New Kit!

Well, it took a little longer than expected, but I got my new kit, and wore it at the Lakewood race.

 

And all together:

Gotta love hometown racing!

There was a race in Lakewood yesterday.  What's significant about that?  Lakewood is right next to Steilacoom, and the race course went nearly past our house.  The bike course was on roads that I have ridden for years, and the run course was similarly on trails that I know very well.  So, it was a no-brainer that David and I were going to do this race.  I had envisioned Tracy and Ryan standing on the corner of our subdivision and watching as we went by on our bikes.  But, unfortunately, this was the weekend that Tracy had scheduled a camping trip, so there was no family cheering section for us.

The Lakewood race had a split transition area, which is logistically a bit complicated.  Figuring that it might take longer than usual to get set up, we left for T1 before 7:00 for a 9:00 race.  It was a short drive (planning it out right, we could have even ridden our bikes to T2 and then T1, rather than driven, but oh well) and there was plenty of room on the racks for our bikes.  Just before heading to T2, a long-lost triathlon friend, Paul Palumbo, walked up to say hi.  Paul and I raced against each other for several years in the late 90's-early 00's.  At each of the races, we would usually end up within seconds of each other.  So, it made for a good friendship/competition.  One of his last races was USAT Age-Group Nats in Idaho when some joker spread carpet tacks all over the road.  So, it was a pleasant surprise to see Paul after all these years.   We chatted briefly, and then he went to set up his bike, while David and I headed off to T2.

It was kind of strange setting up T2:  a towel, a pair of shoes, and a race belt, and that was it.  I kept thinking there was something that was missing.  Of course, I had already forgotten to leave my cycling shoes in T1, so I had them with me to bring back on the shuttle.  After going over and over the race, I thought, "Nope.  That's all I need in T2."  Meanwhile, David and similarly set up his T2.  I stopped worrying about David a few races back.  He knows what he needs to do and, very quietly, just goes about his business.  Because I have been doing this for a looooong time, I will see someone I know nearly all the time, and waste time chatting away, so he's always waiting for me.  We walked off to catch the shuttle, and ran into Nick Johnson, last year's winner.  I've raced against Nick for awhile, and I think I may have beaten him once or twice, very early in his triathlon career.  Now, though, there's no chance; Nick is usually in a completely different race than I am.  If someone swims, bikes, and runs faster than you, well, guess what?  You are not going to beat them... ever.  It's still fun to see how close I can come to the young guys, though.  I also ran into Trev Daken, who was third last year.  Trev was wearing a shirt from last year's Whidbey Island Triathlon that looked like an old PeeChee folder, which was pretty cool. 

We traveled back to T1 on the shuttle and got ready for the race.  (Pre-race photo, before all of the fun!)

After getting settled in and waiting, we gathered at the water's edge for the briefing and got ready to go.  The swim course was well-marked, better than any course I've been on in memory.  Each buoy was large and the course was color-coded:  2 green buoys, then a red turn buoy, 2 orange buoys, then a red turn buoy, and 2 yellow buoys at the swim exit.  It was easy to sight and follow.  The gun went off, and I found my space quickly, not being pummeled as I normally am.  At the second green buoy I found myself next to a guy swimming without a wetsuit at the same pace that I was going.  We made the turn, and he executed a half-roll and instantly gapped me by a body length.   Figuring that he must be a "swimmer,"  I picked up the pace and got on his toes.   After sighting a couple of times, I realized that he was swimming pretty straight and swam with him, mostly just off his waist.  We made it to shore, and I ran up the boat ramp.  As I entered T1, I saw Paul, getting ready to leave.  I quickly got my helmet on and wetsuit off, and then, not so quickly, put it in the bag and tied it shut.  That took a bit more time than I wanted, but I figured that everyone was in the same boat, since this was a split transition.  I put on my shoes, got to the mount line and jumped on.  The person in front of me was trying to get his feet in his shoes and was weaving back and forth heading left.  I yelled, "On your left, your left, YOUR LEFT!"  as he kept moving left.  As I went past him, I realized it was George, and we briefly acknowledged each other with wry smiles.  I headed off in hot pursuit of whomever was in front of me. 

