Mrs. T
Triathlon August 26, 2001
Buck
Hales
What could possibly motivate me to enter the world of
triathlon? After all, I am not a
swimmer, and hardly a bicyclist. The
lure of this multisport endeavor with the promise of cross training is a great
inducement, but truly, the reason for my participation in my first triathlon
was accepting the dare. Last year I
promised to accompany my running brother, the Legendary Saint Stephen on his
quest to run a 50-mile ultra during his 50th year. The dare—this year he had to accompany me to
my first triathlon. We completed part
one of the bargain and completed 3 marathons and two ultramarathons, including
the 50-mile race last year. And now we completed part two of the deal. Amazingly, our overall results at Mrs. T
Triathlon were strikingly similar, as was our approach. Concentrate almost entirely on swimming to
make sure we don’t drown and hope to make it through the bike and run.
The race day story:
Up at 3:30, contacts in, light breakfast, and Steve and his son Tim
picked me up at 4:15. He was concerned
about his new bike (he just bought it days before)--it had a flat tire. I had a patch kit and spare
tube with me. So when we got to the parking structure we repaired his tube,
pumped up our tires and proceeded to transition. We found our spots by 5:15, both near the swim-in/run-out side of
transition area, but way on the other side of the area from bike-in/out. I set up my area, walked from swim-in to the
bike, the walked to bike-out and back in to make sure I could find my spot. The
Clydesdale horse balloon I tied to my spot helped. What a collection of balloons,
100s of them. It made the transition area seem quite festive. We exited
transition freshly body marked, carrying everything we need for swim, and then
waited. And waited. We watched Tim's
wave go off, the very first one. Then I rendezvoused with Karen and Ryder and
probably walked 2 or more miles. Then
it was time.
I slipped on the wet suit and waddled to the starting
pen. I stayed to the back of the wave
16 corral. All of us in lime-green caps. It was fun being one of the smaller guys
in the group. We commented that since
all three Clydesdale waves would be in the lake at the same time, the water
level would rise by 2 feet. Much
conversation and nervous chatter before we leapt into the water. Woosh, I
remembered to hold onto my goggles. So far so good. I was at the back of the group,
128 of us in the 50 x 50 area all treading water and howling. Some one joked
that we were all fighting to be in the back of the pack, those of us, that is,
who weren't experienced or strong swimmers.
Then the gun went off.
It felt like some one turned on a blender. The water exploded as the lead swimmers took
off. I waited a few seconds to swim to avoid being kicked in the face and the
guy behind me went right over the top of me.
It took me a few minutes to swim out and not be body to body, head to
foot with other swimmers. Soon though
it thinned out and I could see the pack swim away from me. I settled in,
focused down on my breathing and stroke and felt comfortable. With in a few minutes the next wave caught
me--the bronze capped 20-30 year old women.
They were strong swimmers but small and not physically aggressive as
they shot past me. They caught me just
about at the turn around. I swam with
bronze caps and the rest of the back of the pack green hats for about another
1/4 mile. I was focusing on the stroke,
trying to keep to the middle of the lane and to stay away from the boats which
I kept tending towards. Then the purple
caps caught us. 20-30 year old men. Big, strong aggressive. They swam right
over me. I got kicked in the head but didn't lose my goggles. I would feel someone touch me feet so I swam
defensively and blocked their kicking feet from hitting my face as they swam
over me. For a first time competitor, I think this experience is the most
challenging part of the swim. I tried to just swim my swim, go around the
occasional slower swimmer and not get kicked in the face when I was past by the
subsequent waves. I was also very
conservative and swam in my comfort zone.
Finally I got to the end of the swim and hoisted my self to the bottom
step. Two kind volunteers hefted me to my feet. I cleared the stairs took two
steps on the slippery carpet and fell flat on my face. I was OK, and this fall
sort of shocked me to my senses. I
clicked my watched and checked my time, 45, not too bad! I peeled off cap and goggles and began to
unzip the suit. I saw Karen and Ryder cheering me on. I ran down the path to
the transition area and passed my coach who cheered me on! I found my bike
easily, sat to pull off the suit and had a tough time getting it off over my
ankles. I draped it over the rail, dried off my feet, put on shoes and socks,
singlet, sun glasses, helmet, took a slug of water, grabbed the bike and headed
out.
Riding a hybrid really distinguishes one in a tri. There are
some unbelievable bikes, truly amazing marvels of carbon fiber and titanium
construction. And then me on my trusty commuter bike. This was the first time I
had ever been in a bike event or organized ride of any sort and though I rode
many 15 mile rides, I had never been over 16 miles, and this was my first
chance to ride without stopping. This, of course doomed my bike segment. The first leg heads north, generally up hill
and into the wind. I averaged 16-18 mph and felt pretty good. I drained a
bottle and traded for a new one at the turn around. The backside was fast and I
actually peaked out at 25.5 mph. Of
course the road bikes went flying past me.
I made the mistake of going with them. I felt pretty good, was able to
keep up 22 mph for several miles and generally moved with the masses. I started to be distracted by my over-full
bladder and really wished I could do something about it, but was not so
disposed as to pee my pants while riding.
