Sunday, October 18, 2015

It was a short season, Charlie Brown

If you notice, one of the most recent entries was about the first race of the season.  And this entry is about the last race of the season.  No, you didn't miss any in-between races... there weren't any.  My season consisted of a grand total of two sprint triathlons.  The only year that I had less races was the year that I broke my collarbone during the first race of the season.  The funny thing is that, while I missed the adrenaline rush that comes with a race and the camaraderie of seeing with and racing against friends, I didn't really miss much else.  I had a great summer, watching a lot of water polo and cheering on my boys, first in Southern California, and then in Hawaii.  I also had fun vacationing in those places, too.  But enough about that.  This entry is about Bonney Lake.

I have raced at Bonney Lake every year except 2011 when I was broken.  It is always fun, and I always appreciate Rory and Deanna Muller putting on a nice race.  I think back nearly 10 years when I first them at the 5-Mile Lake Triathlon.  Boy, have things changed! (for the better)

This year's Bonney Lake race was no exception.  I traveled to the race with Bruce and Terry.  Bruce was there to defend his title and go for a 4-peat, and Terry got shamed into racing by Karen.  It was a beautiful morning when we arrived, much different from last year when it was a rainstorm.  Getting things set up in the sunshine is always much easier than in the rain.  I saw Rory just after I picked up my race packet.  I apologized in advance that I would be leaving right after the race, so that I could watch David at the first water polo tournament of the year.  It's too bad that the race was a week later than usual, since Labor Day was a week later.  I'm sure David would have liked to race.  

Rory informed me that they had changed the run course from the previously hilly course to a pancake -flat course that ran alongside the lake's edge.  While I am not a masochist, I know that hilly courses favor me and I voiced my displeasure to him, jokingly of course.  Secretly, I knew that, given my lack of fitness, a flat course was just fine for me on this day. 
 
After getting my transition site in order, I went for a jog along the run course.  Yup, it was flat.  It was definitely more scenic than the previous run course, as it followed the lake for the most part.
 
I then jogged back and, went to watch the start of the Olympic distance race.  I walked out onto the dock and met up with Chris Blair, someone whom I have known and raced against for 15+ years.  He had won most of the previous Bonney Lake Olympic races, and I was surprised that he was not racing.  He told me that it was a lack of fitness that kept him off the start line this year; I laughed and told him that my lack of fitness wasn't going to keep me from racing, so it shouldn't have stopped him.  After heading back to Transition and getting my wetsuit on with help from Bruce, we both headed down to the start.  We met Karen, Lucas, and Lauren on the walk down, and I said hello to all of them, leaving Bruce to his family.  After warming up in the surprisingly cold and murky water, I made the decision to start on the far right, next to the dock.  I have always started on the far left for this race, figuring that I would be left alone and not get mauled, but this never seems to work.  As it gets nearer and nearer to the race start, people have always kept moving over further and further left, so I end up in the middle.  I decided to try something different, starting next to the dock.  I had visions of "riding the flume" at Wildflower.
 
I said good luck to Bruce, headed off towards the dock and waited.  The gun went off, and I started swimming.  Wheeeee!  While not quite riding the flume, I was able to swim without being in the washing machine.  It was a great swim, other than the fact that I wasn't in very good swim shape.  As I neared the turnaround, I saw the leaders making the turn.  This was a bit of a shock, because they are usually long gone, and I'm fighting for position at that point.  I made the turn and headed for home.  When I first started doing triathlons, I would oftentimes find a bit of clear water about 3/4 of the way back on some of the races.  Knowing my swimming proficiency, my initial thought was always, "Am I in last?  Is everyone in front of me?"  While this always turned out to be an irrational thought, it did always cross my mind.  This time, though, I saw a few people to the side of me, so I knew that I wasn't in last.  As I stepped up onto the boat ramp, I started to unzip my wetsuit, and realized that I could not feel my feet, and was a bit disoriented by the cold.  Prior to the race, we were told that the water was 68 degrees.  LIARS!  I have swam in 68 degree water, and this was not it.  Apparently, there was some shift related to a heavy rain we had during the week before the race.
 
As I ran through Transition and got to my rack, I noticed that there was only one bike gone from my rack.  Not too bad of a swim, I thought.  I not so quickly got out of my wetsuit. (I decided that one of my projects for the offseason will be to cut some length off of the legs of the wetsuit, as I have always had a difficult time getting my feet through the legs of the suit.)  I had set out my arm warmers, thinking that it might be a bit cool on the bike.  After futzing with them for a few seconds, I left them behind and headed out on my bike.   I heard an immediate SCREECH! coming from my front wheel.  Not knowing what the @*#& the sound was, I stopped, grabbed my front wheel, and spun it.  It spun freely without a sound, so I remounted and headed off.  The bike was uneventful, other than muttering under my breath that I wish that I had put on the arm warmers after all.   I jockeyed back and forth with a couple of racers throughout, trading places frequently.  Clearly, we were all about the same age and the same pace.  I kept thinking that, if I had been in better shape, I would have been able to drop them.  Then, I started thinking that I will need to train more during the winter than I have in the past few years.  As I finished the bike, I still could not feel my feet.  I also was a bit chilled on my upper body and hoped to find the sun during the run.
 
Again, I transitioned a bit slowly into my running shoes; my excuse this time was that my brain was a bit addled from the cold, my hands were cold, and I couldn't feel my feet.  I started off on a trot with a couple of other racers.  One of them was just off my heels and was breathing really hard.  After a half mile of the heavy breathing, I couldn't stand it any longer and put in a surge, so I could get rid of the heavy breather.  Bruce passed me headed the other direction a little around the mile mark.  I gave him a shout, but he was pretty focused on his race.  As I got to the turnaround, the volunteer shouted, "Sprint turnaround here... but you're doing the Olympic distance, right?"  My response:  "Oh, heck no!"  I got some laughter from the volunteers, and I gave them a quick smile.
 
Finally, with about 1/2 mile to go, my feet finally thawed out enough so that I could feel them.  It's a really strange feeling, running on numb feet.  You can feel the impact all the way up, and it's a bit more jarring because the proprioception is gone from the bottoms of your feet.  But you can't actually feel the impact of your feet hitting the ground.  It's as if you are running on the lower part of your legs.  As I saw the finish line, I had a hypoxic moment.  I looked at the finish line which was a right turn away... and missed the turn.  Doubling back, I made the turn and crossed the finish line (photo is of me just before making my last turn). 
 
 
I quickly packed up my stuff and headed out to watch David play water polo.  Afterwards, I found out that I had won my age group... kind of.  One of the top 3 was Keith Szot, who hammers me in every race and is in my age group.  Since he finished in the top 3, he was taken out of the age group awards, hence, my win.  At this point, I'll take wins any way I can get them.  And yes, Bruce won the race for the 4th straight time.