Last August I signed up for the Eagleman half-iron distance race with my friend Dave, but I'm still taking it easy on my running so I switched to the "Aqua-Velo" (no run) division of this race. This was a bummer but the better part of discretion I felt. I have also signed up for my first Iron-distance race, for November 1, 2008, and right now all my training is about the Ironman, everything else is secondary. So, I didn't take this race as seriously as a real half triathlon ("Aqua Velo" sounds more like a spa treatment than a difficult athletic test), but it was fun to be back in a race after more than a year.
I had a peaceful swim. It was in the Choptank river in Cambridge, Maryland, a brackish offshoot of the Chesapeake, and it seems the jellyfish weren't biting on this day. But, I never really felt like I got in a groove -- navigation was a pain for some reason -- and my time was slow for me, 34:39 (though later on I heard buzz that the swim times were slow, for pros and everyone, presumably due to the currents and tides -- a glance at the times from last year confirms this). I did like that it was a one-loop course rather than two loops (same with the bike).
Then it was onto the bike -- and it was my kind of ride: almost totally flat, with just a slight incline here & there. First 10 miles I took it easy -- rest from the swim and warmup my legs. Second 10 miles I worked a little harder, but it was into the wind. Next 10 miles (20-30), I really kicked it up a gear. Next 10 miles I tried to keep it in that gear but started to flag around mile 35. I know it was then because 3 times I checked my odometer every 10 minutes (or so it felt) and I was still on mile 36 each time.
One turn I took somewhat aggressively, but not hugely, and found myself headed straight for a big ol' patch of gravel while in a big lean. So I had to straighten up and go flying into a gravel parking lot. Slowed down, got back on the road and had to spin up again. The cop standing at the intersection didn't say a word. I'm guessing it was probably the 50th time he'd seen it.
It being such a big race (2000+), and me being in the final (13th!) wave, the roads were absolutely littered with dropped cycling equipment of all kinds. It was actually somewhat hazardous, I had to really watch the road; almost hit a few water bottles. If I had slowed down and scooped it all up, probably would have paid for the race. Probably $200 worth of air cannisters alone.
Next 15 miles (miles 35-50) I kinda limped along a bit, getting tired, and there were some headwinds that came & went as we made various turns. Mile 50 I decided to try going into overdrive again, to see how it felt, and managed to stay there until the finish at mile 56. Because I was the last wave in a very large race I spent the whole race passing the trailing ends of the preceding waves. I must have passed several hundred riders. Maybe I should have left my handy-dandy bell on, but I wanted to be aero as possible. I was flabbergasted at how many people, including none-too-lean young ladies and lads, moving down the highway at not exactly a streaking pace -- were nonetheless riding $4,000 machines with Zipp wheels (around $1,000-$3,000 per wheel) and all the rest. Kind of disgusting -- excessive, decadent maybe. Also I'd be embarrassed to ride a machine like that, I don't feel worthy. In any case there is something satisfying about blowing by someone riding equipment that would feed an African village for 18 months. I got passed early on by 3 people, all aqua-velos -- a woman of around 50, a guy wearing a bike uniform, and a guy pedaling with his legs stuck out and wearing all black (crazy in that heat). By mile 40 I had re-passed the bike shirt and the bow-legged ninja, but no sign of the lady. At mile 45 one guy passed me for good. At mile 53, I finally caught the lady. That told me that, although she and I had nearly the same times, I paced myself better than she did.
For the whole 56 miles I had a song going through my head: "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" by Doris Day -- except I was signing "Relax, Relax, Relax." I'm a big believer that eliminating any tension not actually needed to propel yourself is key to good performance. And when you're in pain, you tend to tense up even more than usual.
Speaking of pain, the last 3 miles or so I could see part of the run course along the road as I came in, and it was brutally hot and there wasn't a stitch of shade and no trees and the runners all looked miserable. What had been a letdown, having to skip the run, became a cause of celebration. Plus I had not been saving anything for a run and the idea of doing the half-marathon at that moment turned my stomach.
On triathlons I always enjoyed the bike leg and found the run to be more or less painful. But doing the aqua velo, I found the last portion of the bike was pretty grueling. I remember thinking,"this feels just like the run usually does." Makes me realize it's not just the fact that it's specifically running that makes it tough -- it's that it's the last hour or so of the race, and you're nearing your limit. Here, since I didn't have to run, I was pushing myself and nearing my limit on the bike.
After I passed the mats and came into the transition area, my race was unceremoniously over. Some guy wandering around the transition took my chip and gave me a medal. Then it was time to drink, eat, swim in the river to cool off, generally chill, and watch the runners come in, including my friend Dave, who had a far tougher day than I did but did very well.
My bike time was 2:37:22, average speed for the 56 miles was 21.5 MPH. My overall time was 3:14:34, good enough for 4th place out of 47 men. (Also I actually won my age group for the aqua-velo -- but even though it was the fullest age group, there were still only 14 guys in it. Still it's good to be king of something for once, no matter how small the kingdom).
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