A couple of weeks ago, I did my first triathlon: the “Tri-It in Spanish” super sprint triathlon.
Pre-Race
The night before the race, Jenn got home from girls camp at about midnight and I was up waiting for her walking around in my ‘tri’ shorts hoping Louis Garnier was a triathlete of sorts because his name was written on the spandex along my thigh. My alarm rang at 4:45 Saturday morning and my first thought was “wow, this is early in the morning.” My second thought was, “wait, this is the time my alarm has gone off for the last nine months.” And then I remembered I would be teaching seminary for another year and cried inside for the next 3 hours.
Race start time was 8 am. We arrived at about 6:45 so I could get my timing chip, get my bike inspected and set up my transition area. I also had to get my bicep marked with my number and my calf marked with my age, both of which I flexed. As I took my bike through the transition area to find an open space, I couldn’t help but notice the different kinds of equipment the triathletes had. It was slightly intimidating. After I set out my transition area (thank you youtube), I noticed everyone fiddling with thing-a-majigs, making adjustments to what’s-it-called, and generally breathing deep. As for me, I squeezed my tires with my fingers, dusted off the seat a couple of times and wondered where I was supposed to apply the free sample of body glide I held in my right hand.
Swim – 300 meters
Because the swim course was small (in a private ski lake) we went off the dock individually – about every 3 seconds. Obviously I knew going in that the swim would be the best leg of the race for me. I passed a bunch of people and swam over a group of girls swimming four-wide. I think they were upset after that. I was nice though and didn’t kick them in the face as I went by. Unfortunately, my individual times were not recorded – only start and end time. There were a few of us that the split times didn’t show up right (only the run – 8:05 minute miles). Oh well. Because of the very little rain, the water had sunk to lower levels than Jon and Kate Plus Eight and I struggled a little as I made my way onto the boat ramp due to the shifting mud. At the transition, the mud stuck like clay to the bottom of my feet and after picking off most of it, I was off on the bike.
Bike - 12 miles
The good news was that I had, as my steel stallion, the original “silver bullet” Centurion 1985(?) edition. I was hoping that the bike would channel triathlon chi through my body like Dr. Pepper on Fast Sunday. Unfortunately, even the bike’s nostalgic powers couldn’t help a cycling novice like myself.
Overall the first transition went smoothly. I got the clips in without too much difficulty. I didn’t know how the bike would go so I took it pretty easy – I think a little too easy. I think it was about 12 miles and I definitely had enough in me at the end to go harder on the bike. I also finally applied the sample of body glide (not during - that would have been dangerous and probably would have broken local decency laws). Just thought you should know. Bottom line was I passed more people than passed me. Of course, most of them were riding mountain bikes or had flats on the side of the road.
Run – 2 miles
As I pulled into the second transition, I made an executive decision to go sockless on the run. My feet were still caked with clay from transitioning from swim to bike and I didn’t feel like shaking them out. Besides, the run was only two miles. I was able to pass most of the folks that passed me on the bike. It was mega-hot outside and at about the 1-mile mark I reached out for what I thought was cold water and instead got warm sports drink. It made my stomach grumble and gurgle. Naturally I thought of Revelation 3:16. I crossed the finish line pretty strong but about 10 seconds later I threw up five times in succession. It was probably due to overexertion. It’s weird that I don’t feel it though until after I stop exercising.
The night before the race, Jenn got home from girls camp at about midnight and I was up waiting for her walking around in my ‘tri’ shorts hoping Louis Garnier was a triathlete of sorts because his name was written on the spandex along my thigh. My alarm rang at 4:45 Saturday morning and my first thought was “wow, this is early in the morning.” My second thought was, “wait, this is the time my alarm has gone off for the last nine months.” And then I remembered I would be teaching seminary for another year and cried inside for the next 3 hours.
