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 Swim
Comments: I'd barely gotten back on the age group side when I heard my name--my sis was cheering me on, and right after that the gun went off for the mass start (150 athletes tearing into the water, FUN!) ... totally unexpected, which was great 'cause I had no time for pre-race jitters. I just joyfully bounded into the surf with everyone else! Started swimming at knee height, and was indeed passing people still run-wading. Over the top is faster, folks! Some waves to get through.  I took it very easy the first leg, which had major swells (but I'd looked at the cloud patterns and made sure to sight off them). With the mass start, it was a washing mashine straight through to the 2nd bouy. Past the 2nd buoy, things got rough. There was a major current and chop, and looking at the mounting time on my watch, I started to worry--I should have been done by now. Was the current actually not allowing forward movement? The fast pack in front of me was thinning out, but I was leading a second pack. We all hit the pieces of cut-up jellyfish about the same time, 'cause I HEARD the yells (and my own), even underwater, and could see the ghostly gobbets around me. There was nothing to do but keep going. That last leg felt, and was, truly endless--it had been mismeasured to tack nearly an extra kilometer onto the swim! Nevertheless, I was the 7th woman out of the water (including pros). Unfortunately, 3 passed me on the run up to T1 :). I gotta learn to run on soft sand wunna deez days! What would you do differently?: Nothing. This wasn't meant to be a "race" for me. Given that and everything else, I think I did swimmingly ... hee, hee. And yes, the time includes the run up the beach (low tide, soft sand) and across the road to transition, so my actual swim time was REALLY good.  Transition 1
Comments: This race had wrist timing, so I kept forgetting to stop at the timing table and have my wrist chip scanned. Poor Ekki (by the yellow timing case) kept having to grab me by the wrist after I'd blown by his table and he'd nearly get pulled over and off.  What would you do differently?: Set up transition earlier. Still had "work" to do during T1.  Bike
Comments: I'm being completely honest about this course, which is not to dissuade anyone--I strongly encourage this tri, as it is truly an experience and adventure of a lifetime with no equal. However, if you want a sterile TT-style course where everything is perfectly controlled and you can perch on your bars and barrel through with your aero helmet, you should probably stick to races in, say, Switzerland. With the hair-raising pitched turns, steep inclines, corkscrews, screaming downhills, and incredible views, this would have made a perfect roller-coaster ride. However, add in the bicycles ... and Vespas, motorcycles, other bikes loaded with families and crops (same bike), cows, cement trucks, lots of darting dogs, and indeterminate (nonexistent?) traffic rules and what you have is an Indonesian-style, non-closed triathlon bike course. HOWEVER, this was also, by far, the best-marked, best-marshalled, best intersection-controlled bike course I've ever been on. There were hundreds of race staff, Balinese police, and federal police lining the course. The Balinese are actually used to the presence of slow, unpredictable vehicles that will suddenly turn, so they're pretty good about giving cyclists room. The Balinese were fantastic. People yelled encouragement even from the trucks and motorbikes. One gorgeous Balinese woman yelled "You can do it, ma'am!" with a huge smile as she zoomed by on a Vespa. My favorite was a line of maybe 20 children, mostly girls, chanting AYO! AYO! AYO! (Indonesian for GO!) I really wanted the children and women especially to see a woman flying by on a racing cycle. Several cars and trucks actually tried to make space for me by going fast in front of me, or by pulling to the left to let me pass. This was the toughest, craziest, funnest bike ride in the world. Being on a tri bike was a serious disadvantage, though. There's very little opportunity to be in aero and you must be on the brakes constantly, plus, the hills, hills, hills. Luke and Agnes were not kidding about the nature of the course. A lot of people dropped chains on the hills, including me (the only hill I walked). There were times I got stuck behind a truck on a climb and had to slow to nearly a dead stop, then try to start again and pass the traffic in front of me. There were worse times I got stuck behind a truck or jam on a downhill and had to come to a wheel-smoking stop. Passing is tricky, since while traffic GENERALLY moves up the left side of the road, traffic will occupy any available space, regardless of what side it's on or what direction it