USAT Nationals Day 4 -- Race!

August 9, 2014--Milwaukee, WI, 6:44am

Conditions were excellent for starting the race. The water temperature was pleasant, and the first two waves had gone off without a hitch. Wave 3 contained all the men 60+, somewhere around 150 guys. I was the only dude in the wave who was not wearing a wetsuit. I took a position toward the middle of the dock, and tried to maneuver to where there wouldn't be too many people in front of me.

I obviously mismanaged my positioning. Too many guys cheated forward and moved in front of me right before the gun went off. Hover your mouse over the image to highlight my position.



I wish I'd have had a spectator perspective to understand how poor my position actually was...but from in the water, it didn't seem all that likely I'd be blocked in. I was operating under the assumption that there was enough space, and I was fast enough to break free of any clogging fairly quickly. I figured that the slower swimmers would concede positions to us faster guys and then would try to draft if they could. Based on what actually happened, I would have to conclude that I was the only person in the field who thought that courtesy and traffic management were items worthy of any consideration at all.

I was inundated by hordes of wetsuited maniacs from the moment the horn sounded.



The cool thing about not having a wetsuit is that I could actually find myself in the photos. Tanner did a pretty good job behind the lens.



The pack did eventually begin to spread out, but for some reason, I was unable to find any clear water. No matter which direction I tried to go, I seemed to find myself wedged in among guys who thought they were in a kung fu fight rather than an open water swim. One guy grabbed my suit, another held my leg for a while, and I took several elbows as I tried to escape the mob.



I had expected to be among the leaders shortly after the start, but because of my poor positioning still had a whole bunch of folks to get around. (Again, hover your mouse to highlight my location.)



This next pictures shows the retaining wall that isolated our swim venue from the main body of Lake Michigan.



Here's another "mouseover" view of where I was within the pack during the first third of the race.



It is a gorgeous place to swim, though, isn't it?



Even though things were loosening up in the overall picture, I was still stuck. (Mouseover.)



Here's the closeup:



Seriously, guys, could you just swim in a straight line for a bit and stop this insane cloggery? Geez.

Anyway, to the right side of this picture, you can see the footbridge we had to swim under. After that, the course took a large clockwise loop around the enclosure to the exit just to the right of that same footbridge.



This is the view from the other side of the footbridge. We stayed to the left (outside) of the buoys and looped back around, eventually finishing the swim pretty close to the rock wall you can see to the right side of the picture.





Eventually, though, I did find some space and managed to pass a few of the guys from my heat..and then swim through a few of the stragglers from the previous two heats. (I'm the guy in the white cap in the center of this photo. (Click to embiggen.) The green caps were from the second wave, and the blue caps had started in the first wave.) This picture is probably 50 yards from the swim finish.



The exit ramp was very steep, but they had people stationed there to help pull us up the slope. I learned later that I was ninth out of the water in my age group, which was not at all where I had expected to be. But thanks to Tanner's photos, I definitely understand why I finished so far back. Considering the number of guys who were ahead of me when we got to the footbridge, I now feel OK with that position.

After the ramp, there was a LONG run up the sidewalk to the distant transition area. Because I have tender tootsies and knew that I'd be very tentative if I tried to run in bare feet, I had placed a pair of running shoes near the swim ramp. It took me less than 10 seconds to slip them on, and then I could run along the concrete without worrying about my feet. I probably passed another 10 people on the way to transition.



I'm sure I gave it ALL back (and more) when I struggled to slip on my toe socks. Yeah, I know that most triathletes go sockless on the bike ride so they don't have to deal with the challenges of socking-up over wet feet. But I didn't want to worry about blisters or anything, and had not conditioned myself for barefoot riding.

I pulled on my jersey/helmet and slathered on some sunscreen, and even put on my running bib number strap. (I didn't want to forget it, as I had done at my previous triathlon.) I drank some water, grabbed the bike, and jogged toward the transition exit, which was about 3000 bikes away. I probably got passed by several more athletes who outran me to the bike mounting point.



As you can see, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and everything was gorgeous. I could tell that it was going to get hot...but at this point, I was still reasonably comfortable and enjoying the exciting race atmosphere.



The bike course was fantastic! Wide roads that were completely closed to traffic, and only a couple of turns or bumps; there was nothing to do but spin the pedals and think about fueling to avoid bonking during the run. There were cheering spectators lining the entire course, and plenty of course marshals to keep us on track.



I had planned to attend the previous day's course overview and rules briefing, but wasn't able to make it due to the schedule for putting the bike into the transition area. I would've benefitted from that briefing.

