J. Clarkson Memorial: Part 2 of 3

In writing this post I was faced with a very difficult task of taking what was in my heart and translating it into a race report.  The question I kept asking myself was, "how am I suppose to describe how it felt, when I was feeling indescribable?"

Triathlon competitor Bryan Brosious, of Missoula, was at the top of his game for the third [fourth] year in a row as he was the first man to cross the finish line, waving his fists high in the air, with an accomplished smile spread across his face. His long legs carried him past fans lining several rows of small bleachers at the final turn of the race. - Courtesy Abbie Tumbleson, WY News

I awoke at 4:14am after a restless night of sleep. Today was the day I had waited a year for. Today was also the day that would last forever.  I knew that in about 15 hours everything would all be over and I would be back at the Tri Pad.  In about 5 hours my triathlon life would be greatly changed by this race, for better or for worse was yet to be determined. I had made all my preparations in the days before so I was ready to hit the road with my accompanying parents at 4:58am.

The drive to the race was better than that of the other years. We managed to miss the yearly cattle drive slowdown, the usual rainstorm, and the anticipated construction delays. Three hours later, we arrived at the race to the sunniest day all year. Considering we were at nearly 7000 feet of elevation, the fact there was no snow was a victory in and of itself.

Pictures from the drive:

Upon arriving I sought out Janet’s parents, I am always surprised at how happy they are to see me. I think Janet’s mom told me she loved me and thanked me for coming about a half dozen times. She didn’t have to thank me, there isn’t anywhere else on the earth I would even think of being. It was nice to see all of the familiar faces from past years as I said my hellos to the volunteers and staff that remembered me.

One gentleman, a gentleman that I have known all four years said to me, “I think you are going to win. The guy that won the race last year isn’t going to show up.”  Weeeeell ain’t that something! That “guy” is me, and I AM here. I had a good laugh over that one.



After a quick mist of auto-detailer spray, Janet Bike was shining with the pride of the time and effort I had put into it. Before I knew it we were 20 minutes out from the start.



I went into final swim preparations as I headed down to the lake for a warmup in the icy water (oxymoron). I plunged into the water and it was cold. However, after my ice-bath training it didn’t phase me.









With the rescue boat following me, I swam about 10 minutes letting my muscles and mind acclimate to the approaching race. After a quick chat with the rescue boat while fixing my swim goggles, I was headed back to the start line.

Courtesy of Jim Blow, WY News 

*Frozen face

Before every open water swim race, it is normal for me to shiver very violently with the anticipation of the start. I shiver more out of nerves than out of being cold. I have done that for as long as I can remember. Today however, I didn’t shiver at all. I had a very evening sense of calmness come over me as I waited for the gun. I was ready.  I had done everything.  If it was hard, chances are I did it in preparation for this race.  It was time for the race to develop and work itself out.  There was nothing else I could do other than let my trained body and mind navigate the race as it unfolded.

Despite a lower number of participants compared to previous years, I did spot some fast competition on the start line. One guy, I knew well, he had beaten me in a previous race so I knew he would be close. He is a very fast guy and would be tough to beat. We said hello to each other as we squeezed shoulder to shoulder for the start.

The countdown started at 10…I reminded myself to give my best, but enjoy every moment of this final race. 3…2…1…BANG! I dove in and began swimming. At about 30 meters, the guy swimming to my left squeezed into me, bumping me into the guy on my right. After bouncing between the two for a few seconds I began to pull ahead. At 250 meters I had thought I had gone clear.

That was until I felt a foot tap, this let me know I had company. At this point of the race it is rare for me to have a swimmer that close. I made a few quick “zig zags” in an effort to rid the trailing racer and deprive him of the benefit of my draft. It worked, as I made the 500 meter turnaround I saw the swim gap was about 15-20 seconds to second place, and another 10 or so to a chase pack.

I swam comfortably hard the remainder of the swim. I remember thinking “enjoy this, it is the last time you will swim here.” I hit the swim exit to some great cheers. I checked the swim gaps, appeared to be about a minute.

