in corporate downsize 12 months ago. It's a new day with new challenges.
The latest challenge was Sunday July 18th participating in the Racine 70.3 Ironman event. To some swimming 1.2 miles, biking 56 miles, and running 13.1 miles may seem ridiculous, but to me its a challenge. This is the second time that I've completed this particular race. The first one was last year and the circumstances were completely different. At that point, I was ready to participate until a week prior I found that my position was being eliminated. That left me without focus and without following a training plan. By the time the event came, I didn't really realize what I was going to endure. When it was all over, my body was a wreck.
This time around, I'm a little wiser. I trained smarter and listened to my body realizing that the day after the event I still need to be able to be a husband and father. The day prior to the event Kim and the kids came with me to register and drop my bike off in the transition area. This is a good time to shop for pricy triathlon apparel and look at all the latest gadgets that pros use to go faster and age-groupers just spend money on to say they have it. Yes, triathlon is over commercialized, but I'm still hooked.
While dropping the bike off we stumbled onto a fishing tournament where we were able to see a world record brown trout caught by a 22 year old weighing 41.15LBS. It was unbelievable. Where else can you see a world record trout at a triathlon??
That night was a little different since my bike was in transition, my wet suit was packed, helmet, shoes, and tri-shorts and shirt were all ready. The only thing to do was go to sleep. That didn't go so well since I drank so much water throughout the day that the water works began about 2:00am and lasted until 4:00am when I was planning on waking up anyway.
Now that I'm up and relatively awake I get dressed and there isn't that overwhelming anxiety that comes with each event. I was calm which was really unusual, but a welcome visitor since Racine is about 40 minutes away. The ride went smooth until I found about 100 other participants on the roadway. There was a great deal of drafting and the anxiety began since the start was getting closer.
Once at the event, I find a parking place hop out and begin unpacking and packing everything to make sure I have what I need. After beginning to feel a huge weight on my shoulders and touching each needed item more than once in the truck and creating a complete yard sale of items throughout the vehicle I begin to put it all back in the bag and head to transition.
On my way to transition I feel the energy and walk past the row of professional riders. As luck would have it I see Chris McCormick next to his bike and decide to introduce myself and wish him luck. To those that don't know Chris McCormick, he is a pro-athlete that won the Hawaii Ironman 2 times in a row. It seemed casual that I would shake hands with an individual that can earn a living from a sport he loves and I love, but as luck has it I'm in the wrong gene pool.
Arriving at my bike, I begin to unpack my bag and spread out my goodies. To my SHOCK I don't have my bike computer. What's that...I DON'T HAVE MY BIKE COMPUTER!!! That's horrible. That's like driving a car without a speedometer or traveling to a party without directions. YOU FEEL LOST!!! Only one thing to do now and that is run back to my truck and try to find it. I get my running shoes on and take off. About 3 minutes later I realize that I don't have my keys and need to run back into transition area where 2000 other participants are getting ready for their event. This is like swimming downstream during spawning season...its slow...very slow.
Luckily, I find my bike computer right where I left it in the truck and head back. On my way back I see two people running. At first I don't think anything of it since it appears that they are almost sprinting. However, it turns out that it is my new friend Chris McCormick and fellow pro athlete taking a quick warm up. Their warm up was faster than my one time haul ass, run away from the burning building as fast as you can effort. I guess that is why they are professionals.
Back in transition I get my bike computer all set up, shoes in the pedals, helmet staged, running shoes and socks ready, some food, and sun glasses all ready for my next visit after the swim portion of the event. I grab my wetsuit, new goggles, and head to the lake for the start. No more nerves at this point. I'm ready to begin.
At the start line, it is hysterical to see hundreds of men and women pretend that they are warming up when they are actually trying to pee in the lake. Never open your mouth at a triathlon swim start. The water quality has to be worse than the outlet pipe at Jones Island from Milwaukee's Metropolitan Sewerage District.
As the professionals are just about set to begin their quest for prize money, the announcers says something that I can't hear. Moments later the loudest cannon goes off and there I am soiling myself standing among thousands of people. Good thing I patched the holes in my wetsuit or I would have begun to leak on the beach! Not a pretty feeling.