Almost everyone was faster than me, so I tried to stay out of their way. But very early in the ride, I was emphatically informed that the rules require all passes to be on the left...so my "courteous" attempt to veer to the left to allow one of the fast folks to go by was actually a form of blocking, and subject to a time penalty if reported. I wish I had known that earlier...but once educated, I made sure to stay over toward the right-hand gutter.

It's obvious that the majority of my inadequacy on the bike is due to lack of training and questionable fitness. At the same time, I couldn't help but notice that almost all the other competitors were riding machines that were far more technologically advanced than mine. I tried to lean down into an aerodynamic riding position as much as I could, but it's hard to do on standard drop handlebars. And my Wright Brothers-era wheels certainly don't make that swish swish sound that I heard as the wind-tunnel wheel guys glided past me. Pointy helmets, carbon shoes, and sculpted airslip frames are a few of the other technologies that everyone but me seemed to have. Oh well.



I suspect that parts of the bike course offered spectacular views of the lake and the downtown area. I know that we went over at least one very large bridge. But other than watching the road and trying to remain aware of the other bikers, I really didn't take advantage of the opportunity for tourism. I couldn't tell you anything at all about the course, other than the fact that it wasn't very hilly and it went through various neighborhoods. And from a racing standpoint, all I know is that a whole bunch of spandex-clad people with impressive calves went by me like I was standing still.

I did participate in one small duel over about 10 miles of the course. Some old guy (probably about my age) passed me...and then I passed him back a few minutes later. This scenario repeated itself numerous times. I think my speed was pretty steady; I'm not sure why he was speeding up and slowing down the way he was. But with about a mile to go before transition, I finally passed him for good.

I had eaten a bunch of energy chews during the last half of the bike ride, even though I wasn't at all hungry. But I was hoping the calories would come in handy during the run. I still had half-eaten gummies in my mouth when I arrived at the bike dismount.

My bike-to-run transition wasn't that bad. But as I started to run for the transition area exit, I realized that my legs were not responding very well. It occurred to me that I really should've practiced going from the bike to the run at some point during my training. Running on stiff and numb table legs was a completely foreign feeling, and the flowing run pace I had hoped to experience simply never materialized.

I did loosen up a bit after about a mile. But that was about when I recognized how incredibly warm it was. Any benefit I received from getting loose was contradicted by my reaction to the heat. After 2 miles, I was tired and hot and disgusted with myself -- ready to be finished with the whole ordeal.

Were hundreds of people passing me? Why, yes...yes they were. Did I feel compelled to stop at each and every aid station and pour water on myself while I drank Gatorade? Yes I did. Did I finally break through my fatigue and experience a second wind that drove me to the finish line with an impressive burst of speed. No, unfortunately, that did NOT happen. I was trying as hard as I could, but my speed continued to fade.

Did I mention that it was HOT? I felt like the energy chews I'd had on the bike were threatening to come back up, and that my feet were in danger of spontaneous combustion. I knew that I needed some positive self talk, and tried to get myself to repeat "We've got this. Time to pick it up!" But instead, it came out as "I really shoulda trained for this." My inner Apollo Creed was saying "ain't gonna be no rematch!"

But I did manage to cross the finish line running, in a total time of 2:47:05 (80th out of 108 in my age group). I must've looked pretty bad, because the medical folks immediately rushed over to offer their help.

I said "I'm fine. I just need to sit down for a bit." He looked at me and said "No, I think you'd better walk a bit more," and he guided me through the rest of the finish chute until he was convinced that I really wasn't delirious or about to collapse.

I did sit down for a while, though. Tanner was there, and didn't protest my desire to just relax for a bit. But you can tell from my tilted spinal angle that I did have some issues to deal with.

I was smiling, though.



I drank a bottle of water and walked around a bit more, and was feeling fine within another few minutes. I found the important post-race facilities, and felt better and better as time went on.



They did provide a lunch for the athletes, but I found that I wasn't in the mood for it...so Tanner and I found a table on the Discovery World patio and gave him a chance to eat his first food of the day.



As we sat there, I watched the poor folks who had started in the later heats. There were still quite a few people heading out onto the run course, which was now suffering the FULL wrath of the sun's heat. I felt sorry for them, but as I looked out across the running trail, I realized what a beautiful racecourse it was. Nice views, cool buildings, and a lovely park were all available for the enjoyment of the participants...but I had noticed none of it.

I don't know whether that's an indicator of my intense race focus, or whether I'm just clueless. What do you think? Do you notice the race course when you're competing? Or do you just keep your head down and put one foot in front of the other? I one way better than the other in terms of achieving good results? I'd appreciate some feedback.

