Rev3 Anderson - Olympic Rev - TriathlonOlympic

Even though I didn’t swim badly, my navigation was terrible and I never felt like I could get into a good rhythm. Every time I just put my head down and swam for any length of time, when I looked up, I was waaayyy off course. I slowly made my way around the course, but I knew I was not off to the start I had hoped. I came out of the water to see that it had taken 40 minutes. Nope – not a good start, but it was time to bike and hope I could make up some lost time on the field.

Navigation was a big limiter, as was weight. The wetsuit isn’t as comfortable with the extra pounds that I have put on this year.

Not a great transition, but not horrible either. At least I saved the time I normally spend with putting on socks…

I hopped on the bike ready to attack. I had left the bike in a low gear knowing that I would need to climb out of the park entrance for the right turn on Manse Jolly Road. I saw a rider in front of me who I was looking to chase as soon as we made the turn. After I passed him on the first hill, my bike started to feel a little unstable. I was less than two miles into the course. I looked down and sure enough, the front tire was flat. Dang! Looks like I am going to start with an even bigger deficit than I had given up on the swim. After I changed the tube, I hoped that my problems were over and I could get to the business of chasing some folks down.
I started getting into a rhythm, even though the course was heading uphill. Although the other riders were spaced out pretty well at this point, there were other riders to chase down and pass. However, only a couple of miles later, I felt the familiar unsteadiness, and when I looked down, I was flat again. As I made the second change, I was approached by neutral bike support. They assisted with getting it changed and inflated. They also gave me an additional spare – just in case I needed it, and took away the two tubes I had already trashed. With some professional assistance, I was convinced that the fix was good and I had just pinched the tube by rushing through the first change. I thanked support and they went on their way.
I got rolling again, determined to catch up to the few riders who I could still see off in the distance. I passed a few people and started to enjoy the fact that the course was starting to level out and even move downhill at times. These good times didn’t last. At around mile 8 or 9, I felt the tire deflate yet again. Experience has taught me that one flat is unlucky; two flats are either a very unfortunate coincidence or a sign of something bigger; three flats signal an issue that is likely not going to get resolved on the shoulder of a rural road. As I went through the motions of changing it, I fought off the feelings of panic that were starting to arise. I took extra time to check the rim and tire for anything sharp and found nothing. I inflated the tube partially and reseated it to make sure it wasn’t pinched. Despite the extra care, I felt like my troubles were not over and I would likely be stopped again. Only this time, I was out of supplies. Maybe neutral bike support would be able to help again, but would my bike get me through the end of this race? Would I be ending my day with a ride back to transition and a DNF (did not finish)? I tried to stay positive, but it was getting more difficult. I still had 15 miles to go, was hopelessly behind the field, and was out of supplies. I carried on, hoping that the tube would hold long enough to get back to transition and let me continue my day.
The third change was effective – at least for a time. I was riding along looking over my shoulder (and seeing no one behind me) and down at my front tire more than the road ahead, and I was riding very tentatively, not wanting to put additional stress on a tire in which I had lost faith. I turned back on to Manse Jolly Road and started joining riders from the Half. At least if I had further trouble, I wasn’t alone anymore, and the chances of bike support showing up would be increased. I felt a little better. That was a mistake. Right before the turn on Liberty Highway, I saw the tire starting to look flat again. I hopped off the bike and felt it. Sure enough, it was about gone. With 4-5 miles left to go, I thought I would start walking and see what happened next. Maybe I would get help. Maybe I would walk it back in and get to decide whether to continue with the run. Maybe I would be pulled off the course. Nothing left to do but keep progressing forward.
A rider finally saw my plight and decided to stop. He asked me if I needed help, and I asked him if he had a spare tube and a CO2 cartridge. He did, and he left them with me before continuing his race. It was only by his generosity and willingness to sacrifice his time to help me that I would have a chance to finish this race. As I changed the tube, a spectator asked me if I needed help. I asked if he would take the two damaged tubes I was now carrying, which he did. I acknowledge that this is outside assistance and I could be penalized, but after the morning I was having, I was willing to take the risk. I headed back toward transition, hoping not to have to stop again. I breathed a sigh of relief as I turned back into the civic center and saw Jenna and her parents. I called out what had happened, since they had expected to see me more than a ½ hour earlier. As Jenna was about to take a picture I held up four fingers to demonstrate the number of flats I had experienced on the course. After nearly 2 hours, I was finally done with the bike. Seemed like a waste to ship it back and forth across the country to only have it fail on me, but that’s the way it goes.


Holy crap – what a bad day

I took my time in transition. Any race goals I had were now obliterated, and I wanted to say hello to Jenna’s parents, who had driven two hours that morning to see me. I told everyone that I would do what I could on the run course, but honestly I was not in a big hurry at that point. I also told them that I was sorry they had to see me in the state I was in.

In a lot of races, this run would have quickly turned into a death march. Hills are not my friend, and the experience on the bike had been draining, frustrating, discouraging, and demotivating. However, I wanted to have at least something positive to take out of the day, Jenna and her parents were waiting on me to get lunch, and I wanted to be done, so I sucked it up and kept moving the best I could. Even though I was not hitting good paces, I was at least keeping a run going. I stopped at each aid station to take in fluids and get a quick breath. I tried to enjoy the energy of the volunteers and the other participants, which helped. Despite a short walk or two after the turnaround, I kept my legs moving through the entire six miles. I finished the run knowing that I had put in a decent effort, and despite a lot of reason to doubt it, was actually finishing the race after what had been a rough morning.

I am okay with the run effort under the circumstances

I saw Jenna and her parents at the finish, got my medal, towel, shirt, drink, and had my picture taken. We spoke briefly about where were heading and left shortly thereafter. At this point, it should come as no surprise that when I got to transition to pick up my bike, the front tire was flat again. As close as it was – I have started 43 triathlons and have 43 finishes. The streak remains intact, despite a close call.
Of course, under the circumstances, I was among the last finishers for the Olympic race. Moral of the story – if you take the bike away from me, I am going to be at the very back of the pack, because there is no way I am going to out swim or out run anybody!



Rev3 and Anderson did a wonderful job with this event. The volunteers were fantastic, the weather was great, and the venue was challenging, beautiful, and unique. Having done races all over the country with numerous race management companies, I maintain that Rev3 is the best out there. They do everything that other companies do – they just do them slightly better than everyone else. In addition to good race amenities (medals, towels, visors, long sleeve t-shirts, and personalized transition areas), they also do logistics well, too. The course was well marked for the Olympic, and it was easy to see where the Olympic and Half courses went separate ways. There are unique challenges with doing two transition races, and they pulled it off in spectacular fashion. The shuttles in the morning to the swim start were easy to get to and ran efficiently, everything ran on time, and the gear bags left at the swim area were in our run transition spots before we came in from the bike course. Traveling to a Rev3 event is well worth the time and trouble.