Hi everyone,
This blog is no longer active. I have moved everything over to http://www.souloftriathlon.wordpress.com
Please visit that new site. Thanks!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
at any age . . .
In the last few races I've done there have been several guys in the 70+ category. I've written about that before, but it still amazes me. Here's a story about a woman who is in her 60s and still doing triathlons. Amazing!
http://www.miamiherald.com/news/broward/cooper-davie-southwest/story/1262594.html
http://www.miamiherald.com/news/broward/cooper-davie-southwest/story/1262594.html
something to check out
I'm not sure how to do links yet, but here's a blog I've been reading lately: http://www.triathlontrainingblog.com/
Good stuff, especially for us die-hard age groupers.
Good stuff, especially for us die-hard age groupers.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Point Pleasant Triathlon
Payton MacDonald
Point Pleasant Sprint Triathlon Race Report
600 meter swim, 10.5 mile bike, 3.1 mile run
Swim: 9:37; 1:31 pace
T1: 3:35
Bike: 31:19, 20.1 mph pace
T2: 1:10
Run: 23:17; 7:46/mile pace
Total time: 1:08:56
Place: 23 out of 98
Pre Race
Point Pleasant. This is where it all began for me. I’ve written about this elsewhere, so I’ll skip the details, but I did my first triathlon here in 2007 and then again in 2008. Both times I trained on my own. Since I don’t have an athletic backround I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had fun. And most importantly it set me on a path to a more active lifestyle that has been a profound change in my life. But this time it was different. Last year I placed fifth from last and it took me 1:39:40. This year I placed in the top quarter and it took me 1:08:56. Big difference.
But I almost didn’t make it to the race. I got directions to the town of Point Pleasant and figured once I was there I would remember how to get to the race site. Wrong. I stopped three times to ask but no one know how to get there. By this time it was 8:15 and the race started at 8:45. In a panic I called home and thankfully Jessica answered and was able to guide me to the race using Google maps. She had decided not to come because it was raining, but was still the most effective director of Team Payton ever. If it weren’t for her I would have ended my season in frustration rather than victory. From now on I will ALWAYS bring directions.
I got to the race site at 8:30, checked in, did my best with getting my transition area set up, pulled on my wetsuit, and was down in the water at 8:44. That warm up run and bike ride I had planned? Nope. That nice arrangement of my stuff for transition? Nope. Oh well, at least I got there. I had also been sick all week, coughing and hacking, and as of the day before I wasn’t sure I was even going to be able to race. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best choice to race while sick (and for the record my coach wisely advised me against it), but I knew I needed to test out my new race skills on this familiar course after 10 months of dedicated training or I would forever regret it.
Swim
This was my best swim yet, both in terms of comfort and time. There weren’t that many of us and the path was wide, so I had no trouble finding a nice clean line. I passed a lot of people from the first wave, but still never had to fight traffic. 1:31 is a PR for me. I plan on making that my average race speed next season.
I mostly remember feeling surprised at how short the swim was and inevitably a tinge of sadness when I got to the end of it. Many triathletes dread the swim, but I actually like it, especially when it’s smooth like this one was.
T1
I have no idea why this took me so long, but I think mostly it was because my transition area was messy. I really need to keep working on my transitions, though. The fastest guy did his in 1:29, so my 3:35 is really slow. It doesn’t take any superior level of fitness to have fast transitions, just practice and planning. If I had trimmed off just a two or three minutes from my two transition times combined I would have placed five or six places higher in the final results. Lesson learned.
Bike
No problems here, I just cranked and cranked. I love riding my bike, even in the rain. I’m surprised that my pace here was only 1 mph faster than last year since this year I was on a road bike and last year I was on a big old cruiser bike, but it wasn’t pouring rain last year and that cruiser bike was actually pretty fast once you got used to it. I passed a lot of people and was only passed by two guys, but not by much.
T2
A little slow, but otherwise fine.
Run
My best yet and another PR. I was hoping to average a 8:30 pace so coming out at a 7:46 pace was a pleasant surprise. I’ve only run that fast during speed work runs, so I didn’t know I had it in me, but I guess I do. I’m a little tall and heavy to ever reach elite levels of running but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to eventually get my pace down to, say, 6:30 for short races, and 7:00 for longer ones. It will take a few years, though. Running seems simple but is actually very complicated and it’s easy to get injured if you do too much too soon. I didn’t really run as much this season as I should have because I suffered an overuse injury earlier in the season that sidelined my running for almost a month, but still this was huge improvement for me and gives me confidence that I can do even better next season.
