A cannon shot thundered through Keystone Village at 10:30 AM Sunday morning to signal the pro start. It was also my signal to start warming up in the notoriously frigid duck pond. Wading in, I realized that the feared 58-degree water was in fact much warmer this year, most likely due to the later date and the two-week heat wave we'd had recently. In fact, the water temperature was not bad at all, I thought with relief.
I focused on my goal for today. Everybody has a goal going into a race. Some want to win, others want to finish. For Keystone, mine was somewhere in between - I wanted to get points.
My wife Molly will qualify for the National Championship in Tahoe easily. So will our friends Mark and Lisa. I'm the only one of the four who is struggling in my quest. Only the top 15 in each age group get points in the series, and for me that's not an easy goal. I'm not obsessing over this, mind you, and I have plenty of excuses at the ready: I'm a new at this; I'm not a swimmer; my age group is stacked. But I am having fun with this new sport, and trying to qualify for Tahoe just adds to the challenge.
The pros finished their first trip around the lake, and the race organizers waited for the last swimmer to round the turn before releasing Wave 2, consisting of men 34 and under, myself included. The thrashing, churning mass of arms and legs quickly swallowed the unfortunate pros who happened to be slow swimmers. I sympathized. As a slow swimmer myself, I at least had the opportunity to start at the back of the pack where I belonged.
My main goal for the swim was to stay within myself. At a pre-race clinic with Melanie McQuaid and Josiah Middaugh the day before, we were told how even top swimmers like Kerry Classen were backstroking or even resting on a buoy after 200 meters their first time at Keystone. It's the altitude. At 9300 feet, there's not much oxygen. When your face is in the water for two out of every three seconds, it's even harder to get those O's.
My first lap went ok, despite swimming *under* the dock after rounding the first buoy a little too wide. I tried to draft whenever possible, but found that everyone in front of me was going slower, or
(more often
) faster. I concentrated on swimming long and straight instead.
After completing my second lap without incident, I splashed ashore under the twenty minute mark, a decent time for me. I hadn't gone anaerobic yet, but still could only manage to shuffle, not run, on my way to the transition area. Molly's bike was long gone, I noticed, even though she had started in Wave 3 several minutes after me. The wetsuit came off quickly. I strapped on my helmet, and then sat down to put on socks and shoes. Soon I was pedaling my way towards the big climb, fumbling as I pulled on my bike gloves and buckled my Camelbak strap.
It's been said that the Keystone course is a bike race sandwiched between a swim and run. I was banking on this, as biking has always been more comfortable for me than either of the other tri sports. Molly and I had camped out here two weeks ago to pre-ride the course. The climb was long, but not very technical, we discovered. But the descent was fast and furious, with plenty of rocks, roots, and steep sections to put your skills to the test.
Everyone was talking about Wild Thing, the infamous double-black section of downhill where even the pros admitted getting off their bikes. We found it lived up to its reputation. One section was certainly out of the question for me, and there was a rock drop that I opted to walk as well. However, most of Wild Thing was reasonable, though challenging, mountain biking terrain. I looked forward to racing it.
After a couple minutes of easy riding up the valley, the course turned severely uphill. Jackstraw Road looked like an ant trail from a distance, with what seemed like hundreds of racers crawling slowly upward. It was a regular granny gear festival. The pain was clearly visible in everyones' faces.
I wanted to pass as many people as possible before the wide road choked down to a tight singletrack, but I balanced that need with the greater desire to not destroy myself 25 minutes into the race. I picked off a few racers on the road, then gave a nice little push to get around a couple more just before we hit the Sleepy Hollow trail.
The next hour was a blur. I'd steadily reel in the rider in front of me, then wait for an opportunity to squeak by on the narrow trail. These passing efforts usually sent me anaerobic for a few seconds, so I'd try to recover and then start the whole process again with the next rider. I picked off riders all the way up the mountain, and felt some degree of satisfaction that nobody had passed me during this time. That's one benefit of being a slow swimmer!
On the Let it Ride trail I started catching the lead amateur women. I saw Lara, last year's amateur World Champion, followed closely by another girl I didn't recognize. Only 50 yards ahead of them I caught a glimpse of Molly, grinding it out with her head down.
"You're doing great!" I said as I rode slowly by. "Don't give away any seconds for free. Make them work for it."
"I'm in the lead," she said triumphantly. It was a great confidence builder even though she could see the other girls were gaining on her.
I hit the top at 1:09. Mike Vine would need only two minutes longer than that to complete the entire bike course, as it turned out. At the moment, I was just happy to know I had a huge descent waiting for me.
Assisted by gravity, my bike devoured the trail at a frightening pace. It wanted to fly, and I was just along for the ride. I tried not to think what would happen if I lost traction on a turn and hit a tree. Every so often things would slow down as I'd catch up to another rider, but after a few seconds the rocks and trees were zooming by as fast as ever.
I hit Wild Thing and took a few deep breaths and stretched my fingers. They were cramped from all the braking. For the first time, there were spectators on the bike course, no doubt there to see carnage. I wasn't planning to provide them any, myself. I negotiated the initial "north shore"-style ladder and the steep, rooty switchbacks without a problem. At the toughest section I jumped off my bike as planned, passing another rider in the process. Back on my bike, there were just a few more obstacles and I was home free.
On the final descent down Jackstraw Road I opened it up, not even touching my brakes on the straightaways. Soon I was in T2 dropping my bike gear and heading out on the run.
Talk about a change of pace! I had just spent 23 minutes descending 2300 feet, and now I was plodding along on foot like a Clydesdale. The first of what I feared were many racers ran by me before I even hit the trail. I vowed not to give up without a fight, though. Make that bike section count, I told myself.
The 10k course followed mellow trails through trees on the valley floor before turning around and following the Snake River back to the finish line. There was little climbing, but the hills were short and steep.
For most of the run, I was all by myself. Occasionally I would hear footsteps behind me and I just knew it was someone in my age group. Miraculously, it almost never was. One 30-34 guy ran past on the first hill and quickly disappeared. I knew I had no chance of staying with him. A fleet-footed female pro, Renata Bucher, flew by in the last two miles. She had suffered three flat tires on the bike and was trying to salvage her race. The handful of others who caught me on the run ranged from their 20s to their 50s, but no one else was in my age group.
Suddenly both quads started cramping with every step. At least I'm giving it my all, I thought. In just a few minutes I hit the last aid station and had some Gatorade. Amazingly, the cramps faded and disappeared. I plugged on. I could hear the announcer up ahead, always a good sign. At the creek crossing, I caught and passed another female pro, then gave a feeble kick to the finish.
It felt good to be finished.
I cheered as first Mark, and then Molly crossed the line. Both had solid finishes and sealed their spots at the National Championships. I checked my results - 12th! I had made my goal of top 15 and earned points. It was a good day.
Edited by bock 2005-08-17 1:11 PM
United States
TEAM Unlimited
78F / 26C
Sunny
Overall Rank = 77/262
Age Group = M 30-34
Age Group Rank = 12/47
Pre-rode and pre-ran the course two weeks before the race. On Saturday, the day before, I bought a lift ticket and pre-rode the downhill twice.
Ran 5 minutes, swam 5 minutes.