Kokopelli Recap (no creative title available)

Kokopelli Recap (no creative title available)

What a great, great, great, great race. Anyone interested in doing this triathlon, I cannot recommend it any higher. Here's the nitty gritty:

Total time: 2:40:00 (weird, right?)

1500m Swim time: 35:48
100m splits: 2:20

20.4 mi Bike time: 1:04
MPH: 19.2

10K Run time: 56:02
Mile splits: 9:03

64/215 place overall
57/150 place in male division
13/25 place in age division

My amazing daughter also has an entry about it where she talks about the race from her point of view, but this is my account of things. And so, on with the retelling of the tale:

My stomach had been jumping up and down all week in anticipation, and I had probably gone out to the garage to fiddle with my bike 50 times that week, but on Saturday morning I got out of bed and got ready, cool as a cucumber. I had a nice shower to wake me up, and tried to eat some breakfast. I ended up only drinking about 12 oz. of banana smoothie, and that's all my stomach really wanted, and by the time I had choked down that much, my father in law was in the driveway to pick me up. We drove out to Sand Hollow chatting about little race tips, and what we were going to do the rest of the day (father in law: climbing, me: napping).

The organization at the actual event site is to die for, despite parking difficulties. The bike racks are set up according to race distance and entry number; those who had entered the race earlier got spots right close to the transition exit, making our bikes easy to find and quick to get on. I lost my father in law as we were setting up, as our assigned spots were on opposite ends of the transition area since he was racing Sprint distance and I was doing Olympic. I knew that I had a long time to wait before I would get into the water, so I basically threw everything down and sauntered over to the water to watch the first waves of guys go out.

I watched the first wave of sprinters go, mostly to look at the course and see if I could tell more or less how they handled swimming in a pack, since I've never really done so. It didn't look too bad, but there was one guy way at the back that was doomed right from the get go - the pour soul immediately started drifting to his right so bad that it wasn't long before he was headed completely in the wrong direction. I spoke to one of the lifeguards today who told me that they ended up pulling the guy out of the water after about 5 minutes. I was fairly confident in my sighting skills, but I made a mental note not to forget to sight every few strokes so that I could remain at least somewhat on course.

About 20 mins before my start time, I wandered back to transition, put on my wetsuit up to my armpits, laid out the rest of my gear in the best configuration that I could manage, and headed down to the dock. It was a bit too crowded to try and get into the water early to warm up, so I decided to chance a cold start. When the moment came, the organizers hearded us into the water single file, explained to us which buoys we needed to swim around, and just like that it was, "ready, set, go!"

I had intentionally positioned myself on the outside of the bunch to avoid the crowds, but even so, the first 200m were a little bumpy. Nevertheless I didn't ever experience the flush of nerves or jitteriness that I had before my previous swims, which I attribute now to being good and practiced in the open water. It was nice to have that peace of mind so I could just focus on my stroke and my preselected landmarks. Today's tips - get into the open water several times before you race, and learn how to defog your goggles beforehand, or invest in fog free goggles. I ended up stopping twice to clear mine off.

Anyway, I fell into a natural rhythm almost immediately and kept with it for the two triangular laps that we were required, and came in feeling good, but a little dizzy. I hopped out of the water, shouted hi to a lifeguard that I recognized, pulled my wetsuit off down to my waist, and hustled through to get onto my bike.



I got to my bike and stripped down, and immediately decided to forgo the procedure of drying off with a towel before pulling on my jersey and shoes. Probably a good move, as my T1 time was close to 3 mins, and one that I would recommend to anyone. You'll get dry on the bike, no doubt.

The bike course was a dream come true. I sped off right from the start and felt great nearly the entire 20 miles. There's a 6% grade hill right at mile 3 that lasts about 1.5 miles, which was difficult, but I alternated sitting and standing up in my pedals, and after a few minutes and a few hard pushes with my legs, I was up and over and headed for 7 more miles of straightaway. I managed to ride most of that side by side with another guy who I think is from northern Utah; we found breath enough to strike up a conversation as we rode along. We shared tri stories and swapped comments about the course, and thanked each other for keeping up the quick pace to get us through to the run. I didn't expect to have the time to talk to anybody, but the opportunity came as a very welcome surprise. I hope I can recognize that guy again in future races.