Finally, the moment when my wave begins. I get set with my recently glued wetsuit and new goggles at the start line ready to break the 5 hour mark (only 10 minutes faster than last year...that's doable right?). The gun goes off - no cannon since that is only for the professional athletes and not the ones that actually finance the sport - and I'm in the water running like the wind. It's time for my first dive and then everything goes dark. My goggles end up around my neck and my eyes are burning from all the pee in the water. I quickly get my goggles back on and find that my right goggle leaks. I try several times to get the goggle to seat unsuccessfully. After rounding the first turn buoy I try again to get the goggles to seat. Still doesn't work. Now I'm beginning to panic and watch time click off the clock. In the end I swim with one eye under water and spot with the other eye. It took 10 minutes to begin to feel comfortable in the water, but eventually it worked.
Coming out of the water and being able to see in what seems to be one dimension I see the chute we need to run through to get back to transition. Goggles are off now and I can finally begin to see out of both eyes. I see what looks like a 1/4 mile to run before you get to the transition area and it felt like 10 miles!
In and out of transition in no time and on the bike. The lovely bike where if you get tired you can coast. If you're hungry, you can eat. If you're thirsty, you can drink. The bike is heavenly when it comes to this sport. At least, that is until there's a massive head wind and you begin to feel what appears to be a little chaffing in the nether regions. In the end, the bike is reatively uneventful. However, I did notice how the professional riders were able to ride single file and close to one another. They get all the special attention and the leader gets to draft off of the police escort. I'm sure they were going close to 28MPH when they past me going the opposite direction.
Coming back into transition ready to begin a short run I feel that 5:00 was a little aggressive. I'm fact I need to complete the run in 1:32 to make it in 5 hours. While I was approaching mile one I hear some cheering and see a motor cycle with a clock on top and my good friend Chris McCormick running like a cheetah with only one mile to go! I wanted to yell and ask if he would wait for me at the finish, but he wouldn't have heard me anyway.
Three miles in on the run and I begin doing a system's check. I realize that after 3 miles I'm going at a slow pace...about 9:30 per mile. I think to myself what could be going on to make me run like this. As it turns out the heat began to rise and my body was thinking up crazy ways to trick me into think I was running fast to keep cool. It keeps getting hotter and hotter on the run until these black clouds roar in and begin to release a gentle cool rain shower. 5 minutes of bliss. My pace seems to pick up and I'm smiling. This was short lived since the gentle rain turned into a down pour that was deafening. I couldn't hear the person I was running next to nor anyone in the water stations calling out their wares.
I begin walking as do most of the people around me. It was hard to see anything with all the rain. Then as quick as the rain started it stopped. The sun came out and blessed us with rising temps. Not bad, but the temp could have stopped at 80 versus shooting up to 96 degrees with thick humid air. This is when I could have begun filming a made for TV movie.
The body can go through a great deal without showing signs of rejection. However, I witnessed a great deal of bodies rejecting their owner. There was lovely projectile vomiting, crippling falls, and in one case it appeared that someone was in convulsions with aid works screaming for medical staff. I would love to say that I purposefully decided to slow my pace down at this point, but my body did that for me. I couldn't have run faster if my life depended on it. The brain said go, but the body said "look I'll get you to the finish line, but we're doing it my way."
The remainder of the run was slow and steady. I found a granny gear and kept it at that pace. Walked through almost all water stations eating, drinking, and loads of ice in the shorts. That's refreshing at 96 degrees.
As the temp kept rising, the finish line kept getting closer. Although finishing is an accomplishment, it didn't have the same appeal this year as last year. I came across the finish line and forgot to complete my cartwheel. I've done that at all of the events I've finished. Not sure why I didn't at this one and maybe that's why this event felt different.
No, I'm not giving up on this sport. It is too much fun and the event is only a portion of the experience. Great training partners and challenging yourself to different courses and events is all part of the experience and lifestyle. In the end, I wouldn't change a thing.