Post Race
I’ll never forget crossing that finish line. I wasn’t wearing a watch or heart-rate monitor during the race, so I had no idea how I was doing. I was hoping to break 1:15 and secretly really wanted to break 1:10 so when I came in at 1:08:56 I was elated. The feeling of finishing a race successfully is a lot like turning in a great performance on my instruments. I was flooded with feelings of joy and goodwill and I felt so happy to be alive and to have these kinds of opportunities. In fact, I was in such a great mood that I couldn’t even take a nap later in the day!
The past year has been life-changing for me. I never used to think I had any athletic potential. And frankly, I never really liked the world of athletics. My memories of athletics from high school and college are pretty negative. The athletes always got special treatment, were not always that gifted academically, and seemed overpaid and useless to society. I realized that the games provided entertainment for a lot of people, and entertainment is certainly a necessary release from the pressures of working life, but I just didn’t see the fairness in athletes getting millions of dollars a year while many of best artists and intellectuals were struggling in poverty. It’s not like Michael Jordan was solving our energy problems or writing great symphonies. He was just throwing a ball around!
My feelings about the distribution of wealth between the arts, sciences, and sports still hasn’t changed, but I have a new love of athletics. I realize now that Michael Jordon wasn’t just “throwing a ball around,” but he was demonstrating human physical potential, and he was doing it with grace and humility. The human body is an incredible work of art. From the structure of the skeleton to the harmony of the organs, to the way the muscles work, to the interplay of mind and spirit—it is truly remarkable. And even more remarkable is that most of us have a lot of potential. Unfortunately some of us don’t, and especially when I see kids who are stricken with terminal illness I feel so very, very sad. But for those of us are lucky enough to have working bodies, there is nothing more empowering than putting them to work and realizing our potential.
My body has changed in the last 10 months. My weight has stayed right around 170, but my waistline has gotten a bit narrower (I went from a 34 waist to a 33 or 32) and my shoulders got a bit broader. I now have muscles in my legs that I didn’t even know existed, as well as my back. And my view of my body has changed as well. I always used to have a slightly negative view of my appearance. I knew I wasn’t hideous looking, but after 30 years of people constantly teasing me about being thin and tall, I also knew that I wasn’t an “ideal body type.” Well, fuck them! For triathlon, you’re supposed to be thin. In fact, at 6’3” and 170 lbs, I’m actually on the big side! Most elite triathletes are four or five inches shorter and 15 pounds lighter. I realize now that my body is just fine, in fact, it’s beautiful. And people who tease me are usually doing it because they’re jealous or ignorant.
Being physically fit has increased my confidence more than anything else. Not so much because I feel superior to the masses of fat, doughy people in the world (especially the U.S.A.), but more because it feels good to walk around and feel my muscles working. I don’t need any prescription drugs, I don’t need to use the elevator, and I definitely don’t need to whine about my back hurting or whatever. Okay, I’ll admit I do feel a little superior to the masses of unfit people, but I deserve that feeling, as do the millions of other fit people who work hard to stay fit. True, I’m blessed with genetics that make obesity hard for me, but no one is getting up for me at 5:00 a.m. to get in those workouts. That’s all me.
There are many ways for people to get fit, but for me this sport is a good fit. I like the complexity of the sport and I really enjoy the variety. Between the swimming, biking, running, weight lifting, yoga, hiking, etc, that go into training it’s impossible to get bored. I’ve also really enjoyed the social aspect of the sport. My closest friends are still the musicians that I went to school with and perform with (especially the Alarm Will Sound family), but it’s been nice to broaden my social circle. I’ve met some really fabulous people and I’ve developed some great friendships. I’ll never get tired of partying with AWS or my other musician friends, but the hedonistic musician lifestyle is becoming increasingly foreign to me. I suppose part of it is maturity, what with a family and all, but a big part of it has been getting fit.
