Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Triathlon the First: San Rafael Classic

Date: 6-28-08
Place: Huntington State Park
Distance: Sprint

Swim: 25:54
T1: 2:38
Bike: 50:27
T2: 1:32
Run: 27:50
Total: 1:48:21

OA: 17/53
AG:  4/9

After getting in my head the idea that I should do a triathlon, I purchased a road bike.  This had been after a few months of riding a mountain bike with slick tires.  During that time I had also been running and swimming in preparation for this event.  As a youth I participated in the Boy Scouts of America where I learned how to do many swim strokes.  I even completed a mile swim at a summer camp one year.  During my high school years, I had also taken on several weeks of lifeguard training and became a certified life guard which meant laps in the pool every day. I felt I was prepared for triathlon swim training.  I purchased a membership to the Dimple Dell Recreation Center and jumped into the pool for my first time in probably 9 years.  I figured 20 laps should be a pretty easy effort.  After 2 laps I thought I was going to die.  I researched swimming online.  I watched YouTube videos on proper swim stroke and I practiced, practiced, practiced.  Come race day I was still not prepared but I looked at the race ahead and figured, this is my first race.  All I want to do is finish.  I made a plan.

First, I would finish the 750 m swim any way I could.  During my boy scout years, they taught us that if in open water you can practically swim forever doing the elementary back stroke.  I made it up in my mind that I would swim freestyle as long as I could then flip over and swim on my back until I felt rested.  After the swim, I would get to ride my bike.  Cycling had been my passion for many years so I was not at all concerned about the 15 mile bike.  I had been a fair runner in high school and college and I knew I could run the 5k, I just wasn't sure how I could handle a 5k run after a swim and a bike ride so I figured I would walk if I needed to and run when I could.  The weekend of race day loomed over me and I became more and more nervous.  The night before the race we traveled to Huntington State Park to pick up my packet and to eat the pre-race meal that had been provided.  After dinner we drove to my parent's house and I spent a restless night tossing and turning and dreaming of the possibility of somehow failing.

After waking. I drove to the park and prepared my transition area.  This was my first race so I kind of had no idea what I was doing but I was confident in the research I had done and prepared as best as I knew how.  I grabbed my cap and goggles and walked down to the waters edge amidst throngs of people clad in neoprene.  Wetsuits!  In the depths of my research I had come across something about wearing wetsuits during the swim for warmth but when I looked them up they were all north of $200 and I was not about to spend that much on a piece of equipment for a sport I wasn't sure I was going to continue.  While getting ready for the race, I bumped into an old high school friend, Amber.  Since our high school years, Amber had become a swimmer and was confident in her task of finishing the swim leg of the relay she was doing with her mom and her brother.  We chatted while she slipped into here wetsuit and I just stood there wishing I had some neoprene as well.  I was probably one of two people not wearing a wetsuit but I had grown up swimming in the cool waters of the lakes of the Manti La-Sal National Forest so I figured I would be just fine.  The race director announced the start, we all entered the water and we were off!

I made it probably 200 yards into the swim when I could not breathe anymore so I followed my plan and flipped over to turtle style swim to the first buoy.  While swimming, another racer bumped into me and asked if I was quitting.  I stopped and tread water while telling him I had no such plan.  He informed me that I was swimming back to shore.  I looked and sure enough I had somehow turned around and was pointing straight back to shore.  I kept swimming on my back, stopping every so often to check my heading.  When I felt rested, I would freestyle my way through the water.  When I got tired, back to elementary.  While in the water I cursed myself for even entering this race thinking that it was a terrible idea.  I wasn't having any fun and I was never doing to do this again.  Eventually the horror ended.  I made it back to shore where I climbed the boat ramp into transition.  When I made it into transition, I was surprised to see Amber standing there out of breath, fresh from her effort.  I was surprised that she had not done better.  She lamented at her effort and commented that open water swimming was a little different than pool swimming.  I assured her that it was as I slipped on my socks and bike shoes.  I said my goodbyes and took off on the bike.