I kept pressing, was glad to have water now instead of Gatorade, and had
a great 2nd leg. When I neared the turn
around I saw a women on a tri-bike hit the wall but she was immediately
attended to by course marshals. OUCH! She had more skin showing than not and
much of it remained on the road. The turn around was good, then the 3rd leg
started. Now it seemed to be hugely
uphill and into a strong wind. I really
started to struggle, but kept my cadence up, and maintained 14-16 mph. At one point I joined a small group of 4 or
5 other hybrid or mountain bike riders and our pack proceeded north being past
by all those speedy road bikes. I was really looking forward to the 4th
leg. After the turn around I noted that
I had now ridden farther than my longest training ride, and certainly had
cranked harder and longer than I had previously experienced. I had faith in my
spirit, if not my legs and pressed on.
Then the pain began. Excruciating pain in my butt. Not from
friction or the seat, but muscular pain in my gluts. It was incredible. A new threshold
of pain and I was still many miles out. I stood up for a moment here and there
and it relieved the cramping. I kept trying to press but my legs felt
disconnected from my hips. My calves
felt like they were going to explode. All I could do was just peddle. Some
times my speed dropped to 10 mph. I was being passed by everyone. I drank
water, I breathed, I tried to suck it up but the pain in my butt was all
consuming, very distracting, most distressing. At least it took my mind off how
bad I had to pee! The intensity
lessened with the exhilaration of knowing the ride was almost over. I actually summonsed up a few more miles of
20+ mph, around the S curve, but really struggled up the big hill (by Chicago
standards) on the overpass over the river. Finally, the end. I eased around the
hairpin, sprinted for 50 yards, and dismounted. ARGGGGG, my legs, there they
were. I could feel them again. I was so
grateful to be on my feet again and out of the toe-baskets. Not a stellar ride, 1:30. Certainly a learning
experience.
I had a great lesson in transition. I couldn't re-rack my
bike. The person across from me had their bike so close to where my spot was
that the cross piece holding up the rack blocked me from being able to rack. It
took me fully 2 minutes to figure out how to get my bike in. I peeled my helmet
off, changed sunglasses, clipped on my bib number and took off.
I shuffled down the hill taking baby steps. I was grimacing
with each step. I saw coach again and
he and his crew cheered me on. They all laughed at my facial contortions. Soon
I found the port-a-john and it seemed to take me 3 minutes to drain. Gads, what
a relief. I resumed the run in what was
now a very hot and sunny day. Running
was like a dream. I couldn't muster any turnover but felt comfortable enough
just plodding along. I was relaxed and enjoying this part of the Tri,
struggling though I was to keep feet moving.
It was fun to run with such a mixed group, and seeing all those ripped
bodies running in swim suits was a pleasant diversion. I passed Toronto Karen after mile 2 and she
claimed not to be doing to well. It was
very hot and sunny and I too felt the heat.
I was passed and passed many during the 10K. A marshal was calling out peoples numbers and cheering them on
and saw me and called out "way to go big guy with beard and pony
tail" I hadn't thought much of it,
but actually, by comparison, I certainly did not fit the tri-body mold. HA! but
I was doing it, wasn't I! Certainly one of the great things about the Tri is
being able to compete amongst athletes at all levels. In road races all the
fast runners disappear, but in the Tri we compete side by side.
Near the finish of the 10 K I saw Karen and Ryder again, and
passed a running buddy who was working a water stop. She called out to me
"Buck, when did you become a tri-athlete?" And I yelled back to her "today!" I mustered a mighty kick and did the Bucky
Burst to the finish line, passing dozens of other runners. 3:26. Amazing. I had
hoped to break 4 hours. I felt so happy to finish. I yelled and yipped and
waved my arms around before staggering to the water. I felt elated and totally
spent. I met up with Steve who was about 15 minutes behind me the whole
way. We trained together, did our first
Tri together and finished with nearly the same overall time. Each of our legs
were within minutes of each other. I was amazed that his bike time and mine
were so close. He just bought his new hybrid days before and had barely ridden
it. Gads, I have much to learn and many miles to ride to improve my bike
leg. I suppose a nice road bike
wouldn't hurt either.
In the end, I came to the realization-- I have much to learn
about triathlon, about swimming, biking and running. I may not be a good swimmer or biker or a fast runner, but I am a
fierce competitor.
For the record, Steve and my results were nearly identical.
Overall time 3:26:04 (Steve: 3:32:18)
Swim: 48:08 (Steve: 47:26)--includes water and run from water to
T1
T1: 4:32 (Steve: 5:31) –
we both had a devil of a time getting that wet suit off of our ankles
Bike: 1:30:04, average speed 16.5 (Steve: 1:32:07. average speed 16.1)
T2: 3:00 (Steve: 3:30)
Run: 1:00:19, pace 9:43
(Steve: 1:02:43, pace 10:16)
18 out of 33 M 40-49 Clydesdales (Steve 45 out of 50 M 50-54)
222 out of 348 Clydes
(Steve: 2305 out of 2599)