Race start time was 8 am. We arrived at about 6:45 so I could get my timing chip, get my bike inspected and set up my transition area. I also had to get my bicep marked with my number and my calf marked with my age, both of which I flexed. As I took my bike through the transition area to find an open space, I couldn’t help but notice the different kinds of equipment the triathletes had. It was slightly intimidating. After I set out my transition area (thank you youtube), I noticed everyone fiddling with thing-a-majigs, making adjustments to what’s-it-called, and generally breathing deep. As for me, I squeezed my tires with my fingers, dusted off the seat a couple of times and wondered where I was supposed to apply the free sample of body glide I held in my right hand.
Swim – 300 meters
Because the swim course was small (in a private ski lake) we went off the dock individually – about every 3 seconds. Obviously I knew going in that the swim would be the best leg of the race for me. I passed a bunch of people and swam over a group of girls swimming four-wide. I think they were upset after that. I was nice though and didn’t kick them in the face as I went by. Unfortunately, my individual times were not recorded – only start and end time. There were a few of us that the split times didn’t show up right (only the run – 8:05 minute miles). Oh well. Because of the very little rain, the water had sunk to lower levels than Jon and Kate Plus Eight and I struggled a little as I made my way onto the boat ramp due to the shifting mud. At the transition, the mud stuck like clay to the bottom of my feet and after picking off most of it, I was off on the bike.
Bike - 12 miles
The good news was that I had, as my steel stallion, the original “silver bullet” Centurion 1985(?) edition. I was hoping that the bike would channel triathlon chi through my body like Dr. Pepper on Fast Sunday. Unfortunately, even the bike’s nostalgic powers couldn’t help a cycling novice like myself.
Overall the first transition went smoothly. I got the clips in without too much difficulty. I didn’t know how the bike would go so I took it pretty easy – I think a little too easy. I think it was about 12 miles and I definitely had enough in me at the end to go harder on the bike. I also finally applied the sample of body glide (not during - that would have been dangerous and probably would have broken local decency laws). Just thought you should know. Bottom line was I passed more people than passed me. Of course, most of them were riding mountain bikes or had flats on the side of the road.
Run – 2 miles
As I pulled into the second transition, I made an executive decision to go sockless on the run. My feet were still caked with clay from transitioning from swim to bike and I didn’t feel like shaking them out. Besides, the run was only two miles. I was able to pass most of the folks that passed me on the bike. It was mega-hot outside and at about the 1-mile mark I reached out for what I thought was cold water and instead got warm sports drink. It made my stomach grumble and gurgle. Naturally I thought of Revelation 3:16. I crossed the finish line pretty strong but about 10 seconds later I threw up five times in succession. It was probably due to overexertion. It’s weird that I don’t feel it though until after I stop exercising.
Anyway, It was a fun. I came in 79th overall and 13 out of 27 in my age group. Can’t wait to do one in September.
5 comments:
Makes me wish I was young again. Anyway, some day when you are ready I will give you the magic words to get the carma from Dave Scott that can come through the bike.
First of all, Dad, it's karma - not carma. (That's my cousin). But Chad - I am totally impressed. You look awesome. Congratulations. I think when it is you and Jenn's turn for Tustifiesta - you should put together some sort of competition in regards to a triathlon. That is if Clint doesn't beat you to it. I will bring cookies. Anyway, your blog encouraged me to open my scriptures and peruse them.
Dude, congrats... However, did the triathlon double as a cub scout bike rodeo by chance? All those cones looked awfully familiar.
Dude I recognize that swim stroke from your water polo days. Anyway, congrats dude. You can really impress me though when you can make your stomach move in waves like me.
Thanks everyone.
I'll do some training and maybe Dave Scott will reward me. I've already been riding a lot more and feeling more comfortable. I'll plan a Triathlon but dad won't be allowed since he was pretty much semi-pro and would wipe the floor with us.
And yes, there were some grumblings going around about the cones. The bike mount and dismount were awfully close, especially considering the time trial start. And Trevor, is that a reference to the "truffle shuffle"?
Post a Comment