Race Report: Lake Saint Louis Triathlon
August 22, 2009
It was only my second triathlon of the season, and possibly my last. It was also potentially my last dance in the 35-39 age group. The less racing I do, the more unsure I am of my fitness, endurance, and speed. Training is one thing, and I’m fairly consistent in that regard, but can I take it up a notch and be competitive on race day? I was anxious to find out the answer over the 1500 meter swim, 40K bike, and 10K run. Could I match my time from last year? Could I defend my age group win? Or should I just hope for a respectable time, knowing that as every year passes there are more demands on my time and energy and other worthy priorities to focus on?
I imagine myself walking down a long hallway with doors to offices on my left and right. At the end of the hall is a door that I’m trying to get to. Beyond that door is a goal, a race, a performance. Getting to that door takes work and preparation. If and when I get to that door then I know I’ve given myself a chance to do something special and achieve that rewarding feeling of accomplishment. But as I walk down the hall, the doors to my left and right keep opening and there are people or projects or paperwork calling out my name, asking for my attention. They are all worthy diversions to that straight walk to the door at the end of the hall. I am ducking into side doors, talking to co-workers, doing work, seeing family and friends, fixing things -- basically managing day to day life as well as enjoying the things in life unrelated to what’s behind that door at the end of the hall. This is the life of a triathlete – balance the side doors with the end door. I keep moving towards the end door, but I try not to neglect, compromise, or resent the sides – they are all part of who I am and are integral to whether I make it to the end door. When they call, I try to answer. A hallway with no side doors is not the balanced life I aim to live.
Ideal conditions. How often do you get to say that on race morning? There was no denying that the 700+ racers had lucked out with the water temperature (wetsuit legal), partly sunny skies, cool temperature (for August in St. Louis), and relatively light wind. I reminded myself that I was lucky to be healthy and feeling good and that in itself is a victory. I told myself, “the best you can do is the best you can do.”
Unlike the usual last minute scrambling, I got a nice bike rack position and had plenty of time to get set up and ready. Wife of Activeness (WOA) Jamie and I headed down to the swim start at the edge of the lake. I had some waiting to do since several waves of racers would start before me and my silver-capped comrades in the 35-39 age group got the go ahead. Jamie was not able to race due to injury, but gave me her unconditional support as always (Activated!).
The swim start felt great. The water was calm and there weren’t too many of us swimming on top of each other (the complete opposite of Kansas 70.3 in June which was referred to as a “bloodbath” by one of the guys in my wave). I was secretly confident in my swimming as I had seen my splits at the pool come down over the last few months. That didn’t always translate on race day, so I just kept at it and hoped for the best. Soon there were all different color caps around me. I was catching the groups ahead and the fastest swimmers in the group behind were also showing up. I made it to the lake shore and felt good and saw that I had improved from the prior year by about 18 seconds. Right on!
The uphill run into transition and difficult wetsuit removal had my heartrate soaring, but I was soon on the bike and getting settled into the cockpit. The bike felt good and there was good action to keep me motivated and trying to pass people. I played leapfrog with Greg S for about 10 miles, until finally pulling away near the turnaround. The turnaround involved a tight 180 where I had to put a foot down to avoid capsizing. As I got back onto the pedals, I apologized to the guy that I had cut off and he wished me well as I continued past him (Activated!). I came up alongside a racer as I was switching gears, and he looked over and asked “Are you going for it?” His question caught me off guard and all I could think to say was, “We’ll see!” (I deactivate myself for the lame response.) I climbed the final hill and jumped off the bike shoes and ran to the rack where I proceeded to knock over my water bottles which sent the Gatorade flowing all over the place as the lid broke. Nevermind. My bike split ended up 10 seconds faster than last year. Cool. Visor, shoes, racebelt, GU, and go.
Around the first turn out of transition and down the hill past a smiling and waving Jamie, I peeked at my watch and calculated a similar elapsed time as last year. The early rolling hills had me breathing hard and I didn’t find a rhythm until mile 2 or 3.
The temperature was great, I felt good and thought I was moving pretty well. I had not taken any non-liquid nutrition and was not feeling low on energy. I stuck with water at the aid stations and kept pushing. There were a few faster runners throughout the 10K that made me try to up my pace, but for the most part, I stuck with my own tempo which felt hard, but doable. As I approached the finish area, I could see there was a chance I could best my time from last year. I picked up the pace and raced up the hill, running past a cheering Jamie on the final turn and getting across the finish line with a time that was 7 seconds faster overall than last year. The run was actually slower by 31 seconds, but in retrospect I wasn’t surprised due to my run training as of late.
Beating my time from last year was a good feeling. Maintaining my overall place (13th) was also pleasing. So dropping to 5th in my age group was no big deal and allowed us to leave early and not have to wait for the awards. Win-win.
If this was my last dance in the 35-39 age group, it was a nice way to wrap up 5 years of good racing memories and competitive challenges.
I really appreciate everyone’s support again this season – volunteers, athletes, training partners, spectators, wife, family, friends, and co-workers. Mass Activation.