should be going. Ideally, if you plan on going faster than, say, 20mph on any part of the course, you should have superior bike-handling skills. Preferably downhill-mountain-bike type, with lots of urban traffic experience. If you're a good climber and are otherwise pretty slow (ahem--me), it's actually a great course. I really got to enjoy the neighborhoods and stunning, hilltop ocean views. I did nearly get hit by a duck that flew off a truck. What the duck? What the truck? I didn't like sucking on non-regulated diesel fumes most of the way. I think mostly from still being sick, but also from the fumes, I was hocking large multicolor loogies most of the ride. Another highlight was that as I was zooming in on the bike, Amanda was finishing up her run. "You look fantastic! Bring it home!" I yelled. "You too! You go, girl!" she replied. We later chatted about our respective races and she said I had looked so smooth and comfortable coming in on the bike. What would you do differently?: Used a road bike. Other than that, nothing. I loved this course, accepted its zaniness, and used stalled moments as "rest opportunities" (even on downhills, uh, yeah.) This was a wonderful biking tour of an island paradise and its colorful locals. Again, given all that, I thought holding a 12.5 ave was pretty damn good, for me. I'm sure I could have been more focused and gone faster, and the course did seem to end all of a sudden, but none of that was my aim. Transition 2
Comments: Poor Ekki at the timing table. "WAIT!!!" and grabs me by the wrist. He futilely "scans" my left wrist, then mutters, "No, no, no, that is your vatch, I must haf your timing chip" and grabs my other wrist. I'm just incapable of remembering not to blow by, and which side I put my timing chip on. What would you do differently?: See if there isn't a way that Yankz could work with butterfly lacing. It takes a lot of time to do my shoes up.  Run
Comments: The heat and humidity were oppressive--equatorial tropics at their finest (this ain't Hawaii, folks). It literally felt like a hot, wet blanket choking you, and you were trying to run with it on. Seeing the people coming in as I was going out, far more of them were walking than not, and these were top-rate, experienced endurance athletes. Several were stopped with cramps. I quickly decided to go with 1:1 run/walk. My legs were great coming off the bike, and I hadn't any muscular fatigue, but I literally felt like I was boiling every time I ran. I realized this was a race where I could easily keel over 400m from the finish, and though this is an Ironman saying, I kept saying to myself over and over, "Don't eat the paste." I felt fine, but knew that pushing it would be overdoing it. Oh, and I'm not thin, in case anyone noticed. Lots of excess blubber + hot race means you have to race conservatively. It's just not worth the risk. It was pretty neat, actually--a group of Balinese boys perched on a ledge, watching and cheering the runners saw me trot (jiggle?) by and exclaimed, "Wah! Yang gemuk bisa!" meaning "Hey! The fat one can do it!" I don't know why, but I perversely thought that was one of the best cheers of the day. The environs were beautiful--a quiet neighborhood, fishing village, oceanside, and part of the run through the marketplace (pic is from the 5K run--none of the triathletes looked that good on the run):  I started to overheat about 6km mark. I turned very red and puffy and stopped sweating. I furiously licked my arms for salt, and thank God for the plentiful aid stations--I poured water all over myself. Not that it was going to evaporate, but it would pick a lot of heat up just as it was running over you. There was a point where I felt like I couldn't go on, and a man--a bystander--ran up to me with a baggie full of sweet tea, with ICE, such a luxury in these parts. I was so immensely grateful. After drinking the cold tea and rubbing the ice on my arms, I felt infinitely better ... and managed to pick it up again to pass my Doppelganger in front of me who had just passed me before. The strangeness of this race was complete with the fact that a girl who looks EXACTLY like me, in my age group, racing in similar kit, was right behind me most of the race. My sister (where HAD she been?), who also looks just like me, had in fact followed her, cheering her on at different parts during the race. Even at the end, Brennan thought he recognized me and announced my name as she ran through the finish line! The end was 400m on soft, steeply sloped sand, so all I could do was hang on for dear life and barrel down it, trying to keep my footing and move forward as best I could. I totally forgot (again!) that this was wrist timing, so the finish line wasn't the finish--I needed to go 5m forward and have Charlie scan my chip (here he is waiting patiently for finishers).  I was so hot that after Charlie scanned and removed my chip and I got my medal, I took off running again straight for the ocean and dove in (this is past the finish line and chip swipe).  What would you do differently?: Nothing. It was great. I executed a perfect run given my condition and the weather which I wasn't used to. Post race
