As I write this, I have little idea of my swim split because the results aren't available yet and I forgot to check my watch (mostly because I was too concerned with all the new things I would be trying in T1 for the first time.) I can tell you, I feel like I smacked it pretty good. In fact, if my navigation had been a little better (I was veering right all the way to the first turn), I'd guess I nailed it.

Especially after the first turn, when I really found my groove, I was passing people who had numbers much lower than me and opportunistically latching onto the feet of slightly faster swimmers. That was no easy feat (no pun intended), considering the murky, muddy waters made visibility almost non-existent.

Once we rounded the second turn buoy and were headed for home, I shifted it up a gear and made a nice final push. Of course, the downside to that was that my HR was near redline exiting the water. I'm beginning to wonder if that may have cost me later.

Swim straight and maybe ease back on the "kick" into shore.

It seemed like deja vu all over again. Last year, one of my transition area neighbors who finished the swim before me through their crap all over my neatly set up area. And when I arrived at my spot this year, I saw the same thing had happened. That threw a big wrench in my plans to speed up my T1 in this event-- I had rubberbanded my shoes in place on the bike and was going to attempt a "flying start" for the first time. Instead I had to waste a precious :20 simply hunting for my bike helmet and glasses.

After locating them, I had to fumble away more time untangling the straps on my new aero helmet before I could put it on and then finally I was off and running with the bike. The "flying start" I was hoping for turned out to be more like a "f@$$%%-ing start" as I struggled to get my bare feet on top of my shoes for the push up the steep incline immediately out of transition. Eventually I got in and got going, but only after some precarious weaving up the hill.

Practice the flying start. Hire an armed guard to protect my transition area from the inconsiderate idiots around my transition spot.

During the swim, I noticed how the water had really turned choppy on the final leg into shore. That could only mean one thing-- wind. On an exposed course like Memphis, I knew then we would be in for a very different day than last year, when it was heat that presented the most formidable challenge. It didn't take long to find out how right I was.

After a brief opening stretch with the wind at our backs, we turned right into open farm country, where nasty crosswinds immediately slowed things down considerably. Where last year, this relatively flat course was easy pickings for a PR, this year the bike would be an ongoing battle with Mother Nature.

However, this year I had two new weapons at my disposal-- my new aero tri bike and my Giro Advantage 2 aero helmet. I could tell they were paying immediate dividends, too. When heading with the wind, I often struggled to keep up up with stronger riders around me. But heading into the wind, I was often able to pass them without additional effort.

Trying to learn from my past mistakes, I also made a concerted effort to keep from hammering and maintain my heartrate within reasonable limits. Still, I pushed into Z3 early and once again it seems I would eventually pay the price. The thing is, my legs felt strong and I didn't feel like I was overexerting. And I sure as heck wasn't flying past the many strong riders in this field. I guess that's just the deadly siren song of triathlon-- you don't know you've gone too hard until it's way too late.

Approaching T2, I easily got out of my shoes and prepared for the running dismount, which I pulled off without a hitch.

I checked my watch: 1:45:00. Not bad. Surely, beating last year's 2:45:00 finish would be relatively easy, right? Surely. Heck, I could run easy 9:30's and still beat it. Yep, it was in the bag.



Really, I don't know. I know if you look at my splits, it's easy to say I hammered too hard on the bike and simply burned out on the run. But I'm not convinced. I think my ankle injury and 5-month layoff from running definitely factored in. Although I did my best to re-build my running over the last 6 weeks, I just think that was too short a period to build up a reasonable base for the run. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

One thing I will try to focus on in the future is riding long, slow distance. That's fallen by the wayside a little bit recently due to time constraints, but it's gonna have to get resurrected now that I can ride outside again.

This went smoothly.

Nothing.

Ah, yes. This is where the "magic" happened. Magic as in "where did my ability to run go?... it's DISAPPEARED!! POOFT!!"

The time tells the tale, doesn't it?... walking the hills, the cramping hamstrings, the children mocking me as I pass, saying, "Mommy, is that limping man going to die?" OK, I made that last part up, but you get the picture.

This "run" was a return to my infamous half-run/half-walk "RAWK" from Spirit of Racine. Although I've never been as completely cashed as this for an Oly before... not even in my first race. It was embarrassing. There were points on this run when I knew I wasn't going to break an hour split that I just thought about DNF'ing just so there would be no record of my pathetic display. The thing is, I would have had to walk back to the finish area anyway, so there was really no point to waiting for the broom wagon.

This was the kind of run that makes me contemplate doing solely AquaBike events from here on out.

I would run next time. Because, you know, that would be faster than whatever you would call what I did.

Let's just sum it up. Was it the 85-degree heat that did me in? I dunno. Was it the wind on the bike? I dunno. At the age of 39, have I finally hit the inevitable downhill slide into suckiness? I dunno. I walk away from this event completely frustrated and confused.

Part of me thinks it's just the fact that, in coming back from this ankle injury, I just haven't had the chance yet to re-build my base to where it needs to be. Part of me thinks it's my bicycling that really needs more attention, as the bike may have taken so much out of me it set me up for a poor run. Part of me thinks I have to completely re-think my nutrition, as I was bloated and belching throughout my RAWK. And part of me thinks "BOWLING-- that's the sport for me!!"

I dunno. Last year, when I had a nearly as sucky a race here, it served as my inspiration to train harder and helped set the stage for a fairly decent season. But I've trained so hard already this off-season, with the exception of my running, that I just don't know where to go from here or whether I have the fire to put in even more time and effort for minimal returns.

I'm trying not to be too down about this race-- it's just one in a season of many. But to finish 16 minutes slower than my last Oly from last year after what I would honestly call a pretty aggressive off-season of training (at least on the bike), it can't help but cause to question my entire approach.

I collapsed and died. The funeral was Sunday. You can send memorials in my honor to the American Society for the Slow and Old (ASSO).


Gravity.


As always, this is a very well-organized, very well-run event. I, on the other hand, did not run very well.