Salty War

The day dawned cool (low teens) and cloudy, after a long day of rain yesterday. Ideal weather for running, but from swimming in a north-sourced river? Hmmm....

I was up at 5 (because I like getting up at 5, I guess). Two bowls of cereal. Relaxed. Played some computer games. Checked the weather network. Put my tri-shorts, running shirt (with bib already pinned), running socks and running shoes on. Bike rack on the car. Bike on the bike rack. And I was off!

After some initial confusion and a potty break, I found myself parked on a side street adjacent to the Ottawa River parkway, parking amidst a sea of cars with bike racks. This must be the right place, he said sagely. I grabbed my gear, and wheeled over to the beach. Found the transition area. Grabbed a relatively emptry rack "at the back" - i.e. far from where most people were coming in, but close to the Swim In. Third rack in, against the hedges. Perfect.

I laid my towel out, and wandered. Saw the buoys in the water, and the Bike Out/In and Run/Out signs. Saw the finish line. The run layout was a bit confusing, and the start wasn't clearly demarked. Big beach. No problem. Saw the body marking. Ran back to my bike, grabbed my swim cap, and tried to read the bewildering instructions. I eventually paired up with someone, who wrote my bib number, age and event (no blood type, strangely) all over me in permenant marker. I then did the same for him. I went back to my bike, chilled some more.

Eventually, I took to wandering again, and watching some of the early duathletes, who were competing in the Canadian Duathlon Championships. I ran into a few people (group leaders) from my half marathon clinic. Harvey is still working on building up his swimming for next month, and Jen was doing the sprint triathlon. Jen's sister showed up with a white golden retriever, which Jen says are good luck.

I listened in on the olympic triathlon starter's instructions, then took a seat on the beach to watch them. Awesome stuff. They were swimming a 500m "diamond" (though it was closer to a triangle, I think the second buoy wasn't too far out of line with the first and the third), with the point on shore. Three loops of that. By the time the lead swimmer was at buoy 3, the trailing swimmers were almost to buoy 1. Wow.

Distances are super deceiving on the water, but time is not. Regardless of how visible and close the buoys looked, they were a LONG way out there. Yikes. Cloudy sky, breezy, and cool. No wetsuit. Yup, I was VERY happy to only be swimming 200m.

The sprint triathlon went off next. I watched them swim out, then hit the washroom. I sat for a couple of minutes, then moved down towards the start area. I put my cap on, and my goggles over my cap. The starter instructions were given 10 minutes before start, then I went out for what I hoped would be a warm-up swim.

Make that a cool-down swim.

I ran a few steps, dove in, butterflied a stroke, then tried to pull a few freestyle. I was up standing after 5 or so pulls. It was cold. C-c-c-cold. D-d. Forget a warm-up swim.

I got back up on the beach, and wandered a bit. Did a few jumps, to stay warm. People lined up along shore. I lined up to the outside, resolving to try to miss the early fray, and to merge in late. Extra distance woudln't be a big deal.

The countdown was agony. I was shivering. This was going to be very, very though. 5 seconds. "Good luck, everyone," I said. We were off.

I tried to settle into a bilateral breathing pattern. As is usual for me, without a swim warmup, my breathing was a bit ragged. Then very ragged. I forgot to sight at first, and when I did, I was drifting to the right, into the pack. Not what I wanted. I started gasping for breath. I started breathing only on my right, which pulled me even more to my right. At this point, my swim coach would have banished me to lane 1.

I was gasping for breath, oxygen starved, and a little panicked. We had to swim across a beach buoy line, and it scared me (I'd forgotten about it.) I crossed the race line, and found myself too far to the right. This was crazy. I swam a few pulls of heads-up freestyle, then looked behind me. Lots of orange and pink swim caps behind me.

At the first turn, me being at the very inside of the turn now (where I had not planned on being), there was a slowdown. I took the opportunity to do one or two easy breaststrokes, which helped me catch my breath a bit. We turned, and I tried to accelerate, freestyle, in traffic. That was interesting. I found some free water, but only because I drifted to the right again. My swim technique was still atrocious. I tried doing some bilateral breathing, but it just wasn't coming. The water in my face was cold, and I couldn't hold my breath. I think I swallowed a bit somewhere in here.

At about the halfway point in the swim, I started settling down. I didn't know it at the time, but in retrospect, I got at least semi-confortable with my breathing, my sighting, and my horrid breathe-every-second-pull technique. I was keeping pace with the people in front of me, even though I couldn't see them through the brown water. The second turn came up quickly, and I used the breaststroke trick to get around it. Off we went, headed for home.

I tried sighting based on the person to my right, but kept drifting into them. Besides, they were drifting into the beach buoys, which meant that they weren't going straight either. I hit shallow water with two other swimmers, women, and stood up. They jogged off through the water, and on to shore. I walked.

Afterwards, Jen's sister, who was watching from the beach, said that I seemed to be one of the first people out of the water. I don't remember exactly what she said, but I guessed that I was in the 10-15th range. I jogged into transition, and found my bike no problem. Shirt on. Helmet on. Sat down. Dried my feet. Socks. Oh my. What a pain. I had my long running socks. Wished I'd had my short ones. This was slow. Tying my shoes was slow, too. Missing anything? Nope. Good. Grab the bike, and start jogging.

Unofficially, from what I remember of the race results, I exited the Swim/T1 portion in 22nd, out of 71.

Running around the corner, I mounted my bike, and got going. We turned onto the parkway, and I braked, fearing running headlong into the cyclists already out on the course (i.e. almost everyone else). Fortunately, the pylons gave us a bit of a merge ramp. Cool. I almost immediately passed a try-a-tri'er, in front of me, and got blown by by a seasoned cyclist.

