In January of this year I turned to Melinda and said, "Babe, (this is what I always call her right before I'm about to say something really stupid) doing mini-sprint and sprint-distance triathlons last year was tough and all, but it wasn't enough torture. I mean, I don't recall wanting to die or anything. So, how about we do an olympic-distance triathlon next year?" And thus began our trek toward the Spudman Triathlon in Burley, Idaho. We chose the Spudman because you swim downstream in a river. This was a good fit because my swimming skills are approximately on par with this cat:
It was scary signing up for a distance twice what I'd ever done before, but I consoled myself with the fact that the race wasn't until the end of July and I'd be competing with lots of loyal family and friends, who wouldn't let me down no matter what.
Of course, by the time the race rolled around the weekend of July 31st, I was the only one packing up my bike. Everyone else either had something unexpected come up, or had decided they'd rather not squeeze into a spandex race jersey so tight that it would make Spiderman blush. A co-worker got his son's baptism rescheduled for that weekend. My brother-in-law got a new job that weekend. His wife got pregnant (not that weekend, much earlier). And she must have been contagious because Melinda also got pregnant.
Melinda, Bree and I drove up to Burley on Friday, the day before the race. I enjoyed a good pre-race, carbo-load, pasta dinner. And then I used a meal ticket from one of the other racers who didn't come and helped myself to another plate. It was a fun atmosphere. There were about 1500 racers and their families, and unlike my other races, everyone looked like this: tan, sun-bleached hair, rippling muscles and 2% body fat. So, naturally, I fit right in.
That evening I got my bike transition area all set up. Do I look calm, cool and collected?
That's because I'm an actor. (Look in the program for the 1995 Timpview High School production of The Wizard of Oz and you'll see my name listed under Flying Monkey and, yes, Munchkin. I was a 6 ft-tall munchkin.)
From the point this picture was taken I was in constant danger of passing out from anxiety and hyperventilation.
The next morning we woke around 6:30am and headed to the race start.
I got in my first wetsuit for my first open-water swim of my first olympic-distance triathlon. Start times were staggered to accommodate all the racers, and my wave was 8. Melinda and I couldn't find each other after I went to change because there were so many people and we all looked alike with black wetsuits and a neon orange swim cap. After searching for several minutes, Melinda finally found me and gave me a good luck kiss, only to wonder afterward why I had brown eyes and a goatee.
The gun went off and I started swimming like my life depended on it. In a race, it's all a mental game, so I began to repeat motivating phrases to myself like,
"I'm going to die. I can't breathe. Why didn't I ever practice swimming outside of a pool? I'm going to drown. I'll never make it a full mile. And why did Melinda kiss that guy with a goatee?"
19 minutes and 7 seconds later I crawled out of the water and switched to my bike. Because of my near-death experience a month earlier, I packed plenty of water and energy gels and downed them almost constantly. The bike portion was 24 miles long and so I found a friend to pace off for the majority of the course. We passed a lot of other racers, and in turn were also passed by a lot of people who looked like they'd just got finished running around a spaceship with Sigourney Weaver.
An hour and ten minutes later I jumped off my bike, threw on my Vibram Five Finger shoes and headed out for the 10k run. The good news was that were no clouds that day, so I didn't have to worry about annoying cloud cover. I didn't break any records on the run with my 53:43 time, but I was able to finish strong. Since I had no idea how much energy I had to reserve, I ended up having enough energy for a full-on sprint toward the finish line. This made me look better than I actually was in the video Melinda took of my finish.
Here's me in my not-appropriate-for-date-night jersey (note the uncovered shoulders and bare midriff—eat your heart out, Spiderman). This was taken during the final sprint to the finish:
My final time was 2:28:08 which was pretty much middle of the pack for my division. The good news was I finished alive and had my two best girls waiting at the end for me.
5 comments:
You're crazy, crazy, crazy. I'm sore and tired just reading from your blog.
Congrats man....something I would never be able to accomplish (since i am weaker than that cat in the first picture). My hat is off to you!
---Posted by Austin (not Sarah)
You should be a professional storyteller! I am sure they get paid a lot...Seriously though, awesome job (on the triathlon. and the story telling)!
Well I guess I'll forgive you for taking 2 months to FINALLY post your race report since it was so laugh out loud funny. The 6 ft tall munchkin was particularly hilarious, especially since I actually witnessed you in all your overgrown munchkin glory. : ) Also cracked up over "Why did Melinda kiss that guy with a goatee?" too funny!
AWESOME finish time on your first Olympic Tri!! I'd be amazed if I could do it under 3 hours. That video of the swim part alone almost made me start hyperventilating, I seriously can't believe you swam a mile. Also CANNOT belief you ran a 53 minute 10K after swimming and biking so long!! That's pretty dang awesome. Love your last action shot, you totally look like you're flying in your magic finger toe shoes ; ) Must've felt good to pass all those people at the end. Great job and I must say, you are pretty lucky to have the cutest cheering section on the planet. : )
So I totally want to do the Spudman next summer...for one because of the downriver current and two because Burley is where my FIL is from! good old idaho:) what do you do to train for it? do you use a fancy road bike or what?
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