Race Report

I spent a lazy day about the house, and probably didn't eat as much as I should have. I read an article abut not eating fruits and vegetables and powerbars before a race because it can make you have to go to the bathroom and it confused me as I didn't know what else to eat.

I got all my stuff ready (swim goggles, power bars, gatorade, towel, etc) and left about 4:45. I wanted to get there early to meet up with people from my class. I got about a half mile away and realized I was missing something -- my bike! D'oh! I spun around, got home, put the bike rack on, put the bike on, and then was looking for my bungee cord to hold the tire steady, and I found it -- in my bicycle helmet on a stack of boxes. I took the bungee cord and helmet (they won't let you race without one) and was back on the road in no time. I got up on the highway and gridlock -- the kind that is so tight, you can't even change lanes. A half hour later I wasn't even to the next exit. I finally pulled into the breakdown lane and drove a mile on the left (which I could do because I was aiming for a left hand exit to get off the highway, which I did). I then had to negotiate Hartford's city streets at rush hour and believe me I did some excellent racing heading for the Founder's Bridge, which goes right to Route 2. Then when I finally got to Route 2, I had to lay down some serious speed just to make it. I got to the Park at 6:20 to find the lot completely full. Bill, our triathlon class coach, was directing traffic. I had to park by the road on an embankment, and then rush down to the sign up area, get my number marker on my bicep and ankle, then rush in to take a long long pee, then run to get my timing chip, and then dash to the water for the start. I saw my friend Kathy, the sixty-something year old nurse/triathlete who first got me interested in doing triathlons, but barely had time to say high because I realized then I still had my shorts on over my tri suit and was still wearing my sneakers so I ran back to where I had laid my bike at the periphery of the transition area, and quickly took them off and grabbed my goggles and cap. I didn't even have time for a last gulp of Gatorade. At least I didn't have to pace about with pre-race jitters.

My number -- 164 -- goes to show how many people were there -- 169. I don't think they had ever had more than 130 before and the race director gave a lecture on the need to be careful on the bikes and they had to argue at the town hall that week for the town to allow them to continue the race. He had to pay for state troopers and promise that anyone seen making an illegal pass or riding two abreast would be taken off the course. Then it was ready, set go.

The swim went pretty well. I started waist deep and had a clear line in front of me. I went at an easy pace so I wouldn't be quite so breathless when I go out. I sighted by measuring myself against the bubbles in front of me and the swimmer I could see to my right when I rolled to breathe. Again there was a huge traffic jam around the buoy and then on the other side I had my first real hard time with the logjam (I know where that comes from now because the swimmers were so thick just like the Pacific Northwest log runs, you could walk on them). I had to cut way wide to the right so I could swim unobstructed. The swim back to the beach seemed to take longer than I thought it would. When I got to the shore I took my time walking out of the water and up to my bike. Fortunately, I had laid out my colorful One Love Jamaican towel by my bike so I could see where it was located -- there were so many bikes spread out over such a large area. Again, it seemed to take me forever to get my socks on, and then my sneakers. I saw one guy sitting on a bucket and thought that made great sense instead of having to sit on my butt to change footwear. I took a quick drink of Gatorade, and then again had trouble putting my helmet on (getting the strap to snap) -- not as bad as the first race. I grabbed my bike and headed for the bike start. It seemed like during it all I was being passed by many people who I had beaten in the swim. I had the 93 best transition time in the last race out of 114. They didn't have a swim exit mat this time so my swim and transition time were lumped together at 9:45. I stood in 100th place. (I was a total 10:12 the last time).

I got on the bike and it was here we go again. One after the other I was getting passed. I had decided to just ride easy to start, and that was a good move because I felt I was starting to ride well, despite getting passed over and over. I did slow at one point to drink from my water bottle, which I had been too afraid to do the first race. I managed to get it and take a big swallow. I nearly spit it out It was old hot Gatorade (I had been too rushed to empty what was in there and refill before the race). Still I took another swig, and slowly managed to get the bottle back into the holder without falling off the bike.

The first part of the course is uphill and there is one killer section -- you have just gone uphill and then there is a steep decline that leads almost immediately to another more steady uphill, but I got the gearing screwed up so when I am on the last uphill the bike won't shift and I am going so slow my bike is almost at a standstill. I had to stand up and really pump hard to get the wheels to turn. It was slow and agonizing -- my thighs were screaming -- and I'm thinking here I am still on the first loop and already I'm dying. Finally I made it over the hill with just a couple pre-vomit belches, and then was riding well again, but then my seat slipped down and was loose. I probably should have gotten off and fixed it, but I was worried about getting off because then I imagined myself standing there being very pathetic. Still despite my knees being a little more bent than I would have liked due to the seat drop, I felt like I was riding okay -- probably because I was going downhill.