The bike course was on roads that I know well.  Really well.  I had ridden most of it with David the week previous to show him exactly where I thought it was based on the map.  Looking more closely on the day before, I realized I was mistaken about the North Fort Lewis (I know it's JBLM, but I will probably always call it North Fort), so we drove it.  I was correct about the course.  As I hammered along Dupont-Steilacoom Highway I saw David in front of me.  I passed him at 8 miles and saw Paul in front of me.  I had told Paul that both hills were big chainring hills, and I climbed the Dupont-Steilacoom hill in my big chainring, alternately sitting and standing.  As I crested the hill and started on the flats, I picked up speed.  As I headed down the hill into Steilacoom, I had the fleeting thought to turn into Cormorant Passage towards home, but realized that I needed to keep going straight.  I started freewheeling about halfway down the hill, hitting 40 MPH in the aero position.  (Paul, David, and I had talked about whether it was wise to stay aero down the hill before the race.)  Initially, as I was heading down, my right hand went to my brake lever while I remained mostly aero.  I realized that I didn't feel out of control and went back to full aero, staying in the car lane to avoid the drains on the side.  The rest of the bike was uneventful, and I headed into T2, still not knowing what place I was in.

I put on my running shoes and headed out of T2 about 10 seconds behind Paul.  Funny.  After all these years, we still are about the same pace.  As we turned on the trail, we started heading up a hill that I also knew really well.  I was gaining on Paul, and made the decision to hammer past him about halfway up the hill.  I also knew that I needed to keep pushing to the top of the hill, so I would be out of sight for a bit, and, hopefully, out of mind.  I knew that my advantage over Paul was that I knew how long the hill was, and when it would end.  After that, the run went kind of as expected.  The run course meandered back and forth until we headed towards the finish.  With a half mile to go, I heard footsteps and was passed by a guy MUCH younger, taller, and faster than me.  I knew there was no way I'd be able to stay with him.  I finished 7th overall, just in front of George. 

David came in soon afterwards.  He had another great race and finished 14th overall.  My instructions at the swim start were to stay on Nick's toes.  He said he did that until there was around 150 yards left, and then "panicked," and took off and dropped Nick, so that he was 2nd out of the water.  His other funny story was that he quickly put on his helmet, took off his wetsuit, grabbed his bike and headed out of T1.  It was only when he went to mount his bike that he realized that he had forgotten his shoes.

David ended up 2nd in his AG (19 and under) and I won my AG, so it was a good day for both of us.

Voices (or drumbeats) in my head

I ran yesterday morning, a couple of days after the worst run I've had in a long time.  3 days ago, it was 80 degrees and sunny when I ran in the afternoon.  I felt tired from the start, but thought that it would improve as I got into it.  The plan was to run a long tempo, but two miles into it, I bailed and finished the rest of the six miles at an easy pace.  I felt horrible the entire time.  So, yesterday morning, I had no preconceived ideas about how I would feel, since I was running at 5:00 AM, and I am NOT a morning runner.  Within the first 1/4 mile, I could sense that I was going to feel much better. 

While I was running, I tried to go over the new Taiko song that our group is working on for Obon.  The song is complex, with a lot of different, but similar phrases, and many different katas (movements).  Since Taiko drumming is as much about the choreography as the music, it is pretty challenging to remember the correct order and movements.  I spent the entire run, reviewing the music and the katas.  My run went well, and I think I have most of the song by memory.  I'll certainly find out during our next rehearsal.  I'm sure I made an interesting picture, swinging my arms around at seemingly random times during my run.

It's funny how different one run is from the next.  I had anticipated the tempo run all day, figuring that the warmth would make me feel good.  And I didn't think a 5:00 AM run would feel good at all.  Of course, it was the complete opposite.  I guess 30 degrees and bright sunshine do make a difference.  I was reading an article about Bevan Docherty where he says that racing in the heat is all a matter of fitness.  Obviously, from my run on Tuesday, I'm not very fit.  Hopefully, I'll acclimate and get more fit by the end of the summer.