I’ve had a lot of conversations with my musician friends about what makes a given person particularly creative. Especially Alan Pierson and I have talked about that a lot. The prevailing attitude in the arts still seems to be that the most creative people are screwed up in some way. They’re drug addicts, or mentally unstable, or socially backwards, or all of the above. That attitude is really a throwback to the 19th century when the Romantic era was in full swing and artists like Belioz, Liszt, Schumann, or Chopin had problems like that. But we don’t live in that era any more, despite Kurt Cobain. We now know that creativity takes many shapes and forms and creative people live many kinds of lives. I’ve noticed in the past year that as my fitness level has increased my music has become more free, less academic, and much more personal. In short, I’ve seen a direct coorelation between healthy living and more creative power.
That doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone, but it is definitely working for me. And with every day that passes I see my life coming into focus in a way that it never was before. I thank Keith Cook for his guidance, as well as Jason Santarcangelo and the other folks on Team NRGY. And of course I really thank Jessica, the most perfect woman on the planet.
For next year, this is what I want to accomplish:
1.) get my race swim pace consistently down to 1:30
2.) develop more strength for increased speed up hills when I’m on my bike, and start looking into getting a tri bike
3.) get my running race pace for Sprint distance down to 7:15 or better, get my Olympic distance down to 8:00 or better
4.) have fun and don’t take myself too seriously
Now for some time off for a few months. I’ll go into off-season training and focus on my various musical projects, and then start up again in January or February.
Point Pleasant Sprint Triathlon Race Report
600 meter swim, 10.5 mile bike, 3.1 mile run
Swim: 9:37; 1:31 pace
T1: 3:35
Bike: 31:19, 20.1 mph pace
T2: 1:10
Run: 23:17; 7:46/mile pace
Total time: 1:08:56
Place: 23 out of 98
Pre Race
Point Pleasant. This is where it all began for me. I’ve written about this elsewhere, so I’ll skip the details, but I did my first triathlon here in 2007 and then again in 2008. Both times I trained on my own. Since I don’t have an athletic backround I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had fun. And most importantly it set me on a path to a more active lifestyle that has been a profound change in my life. But this time it was different. Last year I placed fifth from last and it took me 1:39:40. This year I placed in the top quarter and it took me 1:08:56. Big difference.
But I almost didn’t make it to the race. I got directions to the town of Point Pleasant and figured once I was there I would remember how to get to the race site. Wrong. I stopped three times to ask but no one know how to get there. By this time it was 8:15 and the race started at 8:45. In a panic I called home and thankfully Jessica answered and was able to guide me to the race using Google maps. She had decided not to come because it was raining, but was still the most effective director of Team Payton ever. If it weren’t for her I would have ended my season in frustration rather than victory. From now on I will ALWAYS bring directions.
I got to the race site at 8:30, checked in, did my best with getting my transition area set up, pulled on my wetsuit, and was down in the water at 8:44. That warm up run and bike ride I had planned? Nope. That nice arrangement of my stuff for transition? Nope. Oh well, at least I got there. I had also been sick all week, coughing and hacking, and as of the day before I wasn’t sure I was even going to be able to race. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best choice to race while sick (and for the record my coach wisely advised me against it), but I knew I needed to test out my new race skills on this familiar course after 10 months of dedicated training or I would forever regret it.
Swim
This was my best swim yet, both in terms of comfort and time. There weren’t that many of us and the path was wide, so I had no trouble finding a nice clean line. I passed a lot of people from the first wave, but still never had to fight traffic. 1:31 is a PR for me. I plan on making that my average race speed next season.
I mostly remember feeling surprised at how short the swim was and inevitably a tinge of sadness when I got to the end of it. Many triathletes dread the swim, but I actually like it, especially when it’s smooth like this one was.
T1
I have no idea why this took me so long, but I think mostly it was because my transition area was messy. I really need to keep working on my transitions, though. The fastest guy did his in 1:29, so my 3:35 is really slow. It doesn’t take any superior level of fitness to have fast transitions, just practice and planning. If I had trimmed off just a two or three minutes from my two transition times combined I would have placed five or six places higher in the final results. Lesson learned.
Bike
No problems here, I just cranked and cranked. I love riding my bike, even in the rain. I’m surprised that my pace here was only 1 mph faster than last year since this year I was on a road bike and last year I was on a big old cruiser bike, but it wasn’t pouring rain last year and that cruiser bike was actually pretty fast once you got used to it. I passed a lot of people and was only passed by two guys, but not by much.