My frozen fingers fumbled with trying to put on my mountain bike shoes, race belt, helmet, sunglasses, and arm warmers. After a struggle with my left arm warmer, I gave up and left T1. My swim was my fastest in all four years, but my transition was the slowest thanks to my unresponsive fingers.

*Wetsuit and goggles, OFF

*Helmet, sunglasses, bike shoes, race number, ON

*Brodacious is GONE

It wasn’t even a minute into the bike before my spotless Janet Bike was slinging mud all over itself and my Hammer Nutrition kit. I knew this was going to happen so it wasn’t a big deal. If you know me, you would know I hate to get my kits and bikes dirty. I mentally prepared to get everything muddy as I was going to do whatever it took to win. Even if that meant mudding up my bike, kit, and marring my bright white bar tape.

Post bike split photos of how dirty the once spotless Janet Bike became in 14.5 miles:

The entire bike was very muddy, more so than any other year. Most of the bike I spent whipping from one side of the road to the other in an attempt to avoid the mud and huge puddles. Each time I went through an unavoidable puddle, mud would sling all over, my bike shoe would fill with muddy water, and my speed would dissipate as my bike was bogged down.

The record setting year of snow and rain made for a very debris ridden and washed out bike course. The bike course is a large square; on the first stretch I rode as hard as I could. The second stretch, miles 4 through 7.5, were the most muddy and the slowest. There were times that I would go through the mud and almost lose control of Janet bike. Two times I found myself careening off the road. Stretch three was the fastest, I found the dry hard-pack and Janet Bike flew under my full power. I was riding very hard and suffering greatly. I kept telling myself “this is the last one, this is the last one.”

 Photo Courtesy of Jim Blow, WY News

I knew that the effort I was riding was necessary if I wanted to break my course record. I did the math in my head, when I get to T2 I will need to see about 58 minutes on the clock to have a shot. As I finished the final muddy section of the bike I removed my shoes and readied my screaming legs for more punishment. Just outside of T2 I saw my cheering parents. It was also here that a gentleman gave me a time check. “one-thirty behind your record.” I skidded into T2, hopped off my bike, and ran barefoot over the gravel. I glanced at the clock, 59 minutes. I can still do this, but I will have to run myself into the ground.


Only a true champion matches their kit with their bike. 

*Bike Finish

I quickly put my shoes on, traded my helmet for a visor, and grabbed my other arm warmer as I left T2 to some phenomenal cheers. Immediately into the run my legs felt thrashed from my stop-and-go bike ride. Starting the run being tired is never fun. It didn’t help that my feet were numb from the gallons of muddy water that entered and drained out of my shoe throughout the bike. The first thing I told myself was, “relax, this is the last time you’ll ever be running this course. Let the race come to you.”

*Starting the run: "Be here, be in the moment."

Mile one came and went. I was forcing myself to stay up on my toes, even though I couldn’t feel them. About a mile and a half into the run the elevation, power sucking mud, and the hard bike ride I did began to hit like a hammer. My body was totally caput and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I kept telling myself, “this is the moment you trained a year for. Stay here, stay in the moment.” I put all thoughts of pain and the finishing line out of mind. The time is now and I am in the moment. The moment was every bit as painful and uncomfortable as I dreamed it to feel. At mile two I hit an aid station. At about mile 2.5 a cyclist rode by me and charged me with a “kick a$$ Bryan!” That kept me going as I suffered my way to mile three.

At mile three I took a quick drink at the aid station and asked how close second place was. A lady replied with, “not close.” I have raced this course enough to know that mile to the end is run on guts. The elevation and mud had zapped all muscle power; from here on in it was will power. At mile 3.5 I ran a straight stretch that afforded a 20 second view behind, I peeked, no one there. I kept telling myself, “stay here, stay in the moment,” as I ran the last part of the run course. At mile 4 the pain slipped away when I saw the orange flagging that escorted the runners to the final stretch to the finish.

Photo Courtesy of Abbie Tumbleson, WY News

I saw my mom and a group of fans on the final corner. I raised my hands above my head as I plowed through the cheers of the crowd. Today was the day, I had delivered a big one for Janet’s family.