Warm down: I waded into the ocean, only to have a small, surely pointy skull smash into my shin. An errant young bodysurfer's head had neatly found my leg. OW!!! While I lay supine in the cool surf and watched the awards from the water (I made it in for awards! What a shock!), my sister got this great shot of Luke getting his prize:  She then came and fished me out of the soup and took this picture with who she thought was the real winner (awwww):  My sister is the very best sherpa on Earth. She schlepped me and my crap all over Bali, made sure I was very comfortable, well-rested and well-fed at her home (and then well-recovered), came with me to the race in the morning and stayed well through the afternoon, packed up my transition and took me home. She even brought her assistant cheerleader who was loved by all as the race mascot--we need more cowbell!  What limited your ability to perform faster: No training/high stress last 2 mos, flu, travel, technical and Third-World trafficked bike course, heat/humidity, and a dogged determination to nevertheless just really enjoy the race and not go fast. Event comments: This is, without comparability and much less equal, the finest triathlon I have ever participated in. You were treated like a rockstar pro from beginning to end, all for the pretty standard Oly race fee of $125. (Hey, did you know it only costs $1000 for a roundtrip ticket, and food and lodging for a week about $400? All this could be yours for $1500, and it will be the most amazing race and holiday beyond your imagination. Oh, and the island activities are phenomenal and unrivalled--mountain climbing, surfing, beach lounging, whitewater rafting, rare cultural experiences, breathtaking temples and art ... it's nearly infinite. Very kid-friendly, too, the race and island and activities). You will be hard pressed to find a more beautiful, memorable, or friendly place on Earth. I would be remiss if I did not include Amanda and Luke's words as well, from Amanda: "The race was run.... in the beautiful waters, on the crazy roads and through an incredible market square with people and food and chickens and trucks. It was quite possibly the most fun one could ever have doing a triathlon. For anyone wanting to do a race in the end of June..... Please come to this event. You will NEVER have a race experience like it. The people of Bali are so special from the pre race bike blessing to the hundreds lining the streets wondering what the hell you are doing but cheering anyways, this is an event like no other." Okay, back to the tri ... the post-race activities included a fun expo and all kinds of the most wonderful food you can imagine. This is just a small corner of it, with cakes and croissants and fruit--there was also fresh juices, protein drinks, and Haagen Dazs!  I kid you not--I kicked Amanda off the massage table and I lay on it in idiot-grinning bliss, eating my ice cream and being rubbed and stretched for HALF AN HOUR by expert hands.  Brennan and Luke enjoying their well-deserved rubdowns:  Here's Amanda and I and the last-place female finisher, whom she spoke with for a good 20 minutes:  Me with a bunch of the Indonesian race staff (no, I didn't notice they were all young and good looking, did you?):  I'll get on this podium yet. Maybe even in my lifetime. Apparently getting your top AG spot is harder than qualifying for Kona, so I'll shoot for that first, ha ha.  What a day! Boston pooped out on my sister's front porch with a bottle of Aussie sports drink a hand. :)  If you've borne with me this far, BLESS YOU. And since you've come all this way anyway ... here are some race-related links definitely worth having a look at. http://www.balitriathlon.com http://www.amandabalding.com/blog.html http://www.lukemckenzie.com/blog.html Last updated: 2008-07-03 12:00 AM
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Indonesia
Generic Events
90F / 32C
Sunny
Overall Rank = 135/144
Age Group = F 30-34
Age Group Rank = 9/10
WARNING/AWAS! THERE HAS BEEN REPEATED SERIOUS DISREGARD FOR ATHLETE SAFETY AND NEEDS ON THIS COURSE IN PRIOR YEARS WHICH HAS NOT BEEN ADDRESSED AND RESULTED IN NUMEROUS ATHLETES INJURED OR UNABLE TO FINISH THE RACE. TAKE CAUTION IN SIGNING UP FOR THIS RACE UNTIL ORGANISERS HAVE PUBLISHED SPECIFIC AND DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT CORRECTING THESE FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEMS.