Anyway, I once again must thank you for your patience in waiting for this report. I hope to get back on a more regular writing schedule. The next few posts will finish the discussion of the Milwaukee trip (including a visit to the Badlands and the famous Wall Drug), as well as a review of the Desert's Edge Triathlon -- which I entered in hopes of qualifying for 2015 Nationals so I could go back to Milwaukee and suck less. Though my Nationals time was right around what I thought was my best-case target for my current level of conditioning, I was disappointed in my slow swim and in my survival-mode run. I know I can do better.

Even so, I have to say that I am glad I was a part of the event. And I want to thank you all for supporting me and inspiring me. It had been a while since I had competed at a National-level event, and I needed this reminder of how much I get out of doing things like that. Trust me, this story shall continue, and I hope you'll join me in its pursuit.

Have a great day!

Interlude (Featuring More Cowbell)

My college degree is from the William Allen White School of Journalism at the University of Kansas. This is a highly respected educational institution, famed for producing a host of quality contributors to the Fourth Estate.

But something obviously went wrong during my matriculation. My recent blogatory intent was to use my awesome journalism skillz to document and describe the intimate details of the USAT Nationals racing experience. As is obvious at this point, the "timely reporting" aspect of the journalist's toolbox has failed to make an appearance. I may still be able to get away with some sort of "historian" or "anthropologist" label, but the title of "intrepid reporter" has long since left the building.

Oh sure, I have excuses: Camera-files-to-hard-drive organizational problems, social obligations, cruel whip-cracking employer, inability to resist spaghetti westerns on TV (or their namesake pasta at the dinnertable), etc. But I haven't given up -- those race reports ARE coming. Just not today.

What I have for you instead is a brief description of the goodies I received as a result of participating in the Desert's Edge Triathlon a couple of weeks ago. I signed up for this event in hopes of being able to qualify for the 2015 USAT Nationals. That complete story, too, will have to wait. But I will say that it was a lovely venue and a well-run race. And they handed out cool stuff. The cowbell pictured above was the finisher award, and is fully functional noisemaker that I don't expect to ever use.

My age-group place award was even more aesthetically appealing, but is also likely to be given away rather than being affixed to the wall inside my apartment. It's a lovely gecko key-holder made from sheet copper. I like it a lot...but have no place to hang it in my apartment.



I think it'll make a good birthday present for Tanner. He never knows where his keys are.

Anyway, I did want to assure you that I fully intend to finish my race report from Milwaukee. And I will also share my race observations from Desert's Edge as well. For now, though, these photos are all you get. Please keep checking back just in case my education actually does assert itself.

Enjoy the equinox, and have a great day!

USAT Nationals Day 3 -- Warm Up

Sorry for the egregious interval betwixt my last entry and this one. My life has been seriously full lately. It's mostly good stuff, including social activities (with a real live female, believe it or not!), interesting work at the office, and swim lessons a-plenty. I am blessed to have so many good things happening to me...but you know me -- I'll still complain because the stupid Lottery has not yet seen fit to provide the resources I need to live the life of leisure for which I was placed upon this earth. Oh well.

I had also intended to finish describing this trip before I competed in my next race, but alas, I didn't get it done. The Desert's Edge Triathlon (near Fruita, Colorado) took place this weekend, and I was there to partake in all its wonders (sweltering heat, inattentive course marshals, and dusty trails that almost certainly boasted gila monsters, rattlesnakes, and scorpions lurking behind the sagebrush, etc.) That story will follow the completion of the current saga. Please stay tuned.

Anyway...Onward with the story of USAT Nationals:

My arrival in Milwaukee occurred on Day 2, and checking into the motel was the only event worth noting. It was a nice room, but one thing puzzled me. The door to the bathroom had a notch in it at the height that would indicate it was once hung elsewhere. The notch corresponded with the "security bar" height on the room's main door. I just found it odd that a door that had once nobly served as a partition between a weary traveler and the pedestrian hall outside had somehow been relegated to lowly bathroom duty. (By the way, if you are interested in any of the photos posted here today, you may simply click on one to embiggen it.)



Hotel soap also puzzles me. While the majority of the packaging industry long ago developed perforations, notches, and various user-friendly glues to aid the consumer in easily accessing the enclosed product, it seems that the hotel soap industry has opted for borrowing hermitic sealing strategies from NASA and the CIA. It seems impossible to open the soap packet without explosives, laser weapons, and a kung-fu grip. But I wanted to take a shower, so I had to try.

Fortunately, I have bulging muscles and badger-like determination. By twisting, biting, yanking, and nearly enherniating myself, I was finally able to cause the soap package to burst.

Unfortunately, the sudden and violent decomposition of the package launched the soap disc across the bathroom...and right into the toilet.

