Mountain Man Triathlon - Olympic Distance - TriathlonOlympic

The water was cool, but I felt fine in the wetsuit. With about 4 minutes to the start, I felt the urge to go to the bathroom again (not the type that is easily done in a wetsuit either), but told myself it was nerves. I positioned myself toward the top third of the group (all Olympic women and Olympic men 45+). I had been warned that the altitude would probably be a factor at the start of the swim, and it was. I felt out of breath and hemmed in by the other swimmers. The lake water was a muddy brown and there was no visibility. I told myself to relax, get lots, of air, and just keep going. Lifting my head up to sight was awkward and tiring. I changed my stroke to extend the time on my side to take in more air.

This was my first open water swim, and I had heard my people say that nothing can prepare you for it, and they were right. There was contact, but at least the "washing machine" felt like it was set on the gentle cycle. Maybe it was due to this being a smaller event, but I was grateful. My arms slid off a few neoprene-clad bottoms and I wondered if that's what petting a dolphin felt like. I felt a few hands slide off my bottom as well.

Sighting was tough. When I lifted my head up, I didn't see the buoys half the time, just the bodies in front of me. I felt a tug at my ankle at one point, and a lady told me that I was swimming off course. This was such I polite group, I both gave and received sorries as contact was made.

Once things thinned out, I was able to settle into a decent rhythm. I got some extra minerals as I swallowed lake water a few times. I had no idea if I was swimming well or not, or how long I had been in the water, just that I was slowly headed somewhere. After rounding the bouy to head to the boat ramp, I was hit with the glare of the sun. At least I could make out people leaving the water up ahead, so I focused on them.

Overall, I was happy with how the swim turned out.

Practice sighting.

Upon reaching the shore, I wobbled upon standing. I would have certainly failed a field sobriety test. The rocks were sharp and I gingerly made my way out of the water. I tried to run to the transition area, but my legs weren’t very peppy. I really struggled getting the wetsuit off of my feet. I stood and tugged, then sat and tugged, then stood, then sat... Why don't the wetsuit manufacturers take a cue from Guess jeans in the 80's and put a zipper by the ankles? If anyone has tips, please share. I had half a Z bar and a drink of water before heading out.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/209901352

This is the part I was dreading. I do not like riding downhills, and this course has some good ones. I had met Tracy (a BTer) the month before to ride the course, and had to stop a few times to get my head right before taking the descents. I did not want to do that during the race. I had ridden some semi-hilly courses near home the last few weeks and hoped that would help.

The first part of the course was fairly flat and fast. The road is smooth with a very wide shoulder. It was not coned off, but traffic was light. It’s really beautiful. The lake and the pines were a nice change of scenery for this desert girl. I had decided ahead of time not to use my aero bars for this race. I am still getting used to them, and the course had enough up and downs that I didn’t feel super comfortable. About 7.5 miles in, there was a sizable climb. Knowing that I would be surrendering time as I braked and gave my legs a rest on the way back, I decided to push the hill. I teach indoor cycling and I am used to climbing intervals, so chug, chug, chug I went, passing several people. Maybe not the best strategy, but it was fun.

Finally, the moment of truth came: time to ride downhill. Part of the fear comes from the initial approach when you can’t see the bottom of the hill and it's easy to imagine falling straight down. I had gotten to 29 MPH on my test ride. Some people approach 50 here. I feathered my brakes and started down. Soon, I was talking to myself. “You’re awesome! You’ve got this!” Feather, feather, feather… It took about 3 minutes and I saw 32 MPH on my CatEye. I didn’t enjoy it, but was thrilled to be done.

Toward the end of the ride I started noticing some dull hip flexor pain. My hands were also starting to go numb. In hindsight. I probably should have ridden some of the course in the aero bars. I think I started to lose focus toward the end of the bike and let my pace slow.

I had been intermittently drinking Body Armor sports drink and felt fueled and hydrated, but not overly so.


Use the aero bars for the flat parts of the course. Keep riding outdoors.

I probably slowed down and jumped off my bike too soon. As I was switching shoes, I was trying to decide whether to take some Sport Beans with me, use the port-o-potty, or put some Body Glide on my feet (I had put some blister powder in my running shoes before the race, but had felt a little hot spot on my left foot during the bike). I did nothing. I almost forgot to take my helmet off. Despite putting my race belt under my running shoes so it would be easy to remember, I forgot to put it on. Applied some more sunscreen. I burn easily and wanted to be safe. The hip flexor pain was completely gone.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/209901354

Weave the belt through the shoes so I have to touch it to put the shoes on. Bring a visor next time to shield my face on the run.

Starting on the run, I noticed that the rubber-leg feeling was much more pronounced than on the sprints I had done. I think it went away faster, probably because I wasn't trying to book it out of transition. About half a mile in, I realized I had forgotten to put my race belt on. I decided to keep going. Even if I got disqualified, I wanted to know what I was capable of time-wise on this course.

I settled in to a good pace, knowing that the the hill was looming. I had heard from about it several people, including one who said "It goes straight up." I had checked out the elevation charts online, and while it was steep, it looked shorter and less steep than Saguaro Monument East in Tucson, which I have run dozens of times. I had also gotten a preview by truck a month ago, thanks to Tracy, so I knew that it kept going up after the switchback. I had heard that many people get discouraged and start walking after seeing there was so much left to climb.

Once I got to it, I focused on a short, quick stride and tall posture. Several people were walking and I racked up several "kills", to coin a Ragnar term, including a woman in pink compression socks that had passed me on the bike. When I reached the end of the pavement, I was directed onto a dirt path. Tracy had pointed that out, but because we didn't actually drive it, I had forgotten about it. The dirt wasn't super-deep, but it is slower than pavement.

When I hit the downhills, I let go. I run downhills well, and stayed quick on my feet and let gravity do its job. When things flattened out again, I tried to keep my intensity, but had slowed down. I think physically and mentally, the race was beginning to wear on me. After the fact, I realized that other than my one marathon, this was the longest race I had ever run. Within the final mile, the pink-sock lady passed me. I thought about picking it up, but couldn't or wouldn't summon that little extra. I did manage a little kick toward the end, but she finished 3 seconds ahead of me. After we stopped, I noticed the faded 36 on her calf and realized that she was in my age group. We chatted for a while, and she told me that she had been fixated on me ever since I passed her on the hill. She was using me as a rabbit and thanked me for pushing her on the run. When she told me her name, I recognized it from other race results and had expected her to beat me going in. Anyhow, I now have a new Facebook friend.

I thought about this a lot afterwards. My run time was pretty much what I was expecting and very strong for this course, but I can't help feel that I wimped out a little. Granted, I did push hard, but if I'm honest, I didn't want to take the pain to the next level.

I changed into some dry clothes, connected with some friends, and had a Hammer protein bar that I had brought and some cold watermelon the event provided. Cold watermelon is manna after a race. It was pretty warm by then and you really feel the sun at altitude. As I drove away, I passed several of the HIM competitors on their runs, and I was happy not to be one of them (this year anyway...).



Experience with open water swimming. Transitions. Bike skills, comfort, and pacing. Ability to take the pain to the next level.


Very nice race. Pretty and challenging course. Laid-back and not too large.

There were a lot of firsts for me with this race (Olympic distance, altitude, wetsuit, open water, substantial hills), so I didn't want to put a lot of pressure on myself. I think there is a lot of room for improvement, but I am mostly happy with how I did.