Logistically, things could not have gone worse for me at the Whirlpool Steelhead 70.3 this past August. On the other hand, however, I had the race of my (admittedly relatively short) career. It's been awhile, but since I am snowed in for the winter and can't race, I think it would be therapeutic to reminisce about and share some anecdotes from my A-race of this past season.

First of all, because I am a procrastinator, I did not get a hotel for the night before the race until a week or so beforehand. The closest available room was in Indiana, while the race was just across the state border in Michigan. Why does this matter? Well, strolling into the race site at 5:45 (my wave started at 7:03), I was startled to see a ghost town of a transition area, with the exception of a few racers frantically rushing away. "It is 6:45, transition is now closing. All males 18-24 should be well on their way to the swim start." Holy Crap! There's an hour time difference between Michigan and Indiana! That wasn't on the website and it sure wasn't in the race packet! At this point I had no choice but to run to my bike (I had dropped it off the day before), dump out all of the contents of my bag next to it, grab my goggles, cap, and wet suit, and haul ass to the swim start. Did I mention this was a point-to-point swim? Well, it was, so my pre-race "warm-up" was a 1.2 mile beach sprint. I finally got to the start as the horn blew for my wave. I got my wet suit, goggles, and cap on in a flash, and waded out into the Lake Michigan in enough time to catch up with those lagging behind (I would have been there anyways, as I am not a strong swimmer). I guess, I might say that I really competed in the Steelhead 71.5 Quadrathlon, when that 1.2 mile run is added to the beginning.

Also, this was the second race I was late to in a two week period. The last race I had done was a sprint and I got lost and ran out of gas on the way there. Thankfully, one of those highway emergency vehicles spotted me, poured me some gas, and I was on my way to race. Granted, I had to set up my transition while others around me were coming in from the swim and grabbing their bikes, but I still made my wave.

Anyways, I ended up having a great swim, coming out of the water around 44 minutes. I had made a conservative goal of no more than an hour, 50 minutes at best, so I was ecstatic to be so ahead of schedule. This early optimism proved to determine much of the rest of the race. (Swim: 44:57)

It sure was a good thing that I had saved a few minutes on that quicker-than-expected swim. I had to embark on a scavenger hunt through a pile of clothes, shoes, nutrition, etc. to get what I needed for the bike. I ended up finding my shoes, threw on my jersey (although I realized later that it was on inside-out), grabbed some Hammer Gels and a Clif Bar that may or may not have been mine (my things were pretty sprawled out, close to invading my neighbors' territory), and managed to grab my Aerodrink and the associated rubber bands and bracket (nope, none of it had been set up before the race). After wasting precious minutes trying to figure out that damn velcro strap on the aerodrink bracket, I threw it in my bento-box and figured I could deal with it as I rode. (T1: 6:54)

Trying to assemble my Aerodrink on the ride proved to be a big mistake. Just when I thought I had it (I guess I really hadn't gotten the velcro taken care of), it just fell off and I ran over it (good bye $20 water bottle!). Oh well, time to just ride. Overall, this course was beautiful and fast. It was all rollers, but the type that get you going fast enough on the way downhill to give you the momentum to make the way back uphill no problem.

I would like to make a digression and share the biggest anxiety that I have had since competing in my first triathlon. I have always been extremely
worried that one of these times I will load my bottle cages with newly purchased Gatorade sports bottles but forgetting to take off the inner plastic covering, only to realize this upon the malfunction of the bottle when I go for that first drink. Not only would this be a huge mental psych-out, but consider the careful maneuvering necessary for getting that inner plastic covering off, and losing neither the bottle, the external cap, or your balance! Sadly, such an instance did indeed happen at this race -- as if I really needed anything else to go wrong! However, it was not of my own doing; for the hazardous bottle was handed to me from a volunteer at the aid station. Needless to say, this initially proved to be a mental obstacle. I did manage to get the dreaded inner plastic covering off, but lost the external cap, forcing me to chug said Gatorade rather than let it splash and spill out while in my bottle cage (remember, I did not have the option to dump it in my Aerodrink bottle). Upon reflection, his obstacle proved to be little more than a mere speed bump. It was no match for the positive attitude that was the product of a faster-than-expected swim and that had been building up over a very fast and enjoyable bike ride. And then there was the great irony of the situation, at which I could really only laugh. By no means is this a complaint against the volunteers. Volunteers make the world of triathlon go around, and they did so exceptionally at Steelhead. This ended up being one of my best rides and I finished just under my estimate of 3 hours (Bike: 2:56:42).

Nothing great about T2, except that I put my jersey on the right way (T2: 3:58)

On the run, first thing was first: go urinate in some bushes on the side of the road. This was another thing I had planned to do during that lost hour before the race. I remember there being a 3 or 4 other men with the same idea, all of us expressing our gratitude for being men, and thus having access to the great restroom that is nature. I also remember some very jealous women who probably ended up wasting precious time in port-a-john lines.

Other highlights from the run: A guy ran by spreading his excessive cheerfulness, reminding everyone around how much fun they were supposed to be having. I agreed. One of the mental strategies I use is to remind myself how much I pay to race and that I do it for fun. I, therefore, remained pretty cheerful for most of the run. One volunteer said the most encouraging words I had ever heard during a race: "Nice smile!" It was a reminder that I was indeed having fun and enjoying myself (in spite of the pain that has inevitably kicked in by this time of the race).

In the end, I finished the run fast than I had hoped. I expected to finish it in about 2 and a half hours, mostly running but certainly stopping for the occasional walk. I managed, however, to go the entire half-mary at a (relatively slow) running pace, only allowing myself to slow my pace if I was holding a cup in my hand (i.e. I walked the aid stations, and ran all the distances in between). (Run: 2:17:41)

Total: 6:10:10

Overall I was super happy with this time compared to the Florida 70.3 race that I had completed (although hardly), less than three months earlier on little training, in about 8 hours. Highlights of this (disg)race were finishing the swim in well over an hour, having to stop at several kayaks for rest, and snailing my way through the half-mary in close to 3 hours.