unexpected results

Here it is, incredibly early Friday morning, and I'm getting ready to go for an easy ride before my next triathlon. That feels good to say...my next triathlon.

I began my comeback tour at SMP last weekend and it went wonderfully. I wasn't quite sure what exactly to expect...after all, it had been half a decade since I formally competed at this level. The last time I participated in an endeavor like this, I was at the peak of my physical performance as a division 1 college athlete. The last time, I had been training for the past 8 years and was in excellent shape. This time, although active, I had only been training specifically for a tri for a matter of months. But, I was very pleasantly surprised by the results.

The morning of came just like any other morning. I surprisingly got a good night's sleep. The temperature was a little brisk for an early July morning. I walked out the door and the hairs on my arms instantly reacted to the slight, chilly breeze. I lifted the recently polished road bike on to the back of my car, grabbed my backpack that I had situated the night before and made my way on the all-so-familiar route to the park. My mind raced and my eyes opened a little wider as I came upon the sea of parked cars. I had forgotten how big of an event this was! I unloaded my bike and coasted the easy downhill route to the transition area. Thankfully, the tire pressure held this time. It was going to be a great morning.

I made my way to section II and found my area marked by the little 985 taped to the bike rack. I hung my bike and very maticulously placed everything in my backpack on a towel in my new 2'x3' home. My mind continued to race as I made my way to get my timing chip and to get marked. A very calm buzz filled the air as athletes of all ages made final preparations and warmed up for their various heats. I made my way back to my area to check out my competition, constantly stealing glances at the back of athletes' calves to see if their marking distinguished them as in my age bracket. I also looked for the absense of leg hair, a tell-tale sign of a more serious and prepared athlete. My legs were bare.

I made my way down to the marina ramp, put on my swim cap and goggles, and swam over to the starting area, exerting only a minimal amount of energy. I needed to be fresh for the swim- that's what I was going to struggle with. A calm, quiet, almost unnerving mob of athletes awaited me on the beach, slightly bobbing up and down in the gentle waves of SM lake. The sun rising on the horizon cast reflections on the lake that loomed in front of me. I had to squint to see the bright orange buoys that marked the course I was about to embark upon...they seemed further out than I remembered. And so the countdown began, but there was only one thing present in my mind: one hour, one hour, one hour, one hour, GO!

The swim started smoother than I expected, calmly making sure I kept a consistent stroke, breath, and path. At the quarter and three quarter mark I crossed paths w/ other swimmers, inadvertly getting kicked or hit, causing me to break stride and find a clearing through the now choppy lake. I peaked at my watch as I struggled down the homestretch of the swim and saw that I was in the 7th minute. I was just about on pace and the math I did internally helped me clear my mind of the pain my arms and legs felt. I exited the water at about 11:30, just a bit off my pace. I knew I needed to make this transition count and that I could also make up time on the bike. Uphills seem worst when they follow such an exhausting swim, but I would soon prove that wrong.

I made it to my bike, threw my cap and goggles on the ground, jumped into my cleats, snapped on my helmet, and ran towards the bike route, just as I had practiced so many times before. I didn't recognize it at the time, but not too many bikes were already gone, an excellent sign of my position. It took a couple minutes to get my legs back underneath me, but I soon found my pace as I wove through the packs of riders. The ride felt amazing, which was soon validated as I cruised through the first lap checkpoint 20 seconds before I expected to. I pushed through the second lap and arrived at the second transition 30 seconds faster than I anticipated. I slipped out of my shoes as I was slowing for the dismount and jumped off my bike to run and grab my flats. The next sight was one of the proudest moments I've had in a while...I turned the corner towards section II and the entire bike rack was empty. I was exhausted, but I couldn't fight the smug grin that grew on my face. I had beat my entire rack through the bike.

A minute later I was on the running trail, back on time, but something didn't feel right. My entire upper body had stiffened throughout the ride and it was a struggle to breath. I relaxed the best I could until I got to the hill at the dam. I hadn't prepared for this- traversing up such a steep incline when my entire body already ached of exhaustion. I struggled my way up the hill, slowly picking one heavy leg up and placing in shortly in front of the other, made it through the first water station and started to feel a little better. I picked up the pace, determined to keep my 7-minute mile pace, but my abdomen told me otherwise. Every time I pushed a little harder, my stomach felt nauseated, and I was forced to slow. I made it through the back trails at SMP and watched the hour mark slip by as I made the last incline just before the finish line.

I finished in 1:00:57, 40th overall and 4th in my age group. Not horrible given that the race included 205 athletes. I missed my ultimate goal by a little over 3 minutes, but just missed the hour mark I was shooting for by :57. Still, not horrible concerning I took 7 minutes off my time from 5 years ago. But, this is just the beginning. This is just the beginning of a very long, yet prosperous comeback tour that awaits me. Lawerence is in two days, and Wichita follows the week after. I am ready. I am confident. I will hit my times this weekend.