Photo Courtesy of Abbie Tumbleson, WY News

I rounded the final corner as a distant view of the finish came into sight. I made one quick check over my shoulder as I pulled off the throttle and let my legs coast and float on the cheers of the finishing crowd. I crossed the finish line as my head whipped back and a “man! What a day," escaped my lungs.



As I crossed the finish line the clock told me I didn’t break the course record that I set in 2009. The bike was simply too muddy and slow. My swim was my fastest, my bike was the slowest, and my run was about 10 seconds off my record year. It wasn’t in the cards to break the record, but I did my best with what the course offered.

After crossing the line I slumped over with my hands on my knees as the volunteer removed my timing chip. I took a few seconds to collect myself. One of the volunteers shouted, “get back, get back, let him catch his breath.” It wasn’t my breath I was collecting. Janet’s mom was there as the first to give me a big hug. I told her how hard I trained for this race and that I did my best for her.

Janet's mom quickly led me over to Jack, Janet's dad. He greeted me with "Bryan my boy, it wasn't as close this year."  No sir, no it wasn't.  With tears in my eyes I told Mr. Clarkson that I thought about this race and his family everyday.  I told him I wanted to give my best performance for the last race.  I know it is a small token of appreciation to their family, but training hard, respecting the race, and going fast was my way of supporting the cause.  It wasn't the fact that I won that I was thinking about. The reality is, this may be one of the last times we can all meet and celebrate health and each other's company.

I greeted the next few racers while I drank my Hammer Nutrition Recoverite.  I knew I had a little time to wait before the awards so I did my best to enjoy my last remaining hours at the race.  I received a ton of "congratulations," hand shakes, hugs, and "good job" from all the familiar faces.  I have never felt better or more accomplished.  I knew the final awards ceremony was going to be very special. 

Powerful stuff.  Part 3 to follow.

J. Clarkson Memorial: Part 1

*Pre Race Ride on "Janet Bike"

 All the races I do have a special place in my heart. This race, however, means the most out of all the races. The first time I did this race was in 2008, it was in the same year that I learned of the story behind the race. The race is organized as a cancer benefit by the parents of cancer victim, the late Janet Clarkson.

*Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson

In 2008 I won the race and was introduced to Janet’s parents, family, and friends. Over the past three years; 2008, 2009, and 2010 I have won the race and somehow became the poster boy for the race. I believe the underlying factor in me becoming the face of this race is not necessarily the fact that I have won three times in row. I think the main factor is that I embraced the cause, the history, and the spirit of the race. I respect the race, Janet’s family, and the town of people that graciously support the race.

*2010 Win

*2009 Win

*2008 Win

Over the years the Clarkson family has somewhat adopted me as an extended family member. As a result I want to do my best, respect the race, and honor their graciousness. Understandably, the expectations from the Clarksons and the race supporters for me to win built with each year.

In 2008 I had a great race. In 2009 I had a better race and beat my course record from 2008. In 2010 the story was different. I felt undertrained and very tired at the start line. As the race progressed I quickly found myself losing time to a very tenacious chase group and suffering greatly. In 2009 I won easily, in 2010 it took everything to gouge out the win, in itself paying tribute to the race by doing what I had to do to win.

In 2010 I won by a mere 9 seconds, I won’t say I was lucky to win, because I did whatever it took to do so. I would say I was lucky that things worked out like they did. For example, 9 seconds is gone in a blink and could easily have evaporated with a slower transition, a few steps of running off course, dropping a chain, or selection of incorrect tires. Again, I am thankful none of those things happened to me.

*Totally Annihilated After Winning in 2010

The day I won the 2010 race I promised that it wouldn’t happen like this next year. It was announced that 2011 would be the final year of the race due to health concerns of Janet’s parents. As if the race did not mean a lot to me, the fact that this would be the last year made the 2011 race mean the world to me. The worst thing I could think of was having someone else win the final race. I know if I were not to defend for four-in-a-row it would be extremely disappointing to Janet’s parents and the race supporters. In my opinion, it would be an unfitting end to such a great relationship and adventure.