No, I did not retrieve it. But did manage a shower despite the soapcake setback, and was able to get a good night's sleep.

The next day was all about getting checked in and ready for the race. I got it started with a good breakfast -- the hotel provided an all-you-can-eat breakfast burrito buffet, and everything was delicious!

But that brings up another frustration, which I will blame on the hotels...but is really the fault of my aging and slowing metabolism. There was a time in my life when an all-you-can eat buffet was one of those cherished gems that added sunshine and joy to my life whenever they appeared. I've never been particularly discriminating in my culinary tastes; one of my favorite AYCE opportunities is the Deluxe Dinner at Casa Bonita.

When I was on Wichita Swim Club, the local Pizza Hut made the mistake of offering an unlimited pizza night right after practice. Our group of famished teenage swimmers promptly caused them to reassess that idea when they couldn't even bake them fast enough to keep up with us. They definitely lost money on that deal.

We were kicked out and banned from the store. The manager said it was because Roger Neugent started a fire by holding a napkin over a candle...but I think it was because we ate too much.

Anyway, I still love to eat until I'm stuffed. (I'm sure it's because my mother told me that gorging myself would somehow benefit the starving heathens in India -- and I truly wanted to help out the best I could.) The problem is that I no longer posses my teenage metabolism nor cholesterol numbers. Eating more than one breakfast burrito or Belgian waffle would exacerbate my already grotesque obesity, so I am forced to shun the treats that I feel my extravagant payment to the hotel entitles me to.

You have no idea how hard it is to walk away from free food when there's still room for more. But an athlete needs to think in terms of fuel requirements vs. weight carried. F = MA, and all that.

So, I asked my cell phone for directions to the race site, and headed over to get checked in. I spotted my friends Kevin and Paige, and chatted with them as we waited for the swim venue to open up for practice.



Not only are they an adorable couple, but they're both outstanding athletes who share their knowledge and passion with others at all times.

Kevin made a pretty good case for how comfortable and beneficial his wetsuit was, but with the race the next morning and no money in my checking account, I remained committed to racing sans neoprene.

The swim venue was gorgeous, starting from Discovery World and swimming under the footbridge pictured here, then doing a loop around the buoys. The water felt great!



The exit ramp was steep and slick, but its white surface would be easy to sight on during the race. The sidewalk connecting the swim ramp to the transition area was LONG (and made of concrete), so I decided that I would try to cache a pair of shoes somewhere near the swim ramp right before the race.



After I swam enough to feel completely comfortable with the course layout, I texted my friend Carrie and we figure out where to meet.

We took the obligatory photos posing by the blood fountain in front of the finish line arch. (My guess was that the color symbolized the agony and effort experienced by the racers, but never found confirmation of this speculation.)

Both our bikes were locked to the rack on the back of my car, which was in the parking garage a couple of blocks away. We walked over and picked up the bikes and transition gear.



With 3000 athletes competing, the transition area was pretty big. For some reason, though, Carrie and I had our designated bike slots about 6 feet away from each other.



I hung my bike on the rack and figured out how to arrange my other gear for transition. After that, Carrie and I spent a little time roaming through the vendor booths, and I bought a nice wicking cap with the USAT logo on it. (When I finally looked through my race packet that evening, I found that they had included the same hat in our swag bag. Oh well...now I have two USAT hats.)

My evening was uneventful. I got some dinner and got in bed early, knowing that I wouldn't get a full night's sleep. Tanner's plane was supposed to get in after 11pm. I was sleeping soundly when that hour came and went.

Day 4 began at about 12:45am, when Tanner arrived. His flight had landed sometime shortly before midnight, and he was able to locate the hotel shuttle without trouble or cost. Of course, the scheduling was not ideal -- as we needed to arise at approximately 5:30am to get down to the race course.



It was a beautiful morning! And I love the energy you feel when surrounded by athletes waiting for a race to begin. I did notice that I was the only guy there without a wetsuit, and was probably the fattest person in the entire event.

Or maybe the wetsuits just made everybody else look skinnier. Tanner took the camera and did an excellent job responding to whatever requests I made...even though it was about 6 hours earlier than he would normally get out of bed.

The swim would start along the long dock beside Discovery World. They finally called our heat to warm up, and I took my dramatic leap into the water.



They started the first wave while my heat was warming up. But it didn't seem like much time at all passed before they called us over into the starting area. I positioned myself in a spot near the middle of the dock, up toward the front of the line. It didn't seem that crowded.



Our next installment will cover the race itself. Thanks for your patience with the slow pace of these postings; I hope you'll come back to get my perspective on competing against the nation's finest.

Have a great day!