Guerneville, California United States Vineman Inc 85F / 29C Sunny

Total Time = 8h 05m 52s Overall Rank = 38/65 Age Group = 30 - 39 Age Group Rank = 4/7

Vineman Aquabike. In my mind, like the unleaded, decaffienated and non-alchaholic, watered down version of Full Vineman. Swim 2.4 miles, ride 112 miles and then sit back and thank effing god that you are not with those other guys tring to trudge your way through a 26.2 mile run.....

What makes me think I'm ready for an iron distance event of any kind? I have at least one dream per night, every night for the last four weeks..... about not finishing this race, or being late for the start or, get this, getting shot at with sprearguns by my father during the swim just to "toughen me up" for the actual event...... Insane. That's the word that keeps coming into my head. This. Vineman, albeit Aquabike, but still, Vineman, me, insane. Swim 2.4, ride 112, on the precise one year anniversary of my first ever triathlon, insane. Right. A scant sixteen months ago I was a nacho cheese dorito, pizza, and beer quaffing couch dweller who could barely fathom the thought of walking out to the car to get another bag of chips and now I dare to toe the starting line with Ironmen? To say I am a victim of self doubt would be a vast understatement.

Nonetheless, we're going. Spare no expense this time. We're flying up to Northern California. Peedra has been no end of patient with me as I crammed the entirety of my training for this into the six weeks prior. Whereas I would have been just as happy staying at at a Travelodge, I booked a room at a bed and breakfast and even scheduled some time for Peedra at the local spa so she had something to do during the race. Very patient with me, her. My training for this, and believe me I had a LOOONG way to go, peaked at over 20 hours per week. Its as if i haven't seen her at all in the last six weeks.

Flying up, dilemma #1. Get the bike there. Sh*t. Take the bike apart and put it in a bike duffle bag that I borrowed form a friend. This presents a minor point of stress. I need to take apart things I have never taken apart before. I can't help but repeatedly play back a scene from a kitschy 80's "B" movie wherein Michael J Fox has his car repaired and the mechanic hands him the keys to his car and a bag containing all the "leftover parts". Good. Now in addition to all of my other megrims, I have dreams now about my bike not going back together correctly.

We fly up, Southwest, uneventful, save for the part where I watch the baggage handlers fairly hurl the duffle bag containing my bike onto the conveyer belt and into the plane. (I really, really hope that shattering glass sound I heard when my bag hit the belt was my imagination). Rent a car, uneventful. Drive to Forestville, to Case Ranch Inn, uneventful (nice place. I recommend it to anyone who participates in Vineman. Its halfway between the race start and race finish and the inn keeper, Diana, great lady. Sympathetic to the needs of Vineman competitors too...) Upon our arrival, I may have grunted a few words to Peedra and the inn keeper but then went immediately to survey the damage to my bike and attempt to rebuild it.

About an hour later, mission accomplished. Zero spare parts. The bike came out of the bag in the same amount of pieces that it went in evidently.

The day before the race (did I mention Peedra's patience with me?) I swam every yard of the course in the Russian River and drove every inch of the bike route. This took virtually all day.

As a side note, what a wonderfully pleasant swim course this is in the Russian River. Shallow, calm, no current. No pirhanas. No crocodiles. No seamonsters of any kind. Wonderful swim underscored by the knowledge that if you so choose to stand up at any point, the water is likely only waist deep, if even that. I know, i know, water depth makes no difference at all, of course i know. Nonetheless, if this is your first full iron distance open water swim, the knowledge that you are swimming in about 36 inches of water average is a HUGE confidence builder, even if you never do stop.

The package pickup and check-in the day before the race was fine. The pre-race meeting was fine and well organized. All of this is as should be expected from a race that is in its 18th or so year of existence. Lots and lots of practice and it shows. Good. Well organized, clean and efficient.

During the race briefing it was announced that wetsuits would be allowed. Phew, thank god. The water temps in the days leading to the race were flirting with the 78% no wetsuits limit. I was hoping wetsuits would be allowed....... wait... I think....kinda. After all, had I not trained without a wetsuit? What happens if I wear my wetsuit and I get tired sooner from the increased resistence.... wait, what if I can't wear a wetsuit and thus gain no additional floatation advantage... I can't even make up my mind which direction to focus my own self doubt.... dammit!

I am no end of apprehensive about my ability to complete the swim. I've never swam this distance in open water before.

Race day, we wake up late, drive the short distance to the race start. I rack and prepare just in time for the race start.



None. Not really. Just in time delivery of this angst ridden triathlete to transition area and swim start as it turns out.