My friend Jess told me that she respected how much honor I brought to Janet’s family and friends, and my family by my commitment to the race. I find it safe to say that upholding that for the final year weighed heavy on my mind the entire year leading up to the race. I thought about the 2011 race everyday leading up to it.

Throughout the year I may have physically been hundreds of miles from the race, but mentally I was right there everyday and every training session. There were times when I didn’t want to do things, but I did them anyway because I was going to do whatever it took.

I planned to do a couple things that would add to the 2011 race. For one, I planned to run a special bike color scheme for this race on the affectionately termed “Janet Bike.” In doing so I dismantled the bike, trued the wheels, repacked hubs, changed the cables and housing, bar tape, overhauled the bottom bracket, and cleaned every part. I even scrubbed the pedals and drivetrain with a toothbrush. By the end the bike was looking extremely awesome and working to absolute perfection. The second thing I planned to do was bring back the Hammer Kit that I set the course record in 2009. I was planning to wear the same visor, race number belt, jersey, and shorts because I had not worn that kit since I won in 2009, they had the luck in them.

Special Bike Setup:

*Special Race Haircut

*Shaved legs are worth 5-10 seconds, when chasing dreams every second counts

I am not ashamed to say that this race weighed very heavily on my mind and shoulders. About 5 months before the race I started to have dreams about it. Most of the dreams were not good ones. I had dreams that my bike fell apart, I ran off course, the race was cancelled, and even that I didn’t win. It was not uncommon for me to wake up sweating with sleep anxiety and sleep-tears in my eyes. One dream in particular I remember very vividly. In the race I had the lead until the run. At about mile 2 I was caught by a chaser and found myself running hip to hip with him. I remember feeling our hips bumping into one another as we ran stride for stride to the finish. I awoke in twisted sheets and blankets before I reached the finish.

I trained the last few months with this on my mind. I prepared for the worst, such as being caught on the bike or run and having to gut out a win. In training when I was running as hard as I could, I put myself in the race with my opponent bumping my hip as we ran stride for stride like the dream.

I remembered how cold the swim was in 2010 and how uncomfortable I felt in the water. In 2011 I knew it would be even colder and my advantage would be to embrace the cold water and be mentally prepared for it. As a way to ready myself, 2 months before the race I started sitting in the bathtub with the water on the coldest setting. As I sat submerged in the ice-cold water I was conditioning my mind and body for the cold swim.

The confidence that months of training, and doing the things that other people didn’t want to do, built a very firm position that I had done all that I could to be at my best for the 2011 race. I had the confidence of knowing that I have prepared for the worst, hoping that in doing so the best would happen. In the weeks and days leading up the race, the race began to weigh even heavier on my mind and shoulders. I won’t say I began to crack under the pressure, but I could definitely feel microscopic surface fractures develop as the race countdown became days, and then hours.  Had there been no pressure, I would have been more worried.  It takes a lot of pressure to make a diamond, my ability to handle the pressure adds to the experience. 

I think it is the "forever" that adds the pressure.  There were times that I would be cycling and start thinking about how much I wanted to win for the Clarksons and my family. More than once I would have to pull to the shoulder to let my eyes clear themselves of the welling tears.  The fact that I had one day, one shot, that everything had to be perfect, and I would have to live with that 90 minutes and that one day for, well, forever.  The fact that the end was near was very motivating and humbling at the same time.  If it were any other race I would man up and do the race next year if it didn't work out.  This race has no next year, whatever happens in 2011 is my last opportunity to honor the race and the Clarkson family.

Once I made it to the Tri Pad for last minute preparations I went into race-machine mode. The one advantage I had over everyone was the confidence of knowing that I would be physically and mentally ready to go to hell and back to win the final race. Half jokingly, I told myself that I am leaving the race in one of two ways. 1) After giving my best and winning for a 4th time, or 2) In a body bag :) (only kidding).  I am shooting for option 1.



Views from the Tri Pad:

*My partner while I worked on "Janet Bike"

The race is here, forever is now, it's time...