Moses Lake Triathlon

I had another amazing tri-adventure at Moses Lake!  The race report will be posted below the pictures, thanks for checking it out. 

The entourage: Anne, Kevin, Jess, and Corrie.  The weekend was so much fun!

Corrie did awesome in the 10K race!  She finished 2nd and left with some sweet awards. 

Triathlon day!

The entourage rollin' in

Another day at the office 

Transition filling up with P4s, P3s, Plasmas, Treks and other ridiculous wind cheating time machines.

Ewwwww! There is a dead guy in the water, just swim around him. 

The swim exit

Getting close

Checking the swim gap

People just stood there blocking T1, don't mind me, it's not like I am in a hurry or anything.

Transition number 1, move it man!

The flying mount, clear the way!

The Murder Machine awaits the chase pack in Transition

Time to man up, if I wanted to keep the gaps I built during the swim and bike I would have to enter the "hurt locker."

Hot and tired, but not giving up.

The finish line, 2nd place

One of the best pics of the Murder Machine

Admiring the Murder Machine post race

5 foot nothing, Anne, trying to steal the P3

Time to transition to the next race, that's it.

Moses Lake Race Report

The Tri Palace saw major action this weekend as Corrie, Jess, Anne, and Kevin stayed over for our planned trip to the Moses Lake Family Triathlon. We all had a blast the whole weekend. After the race on Saturday, we enjoyed delicious treats like pizza, Fruity Pebbles, smores, bean dip and other “post race only treats.” Seriously, I was just as excited to eat pizza later that day as I was with finishing 2nd overall.

We arrived at the race site fairly early on Saturday. Jess and Corrie were running in the road races that started before my triathlon so I tried to snap a few photos of them in action. Corrie hammered the 10K finishing 2nd place, fast.

As soon as I was close to the venue I started to get nervous. I was P3s, P4s, Plasmas, Quintana Roos, disc wheels, and a lot of aero helmets. It is very easy to get caught up in the mess of what other racers have as far as setup. The truth is that some people drop a ridiculous amount of money, 10 grand for example, to buy every aspect of speed. But, you can’t buy heart, you can’t buy a competitive spirit, and you can’t buy the passion necessary to win races. Those items hide in deep dark places that can only be found through sacrifices of 5:30 am workouts and doing the things that others don’t want to do.

If things were not hard at some point during the lead up to any race or important event, then the accomplishments would not mean what they do or be worth pursuing.

In a brief second of nervousness I questioned if I had a chance to win. It was actually perfect because the nervousness turned my attitude into a mindset of going out hard and really putting the suffering to the field. I had the confidence of knowing I had done the things that others did not want to do, 5:30am is never fun, but I did it.

Another motivating factor was when the guy racking his bike next to mine though it would be okay to jam his bike in next to the “Murder Machine,” knocking my handlebars sideways and just being rude in general. I promised the “Murder Machine” that we would try and burn him up during the bike. Not many things in triathlon irritate me more than lazy people showing up 30 minutes before a race and bulldozing their bike into an up-front and full transition rack…if you want a good spot get up earlier. Don’t demo derby your bike into a full rack and be like, “don’t mind me, it will fit perfectly if I can just smash these two bikes out of the way.”

After that incident I had my motivation for pain when the effort became hard, perfect. I felt great during the warm up, so great that I “played dead” before the start as to not tip my hand that I was primed to swim fast.

The start came and I made it through the washing machine of arms, arriving at the first swim buoy in 2nd place. People, for reasons beyond me, start so hard during open water swims. I start at my normal pace and feel comfortable the whole swim. On the way out to the turn-around-buoy I broke off the front of the main group and started to put time on them. I rounded the .25 mile buoy and had a look at the chase pack. During the return to the swim exit I swam a comfortable tempo, I exited the swim with a glance, the lead looked to be about a minute over 2nd.

I had a great T1 and left for the 12 mile bike ride with a fairly large lead. Once on the bike I settled into a hard pace, my confidence growing with every painful minute. I still don’t have my complete bike form back but I am getting closer every race. I had a great ride averaging 23 mph, I drank my bottle of HEED and was riding strong.

However, at mile 5, just before the turn around, the eventual overall winner passed me, the guy was riding a P3, not surprised, and was putting out major wattage. I had to let him go, I stayed with my pace and took splits to the chasing field. My lead was comfortable, I saw Mr. Bike Smasher gapped at about 8 minutes behind me…don’t eeeeeevvvvvvver touch my P3 son.

I made it back to T2 and left for the 5k. I had scouted this course and I knew it was going to be hot. When scouting I made strategic points on which I was going to lift the pace, cruise, and start the finishing kick. The run is always hard, this one was no different. I managed the pace, the pain, and the heat well enough to keep my gap on the field, but I couldn’t catch 1st place. I made the turn around to a much appreciated cup of cold water down my Hammer Kit.

After being briefly cooled off, I held the pace for the mile or so back to the lake. I ran over the bridge leading back to the park, I knew I was close to the kick line, at 400 meters my pace lifted and so did the pain. I ran up the hill to the finishing lane. At 50 meters it was full throttle and full pain, I love sprint finishes.

