Shoreman 70.3 Race Report

The good:

Right from the start of this race, there were dark, ominous clouds overhead.   Because of my phobia, I know cloud types and formation. The ones overhead were not sweet little stratus clouds.  They looked as much like cumulonimbus as anything I’ve ever seen.  In my world, cumulonimbus clouds mean I stay inside, away from windows, poised to put a blanket over my head.   Those of you who know me well will understand the magnitude of what I’m about to say next:  I raced anyway.  I got in the water and did my two laps (1.2 miles).  I got on the bike and continued riding through the intense downpours that kept popping up.  I continued with the run even though I knew there was no place to take cover along the run course.  I did the whole race under a very real threat of thunderstorms.  This is probably the most significant advance I’ve ever made against this phobia. 

The ok:

My swim skills have definitely improved.  In fact, they have improved to the point in which I am now getting kicked and jostled in the water just like the other triathletes.  This is new for me, since until now I was always the lone swim cap in the back.   The problem is that I now need to learn how to pass people.  I kept getting caught up behind people whom I wanted to pass, but couldn’t get through.  I also need to work a little more on sighting so my 1.2 miles is not 1.3 because I find myself off course (happened at least twice today).   Swim time: 48 minutes.

The bike would have been good, but the ugly:

So I’m riding along, feeling good even though it is pouring (taking it easy in the wet), and I hit mile 12 and hear POP!  Yes, my tire.  My back tire.  My back friggin tire.  I do not have good tire changing skills, but I do know how to do it, and I did have the proper tools. Part of the reason my skills are poor is that when I’ve flatted on the road in the past, I tend to accept the offers of help from guys who are riding past.  I was surprised by how many of those offers I got today, but I didn’t want to interrupt someone else’s race, so I waived them off and went to work.  The repair took me at least 17 minutes (my bike computer clocked my bike time at 3:16, and the race results page has my bike time at 3:33 and some change).   I may not win any awards for my flat-changing skills, but if anyone was giving out prizes for quantity and variety of use of the “f” word, I certainly would be able to claim one.   When I got back on the bike, the first thing I learned was that the wind had picked up dramatically.  A headwind, which continued to strengthen through the remainder of the ride.

The run was awful.   The sun came out, and it was a combination of humid and windy.  I started to panic in the first two miles because I was already taking walk breaks.  This made me wonder how the hell I am ever going to get through a full iron-distance tri in just six weeks.  I had hoped for 2:15-2:20 for the run.  I finished in 2:39, which was very discouraging.  I was relieved afterward, however, when the other athletes were talking about how difficult the run was. 

My overall time was 7:09:10.  I really expected to come in under seven hours, and had hoped for a time closer to 6:30.  I do feel like I got the sub-7, because of the time lost dealing with the flat, but I was still not close to my goal. 

Things I learned today:

When I have to arrive at my tri as sunrise is occurring, and it’s damp and has been raining frequently and the tri is near the shore, bring mosquito repellant.  Lots of mosquito repellant. 

I don’t need to start in the very back any more in the swim.

I was an insanely stupid idiot moron for waiting so long to install my aero bars.   I can’t quantify how much extra speed I got from them, but boy did they make the ride more comfortable. 

CO2 inflators are awesome.

When my plan is to pop a Tylenol during the bike ride, it would help to actually bring the Tylenol with me on the bike ride. 

Take the extra 10 damn seconds in bike-to-run transition to reapply my sunscreen.

Put the little sample of body glide that I obtained for just this purpose in my pocket for the run.  My post-run shower should not sound like an out-of-tune mezzo soprano audition.