This was triathlon crossed with surprise ending, Hollywood-style gala, safari, ultra-Survivor MacGyver-esque adventure racing, and tropical paradise. Bear with me on this astonishing journey. At least just scan the photos. You, like I, will be amazed that a triathlon like this even exists.
It was a miracle I got off the ground from L.A. I haven't really trained the last couple months, and had (not really) recovered from flu when I got on the plane. All’s to be gotten for bikes in Bali are rusty old mountain bikes, so I had to take my own. $300 for a bike case?! God bless Cake Boyfriend, who, despite working 12-hr labor days, 7 days a week, made me the world’s most durable bike case. God bless Spokes, who talked him through how to get the pedals off so we could get the bike in the case. And God bless Evan, the Malaysian Airlines check-in rep at the airport, who did not charge me a cent overage for this gigantic clanking piece of luggage.
I arrived Thursday night dead tired. I put some pieces of Chelsea together best I could, then crashed.
Friday morning, it was a mad dash to throw the remaining pieces in the taxi (do we have all of them?) … and it turned out my cabbie had been a bike mechanic! He was so awed by the bike that he was happy to work with it for free (I threw in a gargantuan tip, of course). We still caught the tail end of the bike blessing … this is where competitors are wrapped in sacred sarongs and headpieces, and a Hindu priest makes offerings and blesses you and your bike for the race. If you’d ever seen Balinese traffic, you would not pursue this bike course unblessed!
A wonderful bit about this race is that they have planned activities and parties (all included) around the entire weekend, where the banter is light and you quickly make new friends. Friday morning (which I didn’t do) was a guided bike course tour (by the pros, with police escort), but I did go on the group swim Friday afternoon, led by Brennan (of Generic Events, whom I knew from L.A.) pointing out the course, the transition area, talking and answering questions about the race.
This was the beginnings of the finish arch. Some neighborhood kids had coopted it as goalposts for their beach soccer game.
Friday evening was a beachside/poolside cocktail party with the yummiest Indonesian hors d’oeuvres.
I found Jack Daniels (yes, his real name), the CEO of the title sponsor … and a family friend for the last 35 years who kindly sponsored me in this tri. We had a lengthy conversation, during which he proposed to me my Next Big Step and how to go about starting it, and that he’d be willing to sponsor me for that, too. This has nothing to do with tri, so I won’t include details in this laughably long race report, but I realized, at that moment, that my destiny—not just my next direction in life, but my ultimate destiny—was beginning to unfold. I already knew that this trip—sparked by Jack’s offer to my sister to have me come over and do the tri—would usher in the sea change; I just didn’t expect it to happen at a beautiful cocktail party for a triathlon!
I also spoke with a delightful, relatively unknown Aussie pro named Sophie Hawken who had gotten the worst burn over most of the underside of her upper arm—she’d been on antibiotics, but this wound still looked terrible and infected. She was still planning to race, however, despite that part of your arm rubbing against your body during most of the race.
I also met Agnes, who after a midlife crisis in her 50s, decided to learn how to swim, and then started tri-ing. Within 5 years, she had completed 5 Ironmans, including Kona (which she qualified for), Malaysia (of great interest to me), and Lanzarote (with 3000+ meters of climbing) … so I was a little nervous when she said the bike course here was challenging. It turned out, interestingly enough, that we had met nine months before at a barbecue at my brother’s house. (This is Ag and I later on with our LUCKY race numbers!)
