Marquee Race Report

To get up before four in the morning sucks. To get up that early to wait around to swim in Tempe Town Lake was even worse. The cloudy green water did not entice me. Invariably, it left flecks of green particles in my nose. But this was a sprint triathlon and I was doing it for “fun.”

I had to leave the house two and half hours ahead of time because transition closed at 6:15. I wasn’t supposed to start until 7:30. This left me lots of time to arrange my stuff, visit the toilet twice, get body marked and sit around and be bored. I could have walked around to find people to talk to, but that required too much energy. Some people get nervous, flit around and talk non-stop. I avoid them.

 I hoped my toe would not hurt since I had dropped a glass casserole lid on it the night before. I am at the age where I wonder if I had broken something every time I injure myself. My toe did not appreciate this abuse.

Finally, I jumped into the murky water. I had my wetsuit on, so I was calm. If I had to swim without it, I would have been very nervous with no neoprene to keep me from drowning. Besides, it was only a sprint with a mere 750 meters in length. I would be done in twenty-four minutes or less.

The clouds were kind enough to block the sun. To swim east into the glare on a clear day was difficult. I could actually see where I was going. I swam to the turn buoy in a short amount of time and was glad that I doing a sprint. The olympic race was twice as long.

Mill Avenue Bridge

I turned again and went under the bridges. The steps soon appeared and I got out of the nasty algae-infused water. I was surprised that my time was faster than usual. Maybe I could keep this trend going.

I got my helmet and bike shoes on and ran out of transition into the melee of the bike course. Put a bunch of bike riders riding at varied speeds in one street lane and it gets chaotic. The rules dictated that cyclists were supposed to be certain lengths apart, not pass on the right and not block one another from passing on the left. These rules weren’t always followed. Someone passed me on the right for no apparent reason. I kept getting stuck behind slower riders because waves of people behind me wanted to pass.

I passed when I could. Somehow, my average speed was higher than usual. Maybe the wind was favorable and the heavens had aligned. The weather was cool and I could work harder. The course was only twelve miles and saving energy wasn’t critical. The ride could be as hard as I wanted it to be and zipping around the streets was fun when no one was in my way.

I finished the ride and started the run. I needed to urinate badly, but I didn’t want to stop.
Then, the urge was gone. Did I pee myself? I wasn’t sure. I had doused myself with water and was wet anyway. Triathletes will sometimes pee anywhere but in a toilet to save time, but that wasn’t my practice.

I hate race photos if myself.

 Since last year, I had struggled with a hamstring injury. The injury had mostly healed, so  for a long time I had worked on reclaiming some run speed. Pain had not made a fast run possible and to return to normal had been an effort. My last 10k race had been somewhat mediocre, so my expectations were low for this event. A run after a swim and a bike was even slower.

The first mile was about ten minutes, which was close to what I expected. The second mile was 9:33. Where the hell did that come from? It wasn’t fast, but way better than I expected. Could I hold this pace? Would my energy flag? The pace was really uncomfortable, but I didn’t slow down. I tried to concentrate on form and not breathing like I was having a heart attack. The leg power was magically there, when it had been gone for so long.

I crossed the finish line and felt like I had been punched in the gut, the normal response to running like a maniac. For once, I was happy after a race. Most of my races are average, some are awful and a rare few like this one are awesome. After a greater than average share of truly horrible races last year, it was nice to have a good one, even though I could have smelled better.

Tempe International Race Report

It has been so long since I had done an "easy" triathlon race that I had forgotten how it was to race without numerous things going wrong. No hypothermia, heat exhaustion, numb feet, forgetting where your bike is racked in transition, no horrible swim, no bike mechanical problems. Even on a flat course, a sprint race isn't necessarily "easy" if you are pushing yourself hard. You can't catch your breath because you are working at a high intensity level. However, some sprint races are harder than others. Last year I did a sprint race at Lake Pleasant. There were hills, more hills and yet more hills. It wasn't a race where you went at a steady speed, because you had to fight the rolling hills. I wasn't really in sprint mode(hard and fast) because I was training for Ironman Arizona, which is more long and moderate speed training.

The swim was mercefully wetsuit legal and short. It was a 400 meter course. I was prepared to swim without a wetsuit, but I wasn't prepared to like it. I have had many miserable panic-striken swim in Tempe Town Lake. Without a wetsuit, I use a lot of energy trying to stay calm and I get tired. I hate the feeling of being tired and out in the middle of the water with no place to rest. The lake had these tall cement walls that make you feel like you are in a dank tunnel. Usually the races have you swiming straight into the sun, which is right over the horizon, so you can't see a damn thing except hapless people trying to swim straight. This particular race was west of a bridge, so there wasn't that problem.

Since the swim was so short, I decided to go at a moderate steady pace. It worked well. The wetsuit made me feel secure and the swim went fairly quickly. I was working hard, but I could still get enough air. I was done in 11:50, which isn't great for the rest of the world, but good for me. I actually get past some bodies. I struggled up the stairs. The volunteers in the race don't help you, unlike every other race I do in this lake. I ran into transition and actually got my wetsuit off fairly quickly. Usually, I am so cold that it takes forever. I get on my bike and take off.

The weather was still delightfully cool. Last year, I did the olympic course and it was very hot by the time I got on the course. I passed what look liked younger people who were in previous waves. A sprint tends to attract newbies, so at least I am faster than some of them. I kept up a moderately hard pace, but I didn't try to go too hard. This race seemed to be going entirely too smooth. I kept wondering what was going to go wrong. I caught myself in time not to veer into an orange cone. I did that last year and crashed and injured my shoulder. The bike course went up a few short hills, so it seemed a little slower than the races I have done where you just circled around the lake for a million times. The average speed was about 16.4 m.ph., which was kind of slow. I have been training on the mountain bike more and I think it has slowed me down a little. A small price to pay for variety.

I managed a flying dismount without incident and ran into transition. I actually knew where my stuff was, though it took me a second. I got into my running gear and took off.

I wanted to run hard and I did. The challenge of running after a swim and a bike is not slowing down. You get really tired sometimes, but I still had energy. You legs feel weird and it takes a while to get them going. I managed a 9:15 minute mile the first mile and a 8:57 the second mile. The last part of the 5k goes up a hill and some stairs so that you can go back over the bridge. I tried to pick off people to keep going. My chest felt like it had a crushing weight on it. The weather was still thankfully cool. Finally I hit the finish line in 29:12.

It was nice to actually do a race that FLOWED. Some races are such a struggle that it's all you can do to finish them. Everything will go wrong and you have to cope with it and move on. Sometimes you get lucky and everything works. All you are doing is fighting yourself. And having fun.