JPD
It was only my second triathlon of the season, and possibly my last. It was also potentially my last dance in the 35-39 age group. The less racing I do, the more unsure I am of my fitness, endurance, and speed. Training is one thing, and I’m fairly consistent in that regard, but can I take it up a notch and be competitive on race day? I was anxious to find out the answer over the 1500 meter swim, 40K bike, and 10K run. Could I match my time from last year? Could I defend my age group win? Or should I just hope for a respectable time, knowing that as every year passes there are more demands on my time and energy and other worthy priorities to focus on?
I imagine myself walking down a long hallway with doors to offices on my left and right. At the end of the hall is a door that I’m trying to get to. Beyond that door is a goal, a race, a performance. Getting to that door takes work and preparation. If and when I get to that door then I know I’ve given myself a chance to do something special and achieve that rewarding feeling of accomplishment. But as I walk down the hall, the doors to my left and right keep opening and there are people or projects or paperwork calling out my name, asking for my attention. They are all worthy diversions to that straight walk to the door at the end of the hall. I am ducking into side doors, talking to co-workers, doing work, seeing family and friends, fixing things -- basically managing day to day life as well as enjoying the things in life unrelated to what’s behind that door at the end of the hall. This is the life of a triathlete – balance the side doors with the end door. I keep moving towards the end door, but I try not to neglect, compromise, or resent the sides – they are all part of who I am and are integral to whether I make it to the end door. When they call, I try to answer. A hallway with no side doors is not the balanced life I aim to live.
Ideal conditions. How often do you get to say that on race morning? There was no denying that the 700+ racers had lucked out with the water temperature (wetsuit legal), partly sunny skies, cool temperature (for August in St. Louis), and relatively light wind. I reminded myself that I was lucky to be healthy and feeling good and that in itself is a victory. I told myself, “the best you can do is the best you can do.”
Unlike the usual last minute scrambling, I got a nice bike rack position and had plenty of time to get set up and ready. Wife of Activeness (WOA) Jamie and I headed down to the swim start at the edge of the lake. I had some waiting to do since several waves of racers would start before me and my silver-capped comrades in the 35-39 age group got the go ahead. Jamie was not able to race due to injury, but gave me her unconditional support as always (Activated!).
The swim start felt great. The water was calm and there weren’t too many of us swimming on top of each other (the complete opposite of Kansas 70.3 in June which was referred to as a “bloodbath” by one of the guys in my wave). I was secretly confident in my swimming as I had seen my splits at the pool come down over the last few months. That didn’t always translate on race day, so I just kept at it and hoped for the best. Soon there were all different color caps around me. I was catching the groups ahead and the fastest swimmers in the group behind were also showing up. I made it to the lake shore and felt good and saw that I had improved from the prior year by about 18 seconds. Right on!
The uphill run into transition and difficult wetsuit removal had my heartrate soaring, but I was soon on the bike and getting settled into the cockpit. The bike felt good and there was good action to keep me motivated and trying to pass people. I played leapfrog with Greg S for about 10 miles, until finally pulling away near the turnaround. The turnaround involved a tight 180 where I had to put a foot down to avoid capsizing. As I got back onto the pedals, I apologized to the guy that I had cut off and he wished me well as I continued past him (Activated!). I came up alongside a racer as I was switching gears, and he looked over and asked “Are you going for it?” His question caught me off guard and all I could think to say was, “We’ll see!” (I deactivate myself for the lame response.) I climbed the final hill and jumped off the bike shoes and ran to the rack where I proceeded to knock over my water bottles which sent the Gatorade flowing all over the place as the lid broke. Nevermind. My bike split ended up 10 seconds faster than last year. Cool. Visor, shoes, racebelt, GU, and go.
Around the first turn out of transition and down the hill past a smiling and waving Jamie, I peeked at my watch and calculated a similar elapsed time as last year. The early rolling hills had me breathing hard and I didn’t find a rhythm until mile 2 or 3.
The temperature was great, I felt good and thought I was moving pretty well. I had not taken any non-liquid nutrition and was not feeling low on energy. I stuck with water at the aid stations and kept pushing. There were a few faster runners throughout the 10K that made me try to up my pace, but for the most part, I stuck with my own tempo which felt hard, but doable. As I approached the finish area, I could see there was a chance I could best my time from last year. I picked up the pace and raced up the hill, running past a cheering Jamie on the final turn and getting across the finish line with a time that was 7 seconds faster overall than last year. The run was actually slower by 31 seconds, but in retrospect I wasn’t surprised due to my run training as of late.
Beating my time from last year was a good feeling. Maintaining my overall place (13th) was also pleasing. So dropping to 5th in my age group was no big deal and allowed us to leave early and not have to wait for the awards. Win-win.
If this was my last dance in the 35-39 age group, it was a nice way to wrap up 5 years of good racing memories and competitive challenges.
I really appreciate everyone’s support again this season – volunteers, athletes, training partners, spectators, wife, family, friends, and co-workers. Mass Activation.
JPD
posted by JPD at Thursday, September 10, 2009