I am writing this post a good 8 1/2 years after the race so my memory is a little fuzzy about the specific details of this race.  It was however, my first so there are parts of the race frozen in my mind forever.  Most of the bike ride of this race is not one of those parts.  If you have ever done a triathlon you know that a good portion of it is mindless pushing on, relying on your training to keep you going.  Most races, I don't remember much of the swim, the bike or the run.  For this race, I do remember passing men from the search and rescue of Emery County, who were the beneficiaries of the proceeds of this race, on ATVs scattered along the bike course to help any stragglers.  I remember passing Amber's mom and cheering her on.  I remember climbing the last steep hill to the turnaround.  I remember refilling my water at the aid station before starting back to race central.  I remember the exhilaration as I descended that hill and screamed on my bike back to the race finally realizing that I had actually been climbing the whole time on this course.  I also remember the relief mixed with anxiety as I rode to the bike finish to start the run, unsure of what would happen next.  I consoled myself and remembered to stick to the plan of walking if I had to just get to that finish line.  I dismounted my steed, sauntered into transition where I removed my helmet and bike shoes and stepped into my running shoes along with a hat.  I exited transition and ventured into the unknown.

Years before this race I attended Emery High School where I ran track my junior and senior year. During those years I learned the names of several Emery High School "legends".  I also made many friends that ran along side me every day after school.  Before the race I bumped into Stanton, one of my old track buddies.  I also ran into Kristy, one of the legends of Emery High school track.  I made my way through the camp ground and eventually onto the dam which led us on a path circumventing the lake.  While on the dam, I was passed by a guy named Merlin.  He is Amber's brother and he was on a blistering pace.  Shortly after that I was passed by Stanton, my old high school track running buddy.  The first aid station came shortly after I was passed by Stanton and I drank that water like I had never had water before.  I left the aid station and pushed on, running the whole time.  About mile two, we closed in on another aid station.  I again availed myself of the volunteer's service and turned around to see Kristy closing on me.  I remembered that I had passed her on the bike.  I remmeber aying hello and thinking how neat it was to be passing such a phenomenal athlete.  When I saw her closing on me during the run, I was tired.  Every part of me wanted to walk so I could just finish the race and be done with triathlon forever.  I had a good time on the bike but the swim was terrible and the run was hurting and I had had enough.  Then I realized that I was about to be passed by a girl and my legs took over my brain functions and I put all thoughts of walking out of my mind.  She chased me for the last miles.  Hearing her footfalls behind my silenced the screaming in my legs to stop. Finally we hit the last 100 yards where we passed the finish line and made one final loop around the campground.  I don't think I had ever seen anything so glorious as that red and blue arch.  I gave one last push around the loop and in the final 30 yards I passed Stanton.


He screamed at me to keep going and I passed one old dude before I crossed the line and entered the finishing chute.  Once I stepped over that line and slowed to a walk, all that frustration of the day melted away.  I no longer wanted to quit triathlon.  This was the most amazing thing that I had ever done.  Suddenly I felt like the most accomplished person in the world.  I wanted to find another race, then another and another and I wanted to do triathlon forever.

I found Kathy Jo and my mom shortly after finishing.  They both hugged me and told me how neat it was that I had finished.  We headed back to mom and dad's house and I spent the rest of the weekend in a post race glow that lasted all weekend.  I spent the rest of the fall continuing to ride and occasionally running and swimming... I think... It's been a long time since then and I didn't keep accurate... or any records of my training.  Eventually I found other races I thought would be fun and signed up.  Keep your peepers ready for more triathlon recaps.  Next up:  You can do a triathlon swim in a pool?  WHAAAAAAT!?

100 Triathlons, an Online Journal

First, an introduction to this blog.  Sometime during the summer of 2013 I read an article about a young teacher who became the youngest female to complete 100 marathons.  At the time, I had a friend who had written a book about his first 100 marathons and the idea of 100 of something really drew me in.  At that point in my triathlon career I had completed around 30 triathlons and I had been doing 8-9 triathlons a year and had been loving it.  Also at the time I was 32 years old.  I realized that if I continued doing the sport that I loved and raced 8-9 times per year I could reach the 100 benchmark for triathlons before I turned 40 so I set a goal.  100 triathlons before I turn 40.  It had all the hallmarks of a SMART goal.  Very specific, totally measurable, completely achievable, very realistic and definitely time based.  Since then I have done 7-11 triathlons a year and I am well on my way to achieving this goal.  This blog is my way of documenting all that I have done for myself and my posterity. An online journal.  If you happen to stumble upon it in your perusing of the interwebs, welcome.  I hope you find my musing entertaining.

