Only minutes into the swim in my first triathlon of the season and I was already in trouble. A flying elbow had just caught me squarely in my right temple causing my eyes to flash with white light while dislodging my goggles from my face. Then from the left, a fore arm to the top of my head shoved my face splashing right back down into the freezing water. I could feel the hand of the swimmer behind me trying unsuccessfully to grab a hold of my ankle for a pull, but my wetsuit was too slick and his grip kept slipping. In every direction, twisting, thrashing bodies were blocking every attempt I made to establish any sort of rhythm. Trying to create space to move, I began swinging my elbows wide and kicking wildly. It didn’t take long before I had gone completely anaerobic and was struggling to breath. Something was wrong, my heart was pounding, I couldn’t get any air, and was being tossed around in the water like an empty water bottle. Fear set in as I began to panic, and in an act of desperation I stopped swimming. Confused and gasping for air i just bobbed there dead in the water.
It had been nine months since my last race, and I thought I was well prepared for this one. In the offseason I had dedicated my life to training. I changed the way I ate and even gave up television in order to make more time for my sport. Through long endurance sessions I had pushed my body to my very limits of pain and exhaustion, and hundreds of hours and thousands of miles later, there I sat staring at the shore while I prepared myself mentally for the anguish that was going to follow once I paddled back and gave up.
I dont know how long I floated out there, but by the time I had regained my breath and my senses, only a few swimmers remained near me. I looked out across the lake and could see that most of the field had already passed the first turn buoy. Although I had lost a couple of minutes just treading water, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make it through the swim, I wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. I would make the first loop of the swim course, and if i was still feeling panicked I decided that I would drop out then. Hesitantly I rolled back over and started back down the course in long steady swim strokes.
After a couple of minutes I started getting used to the cold of the water against my face. Before long I started passing the swimmers at the back of the pack. I tried to stay to the inside edge of the course in order to avoid getting tangled up with any other competitors, and it worked as I seemed to have ample room to move. By the time I made it around the first loop of the swim course I was feeling strong again and without hesitation turned for the second lap. Shortly into the second lap, I began to realize that I had made considerable ground on the field, and before long I was moving steadily along side that original pack of flying elbows that had initially tossed me to the side. By the time I turned the final buoy and started the final stretch of the swim, I had broken free of the field and was holding pace with the lead pack that appeared to be only a few minutes ahead of me.
Exiting the water, I shuffled to the transition area desperate to make up the time I had lost. But cold and numb fingers made every task difficult and awkward. My wet suit was getting caught around my ankles and I couldn’t seem to get free. After a lot of tugging and pulling, I managed to get into my cycling gear and head out onto the bike course.
Due to the light rain that was falling, I took a somewhat cautious approach to the bike ride. I kept my pace pretty steady and easy at 21-22 mph. I took it easy on the declines to avoid spilling on the wet pavement. I took in about a half bottle of Gatorade and a single gel pack for nutrition, and that seemed to suffice.
My second transition seemed equally awkward. I struggled with my balance as i tried to switch shoes and had some trouble getting my Garmin wrist band on. Even though I struggled, it seemed to go smoother than T1.
Upon exiting T1, I was still having trouble getting my Garmin connected to the wrist strap. My pace felt good and strong until I dropped the Garmin on the ground and had to scramble to find the headset without losing too much time. Eventually I settled into nice easy pace. Again, with the run I took a somewhat conservative approach, wanting to save plenty of steam for the finish. Steadily I continued to make up spots as I managed to eek up in the standings. Making my way to the finish chute, I saw that my finish time was 2:22:45. This was an 8 minute PR for the olympic distance.
Considering the trouble I had during this race, I was thrilled with my finish time. My final line looked like this…
- Swim – 25:49
- T1 – 2:03
- Bike – 1:09:27 (21.4 mph)
- T2 – 1:13
- Run – 44:15 (7:14/mile)
- Total time – 2:22:45 (overall 21st place, 3rd in age group)
A few things really stand out to me in the final results. First is that although I finished with a big PR, my actual splits per event were fairly comparable to times that I have done in the past. In fact, the bike split was 6 minutes slower than my PR. The only event that I did PR in this race was the swim which for all intents, was the worst part of my race. What really set this race apart from the past though, was the consistency in my performance across the board. Although this time was a massive Personal Record, I feel that with some tweaks, I have much quicker times in store for this season.
I did learn a few lessons in this race. First, I am a finesse swimmer, and I am going to leave the front center of the swim pack to the kids that are looking to brawl. In my next race, I am going to get in the water early, warmup, then line up towards the outside of the pack and swim around them. Second, getting my wetsuit off is killing my time, I am going to spray my ankles with Pam or something like that so that the legs don’t get stuck on me again. Third, I am not going to get quicker at transitions until I start to practice them. Wishful thinking is not enough to bring my time down. And last, When the chips seem down, and hope seems lost, just hang in there. I almost gave up on this race, but after settling myself down I eventually put up the race of my life. My decision to keep going reminds me of the words of a certain endurance great.
“If you can’t run, then walk. And if you can’t walk, then crawl. Do what you have to do. Just keep moving forward and never, ever give up.” – Dean Karnazes
As Many of you know, I was very fortunate to have been chosen by USA Triathlon as the official event blogger for the 2011 national championships. Blogging for USA Triathlon was an incredible experience that I am going to treasure for the rest of my life.
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