T2
A little slow, but otherwise fine.
Run
My best yet and another PR. I was hoping to average a 8:30 pace so coming out at a 7:46 pace was a pleasant surprise. I’ve only run that fast during speed work runs, so I didn’t know I had it in me, but I guess I do. I’m a little tall and heavy to ever reach elite levels of running but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to eventually get my pace down to, say, 6:30 for short races, and 7:00 for longer ones. It will take a few years, though. Running seems simple but is actually very complicated and it’s easy to get injured if you do too much too soon. I didn’t really run as much this season as I should have because I suffered an overuse injury earlier in the season that sidelined my running for almost a month, but still this was huge improvement for me and gives me confidence that I can do even better next season.
Post Race
I’ll never forget crossing that finish line. I wasn’t wearing a watch or heart-rate monitor during the race, so I had no idea how I was doing. I was hoping to break 1:15 and secretly really wanted to break 1:10 so when I came in at 1:08:56 I was elated. The feeling of finishing a race successfully is a lot like turning in a great performance on my instruments. I was flooded with feelings of joy and goodwill and I felt so happy to be alive and to have these kinds of opportunities. In fact, I was in such a great mood that I couldn’t even take a nap later in the day!
The past year has been life-changing for me. I never used to think I had any athletic potential. And frankly, I never really liked the world of athletics. My memories of athletics from high school and college are pretty negative. The athletes always got special treatment, were not always that gifted academically, and seemed overpaid and useless to society. I realized that the games provided entertainment for a lot of people, and entertainment is certainly a necessary release from the pressures of working life, but I just didn’t see the fairness in athletes getting millions of dollars a year while many of best artists and intellectuals were struggling in poverty. It’s not like Michael Jordan was solving our energy problems or writing great symphonies. He was just throwing a ball around!
My feelings about the distribution of wealth between the arts, sciences, and sports still hasn’t changed, but I have a new love of athletics. I realize now that Michael Jordon wasn’t just “throwing a ball around,” but he was demonstrating human physical potential, and he was doing it with grace and humility. The human body is an incredible work of art. From the structure of the skeleton to the harmony of the organs, to the way the muscles work, to the interplay of mind and spirit—it is truly remarkable. And even more remarkable is that most of us have a lot of potential. Unfortunately some of us don’t, and especially when I see kids who are stricken with terminal illness I feel so very, very sad. But for those of us are lucky enough to have working bodies, there is nothing more empowering than putting them to work and realizing our potential.
My body has changed in the last 10 months. My weight has stayed right around 170, but my waistline has gotten a bit narrower (I went from a 34 waist to a 33 or 32) and my shoulders got a bit broader. I now have muscles in my legs that I didn’t even know existed, as well as my back. And my view of my body has changed as well. I always used to have a slightly negative view of my appearance. I knew I wasn’t hideous looking, but after 30 years of people constantly teasing me about being thin and tall, I also knew that I wasn’t an “ideal body type.” Well, fuck them! For triathlon, you’re supposed to be thin. In fact, at 6’3” and 170 lbs, I’m actually on the big side! Most elite triathletes are four or five inches shorter and 15 pounds lighter. I realize now that my body is just fine, in fact, it’s beautiful. And people who tease me are usually doing it because they’re jealous or ignorant.
Being physically fit has increased my confidence more than anything else. Not so much because I feel superior to the masses of fat, doughy people in the world (especially the U.S.A.), but more because it feels good to walk around and feel my muscles working. I don’t need any prescription drugs, I don’t need to use the elevator, and I definitely don’t need to whine about my back hurting or whatever. Okay, I’ll admit I do feel a little superior to the masses of unfit people, but I deserve that feeling, as do the millions of other fit people who work hard to stay fit. True, I’m blessed with genetics that make obesity hard for me, but no one is getting up for me at 5:00 a.m. to get in those workouts. That’s all me.
There are many ways for people to get fit, but for me this sport is a good fit. I like the complexity of the sport and I really enjoy the variety. Between the swimming, biking, running, weight lifting, yoga, hiking, etc, that go into training it’s impossible to get bored. I’ve also really enjoyed the social aspect of the sport. My closest friends are still the musicians that I went to school with and perform with (especially the Alarm Will Sound family), but it’s been nice to broaden my social circle. I’ve met some really fabulous people and I’ve developed some great friendships. I’ll never get tired of partying with AWS or my other musician friends, but the hedonistic musician lifestyle is becoming increasingly foreign to me. I suppose part of it is maturity, what with a family and all, but a big part of it has been getting fit.