I finished second overall, first in my age division, and avenged the assault and battery transgressed upon my P3. I was happy with the day, and even more excited about the treats that awaited our entourage at the post race party at the Tri Palace. The trip and company were awesome, thanks for the cheers.

Queen City Triathlon

Saturday was the Queen City Triathlon. The venue was changed for 2010 so my course record at the previous venue wasn’t up for grabs, but I did want to win again.

People remembered me from last year, asking if I “planned to win this thing again.” It is hard to understand that I am not the course record machine I was last year. I can however, do the best with what I have to work with. This is, after all, triathlon and triathlons are supposed to be fun. Triathlon is not easy and if it were they would call it, well, “tri- this is so easy I am not even sweating -athlon”…or “basketball.” Don’t even try to argue.

The 1000 yard pool swim is my least favorite distance of any swim, my heart is with open water for sure, but then again any triathlon is fun to me. I think the reason I don’t care for the 1000 yd pool swim is two-sided, the first, it is boring; up, down, up, down, up, down. The other side is the uncomfortable feeling in my lungs and chest when sucking in oxygen mixed with chlorinated water, it burns…but it is still fun, I digress.

I had a decent 1000, never pushing too hard. I hit the first wall, with a splash heavy flip turn, counting myself close to last in the heat of 10 racers. My lane partner and other race favorite, Evan, had gapped me 3 body lengths by starting his swim ridiculously fast. The markings in the pool were different than my home markings so I missed the wall a handful of times flipping to far from the contact points. My 65 year old friend Norm called me out on in after the race, thanks Norm.

The gap to Evan stuck while I continued to swim easily, making up time on the others in the heat. I lost track of my laps around 4, the hardest thing to do in the pool is count laps, “was I on 4 or will it be 4 at the wall?” I gave up counting and just swam, enjoying the race. I ditched a flip turn to ask my lap counter, “what lap is that?” He muttered, either “14” or “16.” Eh works for me, I kept swimming. Evan had about a lap-length gap after my inquisition to the lap counter.

I was surprised to see a guy exit the pool before Evan and me. “Who is that?” I had been keeping my eyes on the next lane over, my friend, and fellow P3 rider, Livoni was a fast swimmer. I expected him to lead the swim. The man I saw exit first was not Livoni. Evan exited next, followed by me about 25 seconds later, Livoni followed me to T1 a short while later.

When I enter T1 I use peripheral vision to find motion and judge placing. I knew the motion in the far left was the fast swimmer man. I racked next to Evan and he was still there, I could tell from his progress I was making up time in the transition. Evan exited in first; I skimmed off most of the lead and left right on his heels. Fast swimmer man evaporated from the lead while in T1, transitions are important, fact. Evan had a miscalculation at the mount line, I swerved the P3 around him and hopped aboard 10 feet past the mount line with the race lead, perfect.

Side-by-side with Evan in Transition One

Evan and I battled wicked cross winds at the front of the race, the gusts would toss my P3 around the lane, I held on like I was in a bike rodeo, yee haw! Evan bridged up to me and made the pass. He rode slightly faster than I did, continually adding time into my hurting legs. On the tail wind stretch of the course I rode with nothing but the sound of my buzzing drive train and my helicopter mimicking wheels, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. On the headwind sections of the course I rode into a nasty foe that sucked my power with the “dirty air” known as “drag.”

The pace Evan and I rode during the bike section had made the race a two person race, I rode away from the field and Evan began to ride away from me. By the final turnaround I calculated Evan’s lead at 40 seconds, our lead on the chasers had swelled to 2:45 - 3 minutes.

I hit T2 and the run porting feeling tired, really tired. My legs were really tired going into the race, I knew I wasn’t going to be really fast, it happens. Despite being insanely tired and in pain, I was telling myself the whole run, “be happy to be suffering.” I am lucky, every race is a good race in my mind. Millions of people can’t do what Evan and I do everyday. I managed the run, finishing in 2nd place and winning my age division. I have never been more tired at a finish line in my life, I barely mustered a hug for Evan. That was a tough race… and I liked it…after I was finished.

Evan deserved the win, he had a great race after a great winter of training, I am glad to see his time pay off. We have gone back and forth with each other for years, if I have to lose, then Evan is a worthy victor.

 I won this trophy, and a few other awards

Evan won my favorite HEED and a manly hug from the Brodacious

 

The day was great for everyone, I had Corrie, Kevin, Jess, Niki, my parents, and a lot of tri fans cheering me on. Triathlons, whether they are dream races of wicked speed and power (been there) or an agony of tried muscles and suffering (been there too) are all experiences that I appreciate. In this game there are no “do overs.”

…and by “game” I mean life.

…and by “life” I actually meant triathlon races.

In that case there are actually “do overs” by signing up the next year…

Unless they move the race to a new venue, then you are out of luck…unless you hold the old course record, then you are the man and everyone else must live with that F - O - R - E - V – E - R. (Sandlot movie quote).

