The first half would've been great, if that's all I would've had to do. I went out way too fast and blew up on the return leg. I was concentrating so much on rotating to get a good breath and making my stroke long that I didn't notice that I was probably going at my 100 interval pace (1:40/100). Oops. I hit the turnaround and was left wondering, "Where the heck did I leave my breath? I just had it, but now I can't find it." So the back stretch was a mix of slooooow crawl with about 50 yards of backstroke thrown in. A couple of events warrant mentioning:

At the turnaround buoy, the swimmers made what's essentially a hairpin turn. On the "far side" of the turn was a lifeguard sitting on her surfboard. I was about halfway through the turn when I noticed some congestion. A lot of congestion. Crosstown Commons/I-35W levels of congestion. A swimmer had grabbed hold of the tail of the surfboard (perfectly legal), but had then continued to try to swim (definitely not legal), effectively pulling the surfboard with him. So the gap between the buoy and the surfboard was closed to probably only 8 feet or so. 8 feet that 25 swimmers were trying to get through at the same time. The lifeguard was berating the fellow ("Sir, you CAN NOT swim while holding on to me!"), managed to push his hand off, and did an admirable job of paddling back into position.

50 yards further on, as I was struggling through my breathlessness, an unexpected object loomed out of the greenish waters of Lake Buffalo....a rope. A blue and white nylon rope. Lying right underneath the surface. And also perpendicular to my desired path of travel. WTF?!? I got my hand over it and it slid effortlessly underneath me. Until it found the timing chip on my ankle. I had no intention of pulling this rope along with me, so I turned over to shake it free, but it kind of flopped over my foot into a loose loop. I then saw the rope was in use by a lifeguard in the process of rescuing a struggling swimmer (the rope ran off to a pontoon boat about 10 yards off to the side of the course). I could see he had his hands full, and didn't want to trouble him with having to save me, too, so I did the honorable thing and just pulled the rope off my foot and continued on my merry (breathless) way.


Pacing. This year, I was completely comfortable with the waves and the contact, but I just pushed too hard too early.

Last year's time/pace: 10:49 / 2:42

"...and I shall make their tormented souls run. Under the blazing sun! For a long distance! Up many hills! And they shall all be clad in neoprene! Muhahahahaha!!!!"
- Lucifer, in a planning meeting with his minions, prior to the grand opening of the Second Level of Hell

I think that about sums up the first part of T1 without requiring any more elaborate explanations, don't ya think?

After emerging from seemingly eternal damnation and arriving at the rack, I stripped off the wetsuit fairly quickly with a little trouble getting it over the timing chip. Damn that chip! First it tried to drown me and now it tried throwing me off balance. That little one-ounce strip of nylon and plastic was quickly turning into my nemesis - what other nefarious plans did it have in store for me?

Not easily foiled, I threw on my helmet and sunglasses, tucked some gel in my pockets and headed for the bike exit...

Pray more?

Last year's time: 4:58

...I crossed the mat signaling the end of T1, and the bike leg began. "But wait!", the careful readers amongst you will cry out, "don't you have to get on your bike first?" Alas, I have to get up pretty early to put one past you.

My shoes were already clipped into the pedals, so I just needed to jump on and get my feet into the shoes before The Hill. About 40 yards past the mount line, the road (a parking lot entrance, actually) tilts up quickly. Woe be to those unable to get clipped in, or who haven't left their bike in its lowest gear. The gift of foresight has at least allowed me to do the latter. As to the former, well....my left foot went in easy, but when I tried putting in my right foot, it instead went between the strap and the outsole, leaving me with no pedaling power on the right side. And while my left foot was in its shoe, I hadn't velcroed down its strap yet, so it wasn't going to be a very effective one-footed pedaler if I needed it to be. I pulled the right foot out and tried again as The Hill got closer. Same result! My speed was dropping quickly and I knew I had one more chance before I stalled out and fell ignominiously in front of hundreds of spectators. Time seemed to slow as I stabbed my right foot down and somehow found the proper resting place - I stood out of the saddle and had just enough momentum to push over the top of The Hill and move onto the bike course. Of course, during all my fancy footwork, I had completely deformed the insole in my right shoe, and it was folded up under my heel. And there it remained for the rest of the ride.

Ah yes, the ride. It's interesting (or not): as Crystal and I were leaving to go home at the end of the day, we headed out of town on the same road that the bike course begins. As I was driving along, I was looking at the landmarks and honestly couldn't remember seeing ANY of it while on the bike. Not a thing. It's like I was completely blacked out while on that section of road. The stop sign? Nope. All those houses? Never saw 'em. How 'bout the golf course? Hey, look, there's a golf course! Was that there before?

Once I regained consciousness, I ate an Enervit gel and focused on keeping my cadence up, especially on the numerous hills. 100 rpm felt pretty good to me, so I tried to keep it around there.

During last year's race, I recall the ride being mostly a long single file line of riders. This year it felt like riding in the peloton at the Tour de France. Most of the time it seemed like we were two or three abreast, waiting for the opportunity to pass large groups of people.

The wind coming off the lake over the last couple of miles felt really tough. If that wind had been blowing an hour earlier, the swim would've been a whole lot worse, as the lake really seemed to be churned up.

The last third mile of the ride was uphill, so there wasn't a good opportunity to stand up and stretch my calves and hammies - I should've done it earlier. As the top of the hill approached, I became more concerned with getting my feet out of my shoes before dropping back down The Hill to the dismount line. Given the whole shoe drama at the beginning of the ride, the de-shoeing process was entirely uneventful. So uneventful that it's not even worth mentioning. So just forget that I ever brought it up. Move along, there's nothing to see here...


Do some more tweaking of my position on the bike. Ride more.

Last year's time/pace: 42:50/18.2 mph

Yet again, I apparently blacked out here 'cuz I don't remember anything from the point where I jumped off the bike until leaving T2 on the run...

Take some pictures to help me recall what the heck I did.

Last year's time: 2:43

Pain set in immediately as a bugger of a side stitch hit me within the first 200 yards. Since I never get them when training, I'm wasn't really prepared to deal with this one, so I let it have its way with me. It subsided by the 1-mile mark, but it left behind a bitchy little stomach cramp that tagged along the rest of the race. Not sure the cause of this cramp: I didn't drink anything over the last 5 miles of the bike, because if I do it just sloshes around in my belly during the run.

I do like this run course because its location allows you to see a lot of friends as they come in on the bike course, or as they pass you on the run going the other direction. I spotted my wife and gave her a shout; I saw Pete and gave him a thumbs-up; I saw Ben and inexplicably yelled out "Go Pete"; and then I saw Tom (matchman on BT) and yelled out something completely unintelligible. It was obvious that my brain had been left behind in transition so I decided to just shut up the rest of the race.

I tried ignoring the cramp and finally settled into a decent rhythm by the turnaround. I had hoped to break 24 minutes, but the headwind coming back put the kibosh on that dream. The finishing stretch felt really good, and I even had the werewithal to remember to zip up my tri-top and rotate my race number around to my front.


More training bricks to figure out proper nutrition/hydration.

Last year's time/pace: 26:07/8:43

Bottle of H20, bottle of Powerade. Walked down to the lake and waded in - oh, that felt good!


I was completely happy with my race. My conservative goal was 5 minutes faster than last year's time (1:27:25), so I easily met that goal. And the best part is that I still see plenty of room for improvement.