And now for a little background.  When I was 11 or 12 years old I remember watching the Ironman World Championship broadcast and being completely blown away that anyone could complete something so amazing in one day.  I remember gauging the distances and secretly thinking how amazing it would be to some day be able to accomplish something so grandiose.  112 mile bike ride would be like riding a bike from my house to grandma's house (really closer to 150 miles, but still).  I was a boy scout and had grown up swimming in the lakes of the Manti-La Sal National Forest and had even once swam a mile but swimming 2.4 seemed unimaginable.  That planted a seed.  Fast forward 7 years.  I served a mission in the Washington Seattle Mission.  10 of those 24 months were spent in bike areas where I rode my bike 10-15 miles a day.  At the time I thought it was impressive.  I have since been re-educated.  The last 4 months that I served in Seattle I served in a bike area so I built a pretty good bike base.  When I went home, I figured I would never ride again so I gave my bike to another missionary and thought nothing of it.  I had been home a grand total of 4 days when I missed the sweet allure of being astride a saddle with lactic acid creating that familiar burning in my legs.  I purchased a mountain bike and started riding again.  Around that time, a new bike mechanic named Fuzzy (yes, really) had moved into the Price area and started building trails.  I started riding them and the next fall I attended college and signed up for a mountain biking class.  It sucked.  We hardly did anything.  The next semester, Fuzzy started teaching the class and it got so much better.  We rode once a week as a class and took trips once a month.  We went to Moab, Fruita and even to Deer Valley to ride the lifts up the mountain and careened on our bikes back down again.  I got married, my wife, Kathy Jo, joined the class and borrowed her sister's bike and rode with us.  She hated it.  On our first trip, she rode a trail too advanced for her, crashed and decided to give up mountain biking.  We moved to Salt Lake and I convinced her to buy a mountain bike and to ride with me.  I promised her I would be gentle and take her on easy ride.  We took trips to Moab and didn't do anything too scary and she slowly started to embrace the twin wheeled machine that I had come to love.  I had scaled back my riding while attending the University of Utah but still rode my bike to school but I hit the trails very rarely.

I graduated from college and for Christmas 2007 Kathy Jo surprised me with a brand new mountain bike.  I took the knobby tires off my old mountain bike, put on some slick tires and started riding it on the roads during the winter of 2008.  I fell in love!  I remember the joy I felt at riding 30 miles in one day. I wanted to continue riding.  About this time, for one reason or another, it's been so long ago I can't really remember why, I thought about that Ironman broadcast I had seen so long ago and I got it in my head that I should do a triathlon.  If you know anything about me you know that I am a planner.  I like to know before hand where I'm going, where I need to be, when I need to be there and I need to have a really good feel for how I'm going to accomplish whatever it is I need to accomplish.  I do not do spontaneous very well.  I read about triathlon, I read about training I researched to know what to expect.  I found a triathlon in Emery County where I grew up called the San Rafael Classic.  It was close to my parent's house so I knew we could stay with them before the race.  I signed up and started swimming and running along with all the riding I had been doing.  I called up Fuzzy to ask him about how to make my bike a little faster and he informed me that if I was going to do a triathlon I really ought to consider getting myself a road bike.  On our way home from a mountain biking trip in May we stopped in Price at Fuzzy's shop so I could ask more about road bikes and he happened to have one for a good price that would fit me.  He attached some pedals that would fit with my mountain bike shoes and gave me a quick run down on how the shifting and brakes work on a road bike and off I went.  The feeling I felt as I pedaled that bicycle was about the same as the feeling I got when I first flew on an airplane.  Speed, gravity, exhilaration mixed with just a little bit of fear.  When I stood up and mashed the pedals, the bike leaped forward.  I felt like I had never gone faster in my life.  I was instantly hooked.  When I returned to the shop, I bought the bike and we brought it home with us.  A few more weeks of riding, running and swimming would bring me to late June when I would take on my very first triathlon.  Stay tuned for a recap of the San Rafael Classic Triathlon 2008.