Lake Geode Challenge

I oftentimes ask myself why I race.  I'm not fast.  To be completely honest, the only chance I'll probably have to get on the podium will be to simply stay healthier longer than anyone else in my age group so that by the time we are all 65, I will be one of the three of us who can still compete (and therefore at least place third).  And to be even more honest, I can't even call what I do competing.  It's participating.  Now don't get me wrong, this is not a "poor me, I'll never be good enough" post; I'm just being realistic.  I will never be able to run a 10K in 38 minutes like Saturday's winner (that's nearly a 6 min/mile pace).  I just don't have the genetics to enable me to do that.  But genetics is never a good excuse for not trying to excel at whatever you are attempting.  And that is why I compete.  My goal every year is to improve upon my time from the previous year.  I want to see how fast I can be.  I know as I get older, I am slowing down but I don't think that I have recorded my best times yet.  I am pretty sure that I have room for improvement - especially after Saturday's race.

When the gun went off, I positioned myself along the left side of the group so that the shoreline was clearly in view every time I took a breath.  I did this because the shoreline was parallel to the swim course for the first 500 meters.  That means that I didn't have to look up every 6 strokes or so to make sure I was on course - I just had to keep the shoreline an equal distance away.  My position also got me out of the main group which means that I didn't have to deal with flailing arms and legs.  I think I only came in contact with another swimmer 3 times.  I finished the 1500 meter swim in 27 minutes which is three minutes faster than last year.  I felt pretty good about my time and was itching to get on my bike.  The bike portion is the strongest portion of my race.  Cycling is about who can endure the most amount of pain for the longest amount of time.  Right off the bat, we had to climb a long hill but then there was a fairly short flat and curvy section before you crest and small rise and head to the first major turn.  I had a good head of steam built up by the time I came to the crest, having forgotten about the first turn.  As I crested the hill and started down to the turn, I realized that I was going too fast.  I came off the aero bars and grabbed the brakes.  Usually, I use the front brake as my main brake and I feather the rear brake to assist.  However, since I was going downhill, I didn't want to use the front brake out of fear that I would end up going over the my handlebars.  Unfortunately, I hit the rear brakes a little too hard and as I was trying to make the corner, my rear wheel slid out, dumping me to the ground.  I landed hard with the brunt of the force on my right thigh and the inside of my right elbow and right hand.  The sound of my bike scraping along the pavement was sickening.  As soon as I stopped, I jumped up, oblivious to my own scrapes, and grabbed my bike off the ground.  I stood there for a moment to clear the cobwebs and then began inspecting my bike (otherwise known as my other wife).  Other than some major scrapes and a slight problem with the rear brakes, everything seemed okay.  I fixed the brakes as best I could and after a couple of misfires, got going again.  Once I was moving, the pain from the road hit me.  At least nothing was broken.  However, as I approached the first big downhill (I hit 42 mph on that hill last year), I was very tentative and kept my hands on the brakes.  About halfway down the hill, I realized that something was wrong with my bike as it started vibrating like crazy and I was sure I was going down again.  Luckily, when I released the brakes, the vibration went away and I was able to ride it out.  Finally, over the next couple of miles, I was able to find a good pace and actually passed a couple of people.  The last 10 miles or so on the bike were some of the slowest I have ever ridden as I had to deal with more hills and more brake problems (I actually had to get off and try to fix them again).  I finally made it back to the transition area and as I was getting my running shoes on, the first and second place competitors finished.  Freaks. 

Having spent the last 6 weeks doing more running, I was confident that my run would at least be solid.  I managed to run the first three or four hills but had to walk a couple of them.  By the time I hit 4 miles, I realized that I was not sweating much which worried me.  I thought I had better slow down a bit.  But when I hit the 5 mile mark, I decided to throw caution to the wind run all the way in.  Crossing the finish line was a mixed blessing.  I was glad to be done but I was disappointed with my overall time.  It turns out that I turned in my slowest bike and run split ever.  However, in spite of that, I was still only 2 minutes off my time for last year.  If I had hit my splits like I wanted to, I would have cut nearly 10 minutes off my time.  At least now I have a reason to return next year.