Going downhill is great and I tried to pedal as much as I could, but didn't mind coasting either. As I neared the halfway point I was passed by Jim, from my triathlon class and I wished him well and told him we were about halfway. My halfway goal was to not be lapped by the leaders. About 100 yards ahead was the race turn in where a crowd stood anxiously awaiting the speed demons. I tried to shout to my friend as I saw Jim turning in toward the finish -- making the same mistake I made in my first race. Then just as I thought I was going to make it around one time unlapped, the leader whipped by me. I was ten yards shy of the turn-in. He took the victory turn-in, I kept going, like they say in the great Jerry Lee Lewis country song try it "One More Time with Feeling". Another minute later Jim was passing me again. Sorry I said, I tried to shout but you were too far ahead.

The second time around wasn't as bad as the first, although I still had a hell of a time on that hill. Ahead there were two schoolkids sitting on the curb, watching. "How'ya doing?" they asked me.

"Where's the lemonade stand?" I shouted, perhaps a little more angrily than I actually meant.

They looked chastened.

"Children, get in the house," their mother called, weary maybe they would really be assailed by a deranged, dehydrated biker.

Every now and then another biker would pass me. I did see a girl on a thick tire bike with regular pedals like mine go by, but for the most part everyone seemed to have a road or tri bike. Maybe there were one or two others or maybe it was just my vision being distorted by my fatigue. As before I passed no one on the bike. I did take heart that the old guy with the grey beard who passed me the last race a little past the halfway mark when I was worried I was off the course, passed me about three quarters of the way this time.

Derek, another guy from my class was at the race volunteering, and he waved me in to the bike finish and encouraged me on. I saw Bill, the triathlon coach, and he encouraged me as well. There was a bigger crowd this time at the bike finish and no "Way to go, Biker Man" comments.

I finished the bike in 52:00, which beat my old bike time by 3:53, although I still had the slowest bike time of all 169 entrants. I had to steer through the transition area, avoid people lounging after their run finishes, and find my yellow green and red One Love towel. I dropped my bike, grabbed a water bottle and started off.

This time at least I knew where the run course went. I started running, and while my legs felt rubbery, the legs weren't the main problem, I was just plain tired. I was soon walk running and there was a group of us on the course doing the same thing. I recognized the old guy with the grey beard up ahead and the other guy who I had run with before at the end of the last race where we had to figure out which way the course went together. Here we were again bringing up the rear. I chatted with him a little and he said he had done the race each week so far, and was gradually getting better. It's a good workout, he said. Tell me about it.

I ran hundred paces, walked fifty, ran a hundred. After ahile I'd pass him on the run, he'd pass me on the walk. In retrospect I wish I had tried to run the whole way, but I was just exhausted and my back was tight. I read about runners and triathletes talking about the pain and pushing through it. I am sort of pain averse and haven't really attacked it yet.

As we approached the end, I picked up the pace some, but still finished behind the other guy who also picked up the pace when I had done my last walk part.

There were again many more people at the finish line this time, all applauding, which was nice. It really means alot to me to hear it. "thank you, thank you very much" I say in a weak Elvis impersonation. A kid was high-fiving everyone. After I crossed and took off my timing chip, I sort of staggered about looking for my bike. I saw Bill and he congratulated me on finishing and we talked a bit, along with Jim, who'd finished about fifteen minutes earlier. Bill said he would get me set up right on the bike. Get me better positioned for power and more aerodynamic. Hopefully that will help.

Afterwards, I took off my sneakers and bike shirt and went back down to the water and went in and just floated on my back for about ten minutes. It was great, very peaceful and cooling, looking up at the sky. It really was a beautiful July evening. The only thing that would have made it better would have been a cold beer on my stomach.

I finished in 164th place -- the same as the number on my arm. I beat out the old guy with the beard along with my friend Kathy who while she may have come in last, has probably finished more Hawaiian Iron Man races that anyone else there (2). She told me she often comes in last, but she must have some serious stamina. She was only about five minutes behind me and I have at least fifteen years on her, maybe twenty. I later learned that three people were DNFs, so in reality I came in 164 out of 169.

My run time was 34:07, which beat my previous mark by 1:03. Still I think I could have done better. There is time to be made up there.

My overall time was 1:35:52, which beat my old time by 5:23, which was a 5.4% improvement, which isn't bad I guess.

On one hand, I still feel sort of pathetic, but on the other, what the hell, I am a triathlete. I was out there, I raced, I finished. I did not die.

I was thinking about a post race beer, but when I got home I was too thirsty for beer. I finished my Gatorade protein mix drink, drank some pomegranate juice, had several glasses of water and never did get around to the beer. I did have a steak though and that was quite good. I may have the beer Friday night instead.