I don’t make the rules.

...unless it is the post race treats rule, then I actually do make the rules.  What better way to enjoy hard training and racing than by buying one of each variety of M&Ms (one bag Reese's) and mixing them together?

 Kevin doing the measuring...he has a Master's Degree so the proportion was perfect.


What happens when a triathlete tries to lift six large bags of treats?

He gets crushed under the weight of every delicious chocolate piece of goodness, MAN DOWN!!!

Here is to more training, racing, and subsequent treats. :)

Spring Festival Triathlon

The Spring Festival Triathlon was a huge success and a really fun trip! I knew I was going to have a great day, I was finally feeling a little fitness and I was ready to play in the “hurt locker.” My main concern was not if I was going to have a fun day or finish well, I was more concerned with what the heck I was going to do about the battle wound from the last race…

How am I supposed to work with this? It probably doesn’t help that I have a matching one for the other foot.

Corrie and I arrived early to the race, met up with Kevin, checked out the lake, picked up packets, and put the “Murder Machine” into transition. The race site was beautiful; I did the normal pre race setup, number belt, shoes, helmet, sunglasses, tires, and wetsuit, before slipping over to the water’s edge for a pre race meeting and swim warmup.

I over heard a person say, “the water is so cold, it’s only 60 degrees!” I told Kevin 60 is a nice spring swim in Montana. My advantage.

The swim start was crowded and murky. Some person, who obviously lacks a master’s degree, thought it would be a great idea to have the swim start and finish at the exact same location. This is fine except that this was a three-wave, quarter mile swim. The leaders, from the previous wave, were on top of the awaiting swimmers within minutes.

It was no surprise that the swim got ugly. I actually don’t mind a rough and tough swim, I spent 10+ years wrestling and grappling, I think it is kind of fun to combine swimming and wrestling. When the gun went off, the lead pack converged onto one another making a straight line for the first buoy. Within the first 100 meters I was hit with an elbow, knocking my goggles sideways, bumped a handful of times in a fight for the draft, all while swimming through a washing machine of arms and legs.

I felt great in the swim, I rounded the first of two buoys in 6th or 7th. I made up a few spots before the second buoy, exiting the water and heading into T1 in 3rd. I ran into T1 with my eyes searching for motion, motion that could be used to calculate my position. T1 was buzzing with the masters heat that had a 5 minute head start, thwarting my calculation plan.

I had an awesome T1, easily beating the field with a 31 second transition, leaving first in my wave. I had to weave through a few of the masters while getting to the mount line. I calculated my sprint speed so that by the time my flying leap landed aboard the P3, and my feet found my shoe tops, I wasn’t at a total stop due to the big hill near the bike mount. Perfect, I found the shoes and hit the cranks before running out of forward motion.

I immediately went full power for the first mile that it took to get onto the relatively flat bike sections. I felt great on the ride, I was quickly catching the masters racers that started in the previous wave. At mile 3, two guys went by riding a tandem, followed by a 39 year old that was powering. That put me in 3rd, although I don’t count the tandem team…they should never be included in the individual categories, they can haul with two riders and half the aero drag.

I hit the turnaround with the tandem, the 39 year old, and 4 previous wave masters ahead. I continued to ride hard, I caught the masters racers and held my position. At mile 8, a guy riding super smooth went by on his P3. I closed the gap to him going into T2. I had had a so-so T2, ditching my pre conceived sock plan.

I left T2 with legs that finally, after two races of fatigue, felt ready to run. Early in the run, two guys running sub 5:30 pace passed me. The other P3 rider re-passed me a half mile later, I was now in 6th (5th when you take out the tandem team). I stuck with P3 man for a mile and a half running hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. He was a little faster on the flats but I felt stronger on the hills of the course. I knew it was going to be a dog fight for the place. I was willing to enter the “hurt locker,” if he wanted the place he was going to have to suffer to get it.

My chance came on a large hill at mile 2. I hit the base of the hill still hip to hip with P3 man. I disguised my move by only shifting up the pace ever so slightly. The guy dropped slightly behind into my slip stream. I continued to gradually lift my pace and subsequent heart rate, my legs almost protested but I held the tempo high. I kept telling myself “don’t look back, don’t look back.” At the top of the climb I heard only my footsteps and my breathing. The gap was opened and I was deep in the “hurt locker.”

I willed myself to keep the pace high for the final straight stretch before a steep downhill to the finish. I made the downhill and put in my best effort at a sprint finish, I ran through the finish line at full speed almost taking out the lady taking pictures and handing out medals. “Watch out!”

The Face of the Hurt Locker

I ended up 4th overall and winning my age division, not including the tandem team that murdered the field. My swim was great and my 20:40 5K was a sign of life in my racing. After the race Corrie brought me some good Hammer Recovery items and helped me take off my race wheels. Plus, if it were not for her, I would have no pictures to post in my write ups, she is awesome!

Overall it was a great day of racing and traveling, I finally felt somewhat ready to race, and finally looked forward to the suffering of racing hard. Every day and every race is getting better. Here is to more training for me.