Ok, I've never ridden in a bike race before. I've never ridden in a pack before. These guys who were blowing by me were FAST. Some of them were FAST. Crazy. I passed another slow cyclist, then another, not having a clue where I was race-wise (hah, as if I've ever thought about THAT before) hoping to pick up some fast swimmers on the bike. I picked up three or four slower cyclists fairly quickly, and I hoped that they were all try-a-tri'ers. (I think they were. The event is shown on the left back calf.)

I then came up behind two slower cyclists, who to my mind were dominating the lane. One was off to the side, and the other was passing her, slowly, within about 3 feet of the centre line. What to do? I could go around both to the left, but there was a steady stream of cyclists coming the other way who would kill me (possibly literally) if I got in their way. I decided to go between them, since that's where the room was.

Of course, passer sped up. Great. "Passing on your right," I called, and tried to gun it. She cut in sharply, thinking that she was done passing the passee. Yikes. I gunned it, and went right to the curb. I got by her, though we possibly both swore. Oops. =(

About a kilometer before the first turnaround, I saw a teenager coming towards me whom I was pretty sure was in the Try-a-tri. Oh my. Oh well, no accounting for genetics. I soldiered on.

My breathing was quick and heavy, but not laboriously so. I was (exertion/exhaustion wise) pretty close to where I might have been on a tough stretch of a bike to work. A few fast cyclists blew past me, then we all slowed down to make the turn.

About halfway through the cycle, a line of four fast cyclists passed me, including the first try-a-tri'er that I'd seen. She was on a nice-looking bike with razor-thin tires, so I assumed (hoped?) that cycling was her thing. It sure wasn't mine. She didn't exactly drop me though, and the group stayed in sight for quite some time. In fact, it's not impossible that I caught her later. I just don't know.

The wind had been at our backs at first. Actually, we started downhill and with a slight tailwind. It feaked me out a bit, because I was in my highest gear almost right away. Do I need a new cassette that badly, I wondered. The return trip was a slight uphill into the wind, and I wandered through my 4 toughest gears, generally living in my second-toughest whenever I could.

I did manage two drinks from my gatorade bottle during the bike, which were firsts. Not too graceful, but not too unbalanced, either.

Anyways, we blew by the transition area, and I knew we were getting close. A long slow up-hill brought the second turn-around in sight. I almost went too fast through it, and had to brake twice, despite it being 3 lanes wide. Oh well. Back uphill to the transition area.

(Yes, I said uphill from transition to turnaround, and again uphill from turnaround to transition. In this case, it really was uphill both ways, as impossible as I know that to be.)

I pulled into the transition area and dismounted with another try-a-tri'er. Again, a woman. I'm running with lots of women, apparently. I jogged my bike through, and her her clacking along behind me. Bike shoes, I guessed. Ha ha! Low-tech pedals for the win!

Harvey and Jen's sister were at the transition area, and I heard a "Go Warren!" Yay!

My recollection of the race results was that I was 6th out of 71 in the bike stage. Objectively, this is surprising. I've likely ridden my bike less than 10 different days in the last 30 months. I was passed by one or two people, strictly on road bikes. I passed more than I was passed. Weird.

T2 was fast. I kickstanded my bike, then tried to hang it from the seat. I threw off my helmet (after a warning about not taking it off until my bike was parked - oops, forgot!) Then, I was off.

Running always feels weird after biking. I took it easy, especially at first. From the run-out, we ran downhill, then across the beach. I grabbed a water there, and walked for a few seconds. I then ran up the hill, and along the bike path. About a kilometer in, I walked again for 10 breaths. These were pretty quick breaths, though.

I didn't feel like I was crawling, but I didn't feel like I was flying. My breathing was still heavy and quick, and that wasn't going to change. I was trying to run within myself, not pushing, but staying relaxed and keeping a good cadence. The turnaround came fairly quickly. I'd been passed by one try-a-tri'er on the way out, during my 10-breath walk.

On the way back, knowing the run was so short (3/4 of a mile, basically), I concentrated on keeping my arms relaxed, and swinging quickly. Quick turnover was what I wanted. There would be no sprint. I passed a try-a-tri'er, and offered words of encouragement. I spied the buoys in the water, through the trees. I started to hear the crowds and music from the finish line. I passed another try-a-tri'er, who looked like the run was really punishing them, and again offered words of encouragement. Around a long curve, the end came in sight.

I didn't sprint, but I gave it what I had. Had my name called, too, which is cool.

From what I remember of the resutls, I was 7th out of 71 on the run.

I took a long walk after the finish. I had zero idea where the drinks were (under the trees, beside the finish line), or the food (under a bridge under the road, hidden from potential rain), so I headed to my bike, and grabbed my gatorade bottle.

I wandered, cheering on finishers, and looking for my friends. Eventually, I finished my bottle, and put it back at my bike, at which point I saw the water. While I was there, I saw Jen finish. She was near last on the swim, and near first on the run. She's kicked butt at Boston, so no surprise on the run, anyways. I lost her again, but found her when I clued in to look for the retriever.

When the results were posted, I was in shock. Apparently, white golden retrievers really ARE good luck. I was 4th of 71 overall, and second in the adult male division. Holy cow! (This is, honestly, by far, my best race result ever, at ANYTHING!!)

Sign me up for the sprint triathlon! Whee! And not because of the result, though that will give me a huge boost of confidence. The race was FUN. I learned a few lessons, to be sure, but I can't wait to do this again.