All cameras and videos were popping on Luke McKenzie, who had just won IM Japan, and his girlfriend Amanda Balding, an up-and-coming IM pro who got into tri after two bouts with cancer. Between pops, I sidled on over and played the simpering fan. I hoped for brief introductions and a photo or two. But like everyone else I chatted with, I wound up making new friends. We spent the rest of the party talking—turns out we have mutual friends and live in the same corner of the world. Actually, what brought them laughing to tears were stories about Oceanside and Elvis, and what brought me to tears was that they’d spent all of their luggage allowance and then some bringing tri equipment for Indonesians who didn’t have any. Luke went all the way back to their villa to fetch a card for me and their camera, so they could have pics with me! (Umm, guys, can you e-mail me those shots?)
Luke described the bike course as tough. I exclaimed, “You really don’t need to be telling me that!” He shrugged, and added, “Oh, and watch out for this hill after a sharp left turn. It’s short, maybe 400m or so [GAH!!!], but really steep.” My eyes bugged out. “Wow, like, what grade?” He replied with a pained face, “I don’t know … steeeeep.” (This is Luke and Amanda studying the bike course).
Agnes and I were invited to come along to the organizers/VIP dinner, which was held at a seafood restaurant right on the beach. We jumped into a cab, and—remember there are millions of people and thousands of cabs on Bali—it was my bike cabbie from the morning! At dinner, I sat next to Luke and Amanda and we got to swap more war stories. The string band was awesome—they could play absolutely anything requested, so someone got bold and asked for Santana—and by golly that lead player could do Santana. Well.
The next day, Saturday, was packet pickup, last-minute bike fixing, race briefing, and athlete’s banquet, again right on the beach. This beautiful boy walked in with a day-glo Pinarello, so of course I walked right up and introduced myself—and made another friend. Nobody was snobby in this race—the whole thing was successfully geared as a unifying adventure, especially since nearly everyone had traveled to get there.
I’d forgotten cleaner and lube, so I had the race mechanics clean the bike and all the parts, tune it, do last-minute fitting adjustments with me … which all cost … drum roll … with a giant tip, $2.50. Weep!
The mandatory race briefing was very helpful and included a blow-by-blow of the bike course, with maps. Brennan and Rob, with translators, fielded questions and invited any others to approach them personally after.
The banquet was so beautiful, laid out on circular tables with white linens and silverware and goblets by the beach. The food was sumptuous and plentiful—both Indonesian and Western fare, all included in the race fees.
My sis and I both run late, so together, we wind up being super late. I got to transition a full 15 minutes before starting time!
Good thing this is my 10th tri--I threw my stuff down in loose order, grabbed my cap and goggles and--oh shyte, I need to pump my tyres! Everyone has already gone down to the beach, but the bike mechanics come to my rescue--I literally heaved my bike and money at them, and ask them to rack it for me. These were the quaint racks (taken the night before):
Now that's trust--and they did marvelously (considering I manage to rack my own bike the WRONG DIRECTION every time). I trot down to the beach barefoot and get right into the water to warm up for approximately 20s before the race starts (okay, I got a full 2 min.)
As I'm coming out of the water, Amanda left the pro section to come up and wish me good luck in the race! I walked back with her and spoke briefly with Sophie, who was looking very pale, with her arm extensively bandaged. I asked how the burn was doing. She said it really hurt. I touched her on her other arm and said, "Sophie, it's going to hurt no matter what. You're really tough for even doing this race. Just make everything else hurt worse and the arm won't matter." I don't know if that was terrible advice, but for a brief moment she looked relieved, and I sent her strength-vibes throughout the course whenever I thought of her. She went on to place third.
This was an extremely competitive triathlon. It's a super-tough-course oly distance, it's on a remote island that everyone flew to get on and brought bikes to, so it's not like you're gonna get a bunch of locals who just want to try tri. Luke did not post the fastest run time (both 2nd/3rd finishers did faster), two age groupers (both in my AG, of course) came in ahead of the pros--Amanda didn't even place, and Agnes the KQer/Lanzarote veteran who always comes 1st in her AG (55-59, not known as a particularly fierce lot) came in THIRD, fercryinoutloud. I was just happy to be allowed to play, DFL or no! That said, they left the finish line up, staffed, for SIX HOURS so that Lucien, a friend of ours who had major problems on the bike, could finish.