The Long and Winding Road: Trinity Triathlon Race Report

Trinity Triathlon Race Report
Tuesday, June 05, 2007

So, after putting in more than seven hours on the bike last Friday, I decided at midnight that night to do the Trinity Triathlon the next morning. Since I was exhausted on so many levels, I decided it would be a good opportunity for a) getting a swim start in, and b) doing a little active recovery. I didn't even have my running shoes with me or an extra pair of socks. I ended up using an old pair or runners that I had turned into barn shoes and threw my soaking socks from Friday into the dryer for a few minutes.

For some crazy reason, I was up at 5:30 a.m. on Saturday, and couldn't get back to sleep. So I got up, organized my gear, and grabbed a breakfast bar. At 6:30, we headed off to find Spencer Lake, which proved more difficult than we'd originally thought. But with a scheduled start of 8 a.m., it was a relaxing morning regardless. We had plenty of time to register, organize our transition areas, and get down to the beach for the point-to-point swim start.

The lake is spring fed, so I knew it would be cold. But the cold ended up being a bigger shock than I had expected. Since the race was so short, I didn't wear a wetsuit, and diving in, it somewhat took my breath away. I also quickly realized how easy it was to get off-course when you're on the outside. When, for the second time, the guy I was following led me astray, I swam more to the middle of the pack and followed Darin, fellow weekend cabin-goer from Madison and 2006 Ironman-Moo alumn.

I was surprised at how much trouble I had with the swim. I'm not sure if it was due to the cold or to the fact that I didn't want to be last out of the water in the last heat and was scrambling a bit. Perhaps both. In any case, though, I couldn't catch my breath. But it was so short that it was over before it even really got started, and then we were out of the water and sprinting up flagstone steps leading to the transition area. 1/8th mile in 3:28, which was almost exactly middle of the entire pack overall.

As it turned out, I wasn't the last person out of the water or out of transition, which felt good. I threw on my bike jersey, helmet, and shoes, and headed out. Not the fastest transition, but I kept telling myself that this was simply an active recovery day. When you get out there, though, it's so hard not to really race it.

And on the bike, that's what I did. For a good ten miles or so, I felt great -- pushed a high gear, kept a high cadence, and maintained 18+ mph. I picked up time and passed a handful of people at least. And then (Notice how there's always an, "and then"?) I just got tired. I'm sure the hills toward the end didn't help, or the torrential downpour that started right about mile 12. But at that point, I relaxed my need to compete and just rode. And man, did that feel good! The downpour, however, was a different story. I actually complained, out loud, to myself, that I had just about had it with being wet -- half the ride up the day before, and now again...arrrgh! It was still pouring when I pulled into T2. Fifteen miles at 54:03 -- an average of 14.5 mph.

I was debating even starting the run, given the trouble I'd had on my run the weekend before. Besides, I had biked a hell of a long ways the day before and had been actively recovering for nearly an hour, I reasoned. AND it was straight-out pouring rain, and what I really wanted to do was dry off and start the weekend fun. But, since I couldn't determine if I was making this decision out of true concern for my own well-being, or out of a desire to just get dry and comfy with a beer in my hand, I decided to bite the bullet and just run.

T2 was slow (although to figure out how slow I'd have to do more figuring than I'd care to do, as transition times weren't recorded), because I took time to remove my now soaking socks and try to cover my garmin and transition bag. By that time, though, everything in my transition area looked as though it has been dropped in the lake. Later, I would discover my phone in the bottom of my bag, completely soaked and unresponsive (and later yet, it would dry out and start working again).

Less than a mile into the run, though, I knew I had made the wrong call. Not because of the still-pouring rain or my squishing shoes, but because of my left knee and hip. These are the two post-marathon problems I've been left with -- my patella feels like someone is stabbing a knife into it on when it bends or when the attached foot strikes the ground, and my hip feels like the ball is too big for the socket. Very enjoyable experiences all-around. Since I want a shot at running a good portion of the Ironman marathon, I'm not taking either injury on.

So I slowed to a walk, until I would get shamed into running by the super-cheery volunteers trying to encourage me that "I could do this!" and "Just a little bit more!" and to "Just have faith!" I know they meant well, but it was annoying. I wanted to run. Running is my thing...and my stupid body wouldn't letting me. I'd hobble a bit, trying to keep my left leg as straight as possible, and then slow back down, until I'd get shamed into hobbling along again. That cycle continued for a full 35 minutes and 35 seconds. Slowest 5k I've ever, ever done. But, whatever. All in all, it was a ton of fun and a great race -- well-run by the nicest group of people you'd ever want to meet.

Tangent: Andy, another of the cabin group who was doing the race, had a hilarious experience on the run. There was no one else on the section of road except one woman who had made the turn-around and was heading toward him. She started yelling, from far-off: "They're going to tell you that you're almost there. They're going to tell you that you're almost done. Don't believe them!" At this point, Andy looked around to see who she was yelling at...but there was no one else. She kept on: "They LIE! They lied to me, and they're going to lie to you! You're not almost done. You're not even close. They lied!" And on and on. When Andy passed the race volunteer who must've "lied," he didn't get a peep out of him. Apparently this woman gave him a piece of her mind. Pretty funny stuff.

Ok, so that's the unexciting summary of the Trinity Triathlon -- with pictures from the event below (can't upload them, so sorry for the links). We capped off the day with breakfast at a local greasy spoon, a nap, some sitting on the dock in the sun, having a few beers while playing Five Straight, grilling out, making Strip and Go Nakeds (vodka, beer, and mike's hard lemonade mixed, chilled, and served up in a fancy-dancy coffee pot), and heading to the Harbor Bar with my good friend from St. Norbert, Patrick, later that night.

Honestly, couldn't have asked for a better weekend!

Pictures:

Chief of Stuff, in spectating mode: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712440&image_id=120

Darin on the bike: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712220&image_id=263

Me on the bike: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712220&image_id=341

Andy on the bike: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712220&image_id=347

Darin in T2: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712242&image_id=533

Darin Post-run: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712242&image_id=248

Darin Finishing: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712242&image_id=256

Erin Finishing: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712242&image_id=399

http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712242&image_id=403

Erin Post-Run: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=ekade&gallery_id=712242&image_id=398