Quakerman "Half" 9/7/13
1.2mi swim, 58mi bike, 13.1mi run
1.2mi swim, 58mi bike, 13.1mi run
Imagine waking up one morning and deciding to go to the nearest state park to do your own triathlon. No one around, just you and other tri geeks, the road, and normal traffic. That's what it was like on Saturday. I guess it all worked out in the end because my intention for this event was to use it as a training race. No taper, just go out there and race hard. I also had the goal of beating all the boys. Hey, when you aim, aim high.
When I arrived in Lake Nockamixon, I could't resist the beautiful view of the sun rising above the morning fog. The air was crisp, I could see my breath, but I knew that eventually the sun would come out and keep all the athletes comfortably warm. Boy, did it turn out to be a beautiful day.
The nice thing about a race that doesn't attract say, close to 2,000 people, you can use the marina's bathroom without waiting in line. All of you that have pre-race poops understand why I was so excited about this.
No matter the size of a field, I always seem to get tangled with at least one person at the swim start. Whoever was in front of me, I didn't mean to slow you down, but you were just in my way. The swim was great, the lake was calm, and the course was simple and difficult to mess up. Two guys were ahead of me, one of them 17 seconds ahead, but all three of us were in transition at the same time after the swim exit. Seriously, guys...what was taking you so long? I was first out of transition, leading the bike for the entire race, only to be caught with 2 miles to go. No, wait…make that with 4 miles to go because the course was an extra 2 miles.
The bike leg was very taxing on my body and mental state. The winds seemed to change direction on different parts of the course, even though there were only a total of 4 turns per lap. It annoyed the sh*t out of me. It was also difficult to get a consistent rhythm due to the nature of the course…and most importantly, there were only a handful of spectators. Boooorrrrring.
I racked my bike, and as soon as I bent down to put on my sneaks, my right quad seized for about 5 seconds. My eyes got bug-eyed, but I was able to shake it out, never to be seen again. If you've ever gotten a charlie horse, that's what it felt like. So I see the lead guy leaving transition, and my plan was to secretly creep up on him during the latter half by keeping a comfortable distance between us for the first half. Well, he missed a little turn early in the run, allowing him to see me on his heels. He picked up the pace on the first gradual hill, and I fought all day trying to chase after him...
He was not giving in one bit. I felt better and better as the race went on, so my last hope was for him to start fading. Nothing! The whole entire run, I could see him, just pissing me off. Looking at my splits, I was probably really frustrated after about 10k, busting out my fastest split. It was great getting encouragement from other athletes out on course…it's what kept me going. Still, I couldn't catch him. Frustrating to say the least, but the side sticker with 3-4 miles to go was all worth it because I fought. I sounded ridiculous trying to control my breathing, but I kept at it and fought. He finished just about a minute ahead of me, so I thought, "Maybe if I was able to push myself just a tad bit harder on the bike." Shoulda, coulda, yea, yea. Ugh, I wanted it so bad.
As I reflected on my day, I was very happy with how things have been coming around. Dropping over 8 minutes on the run from Boulder (with better fitness and happy feet), I'm feeling great and confident going into my next 70.3 series race in Augusta, GA! This time, I'm chasing after the money, not the boys.
The bike leg was very taxing on my body and mental state. The winds seemed to change direction on different parts of the course, even though there were only a total of 4 turns per lap. It annoyed the sh*t out of me. It was also difficult to get a consistent rhythm due to the nature of the course…and most importantly, there were only a handful of spectators. Boooorrrrring.
I racked my bike, and as soon as I bent down to put on my sneaks, my right quad seized for about 5 seconds. My eyes got bug-eyed, but I was able to shake it out, never to be seen again. If you've ever gotten a charlie horse, that's what it felt like. So I see the lead guy leaving transition, and my plan was to secretly creep up on him during the latter half by keeping a comfortable distance between us for the first half. Well, he missed a little turn early in the run, allowing him to see me on his heels. He picked up the pace on the first gradual hill, and I fought all day trying to chase after him...
He was not giving in one bit. I felt better and better as the race went on, so my last hope was for him to start fading. Nothing! The whole entire run, I could see him, just pissing me off. Looking at my splits, I was probably really frustrated after about 10k, busting out my fastest split. It was great getting encouragement from other athletes out on course…it's what kept me going. Still, I couldn't catch him. Frustrating to say the least, but the side sticker with 3-4 miles to go was all worth it because I fought. I sounded ridiculous trying to control my breathing, but I kept at it and fought. He finished just about a minute ahead of me, so I thought, "Maybe if I was able to push myself just a tad bit harder on the bike." Shoulda, coulda, yea, yea. Ugh, I wanted it so bad.
As I reflected on my day, I was very happy with how things have been coming around. Dropping over 8 minutes on the run from Boulder (with better fitness and happy feet), I'm feeling great and confident going into my next 70.3 series race in Augusta, GA! This time, I'm chasing after the money, not the boys.
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