If I did make a mistake, though, it was during the bike course - I brought along two bottles of Gatorade, thinking that I would need to get in most of my calories during that hour. I felt compelled to drink it all and ended up pounding it down for most of the ride, and as it was undiluted Gatorade, my mouth felt sticky sweet the whole time. Next time, Pete, maybe just do one bottle of the Ade and one of water, and don't worry about finishing it all. The other miscalculation that I made, and this against the advice of world champ Chrissie Wellington, was that I attempted something new on race day: I decided to try out energy gels in addition to my normal nutrition regime. I took one just before the bike, and the other just before the run. Now, it may have been that my GI tract was not used to the gel, or it may have been the overhydration during the bike, or maybe it was just general indigestion caused by a nervous stomach, but as I came flying into T2, my insides started churning like a washing machine. I decided to just see if I could run it out, so I racked my bike, threw on my shoes, and headed out for the last 10K.



I think I "cracked" at about a mile and a half, just after a photographer took a snap of me with a big grin on my face. My belly was splashing like the sea at high tide, and I had a stitch in my right side from my ribs down to my hips. I was at a decision point: I could either walk for a couple of minutes and work it out, or I could keep pushing and risk collapse at about mile 3 or 4 and hobble in or wait for the sweeper truck. I decided to walk. I think I walked all the way to mile 2, stretching out my right side and trying to tell my body to absorb some of the liquid sloshing around in my stomach (does that work, just thinking about digesting faster?), and then I started back up at a slow trot. Just before then, my northern Utah friend strided by, offering words of encouragement. After I started back up, I decided that I would try to catch him.

The rest of the race was painful but in a cleansing, rite-of-passage sort of way - if all I did for the rest of my life was plod along until I crossed the finish line, it would be a job well done. I ended up catching my race friend about half a mile from the finish, and we ran together almost to the end. I crossed the finish line with a cheer from my family and a wave of relief, and stood there for a minute, unable to bend over to undo the safety pin that kept my race chip around my ankle so that I could collect my finisher's medal and sit down for heaven's sake. Eventually some kind gentlemen took it off for me, and I wandered over to my family, who had a chair waiting for me in the shade. It was over.



The post race day was great - after 20 mins or so, I managed to stand up and get some of the sponsors' post-race recovery spaghetti, which my daughters promptly pirated and ate mostly on their own, but I didn't mind as my stomach was still in a bit of a twist. I did manage to get in a few bites, though. Then a peaceful car ride home and the rest of the day, which included an AWESOME massage, a parade in downtown St. George, and watching my Utes cream the corn out of BYU. All in all, a pretty good day.



Evaluation

I'm calling this one a win, even though I didn't quite manage to hit my goal time. Of course, every race you finish is a win, since you always come away with something. I finished with a smile; I hit most of my goal paces; I overcame a serious mental and physical barrier; I can still walk today with only minimal soreness; I'm not so sick of triathlon that I never want to do one again; best of all, I'm left with the strange satisfaction of having generous room for improvement next year. I can definitely run faster with a different nutrition strategy. I'm pretty sure I can squeeze another 1-2 mph out of my current bike (and who knows how much I can get if a new bike is in the cards, which it probably isn't), and I feel like I can swim much faster. My training splits in just my jammers were all around 2:00 or under, so frankly I'm a bit surprised that I had slowed down so much on race day.

Takeaway

It's the engine that counts, folks, not the shiny exterior. I was outgunned in the equipment category during every discipline: there were guys out there in wetsuits nicer than mine, on bikes that could fund a couple of semesters' worth of quality college education, and in tri suits that made the costumes of the movie Tron look quaint and old fashioned, yet I managed to pass at least one of them during every leg.

Again, though, I'm not trying to say that equipment is not important, or that people are silly for spending their money on it; it does make a difference, but you can get surprisingly far without it. I have a serious goal of lowering the fiscal and mental overhead that keeps some people from entering the sport. If you're thinking about getting into triathlon but are low on funds, spend your money getting your body in peak shape first (which is surprisingly cheap), then supplement that by using good gear.

See you next year, Kokopelli!

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