I’ve had a lot of conversations with my musician friends about what makes a given person particularly creative. Especially Alan Pierson and I have talked about that a lot. The prevailing attitude in the arts still seems to be that the most creative people are screwed up in some way. They’re drug addicts, or mentally unstable, or socially backwards, or all of the above. That attitude is really a throwback to the 19th century when the Romantic era was in full swing and artists like Belioz, Liszt, Schumann, or Chopin had problems like that. But we don’t live in that era any more, despite Kurt Cobain. We now know that creativity takes many shapes and forms and creative people live many kinds of lives. I’ve noticed in the past year that as my fitness level has increased my music has become more free, less academic, and much more personal. In short, I’ve seen a direct coorelation between healthy living and more creative power.
That doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone, but it is definitely working for me. And with every day that passes I see my life coming into focus in a way that it never was before. I thank Keith Cook for his guidance, as well as Jason Santarcangelo and the other folks on Team NRGY. And of course I really thank Jessica, the most perfect woman on the planet.
For next year, this is what I want to accomplish:
1.) get my race swim pace consistently down to 1:30
2.) develop more strength for increased speed up hills when I’m on my bike, and start looking into getting a tri bike
3.) get my running race pace for Sprint distance down to 7:15 or better, get my Olympic distance down to 8:00 or better
4.) have fun and don’t take myself too seriously
Now for some time off for a few months. I’ll go into off-season training and focus on my various musical projects, and then start up again in January or February.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Buckman sprint triathlon, “Going to the Movies Alone”
Buckman triathlon
.5 mile swim, 17 mile bike, 3.1 mile run
Swim: 16:08
T: 2:07
Bike: 55:59, 18.2 mph average
T2: 0:56
Run: 27:03, 8:44/pace
Total time: 1:42:11
40 out of 136
Pre race
A few days before the race I was fighting a little eye infection and I saw a doctor. He wisely advised me not to do the race, but I ignored him. Sometimes it’s good to listen to doctors, usually it’s not. The eye is fine now, and I’m glad I raced. But other than that, I went into the race feeling strong and ready to go.
Buckman Triathlon takes place in Round Valley State Park, in Central Jersey. Back in April I took a long bike ride there with my coach, Keith Cook, so I was familiar with the area. There are hundreds of horse farms there, with rolling hills and old mansions. It’s a beautiful place, and that bike ride convinced me yet again that New Jersey is actually a scenic state in places. True, the industrial sections around Newark and Eastern Philadelphia are hideous, but there are many other places in the state that are quite beautiful.
I was hoping that Team Payton (Jessica and Madeline) would join me, but it was raining steadily when we got up that morning and we decided it would be best if I went alone. I’ve only done a few races alone and the feeling is a lot like going to the movies by oneself. It’s fun to be alone in a quasi-social setting, anonymous and undisturbed. I enjoyed being able to really focus on the race and not worry about whether Madeline and Jessie were bored. But it’s not something I’d want to do all the time. There’s nothing more satisfying than crossing that finish line and seeing those two pairs of brown eyes twinkling at me.
Swim
No problems on the swim, except that as usual the first half was chaotic and I got bumped around a lot. At this point I can consistently swim a 1:50 pace in the pool or in the open water by myself, so it’s a bit frustrating that I keep coming in slightly over two minutes in the races, but I’m losing a lot of time in the first half of the swim, before the congestion eases. Perhaps I just need to be more aggressive when I’m swimming, but I’m not that keen on contact sports. Eventually I hope to get my T-pace down to 1:30 or better and then I’ll just be ahead of most everyone, with a nice clean line for swimming. For now, though, I’m fighting traffic.
T1
No problems here, though I’d like to get this under two minutes. But 2:07 isn’t bad. I just need to work on getting out of my wetsuit faster.
Bike
I really cranked on the bike. And cranked. And cranked. I wasn’t wearing a watch or heart-rate monitor, which was a good thing. If I had known that I was cranking that hard for 56 minutes straight I probably would have let up once in a while. I never felt sick or dizzy, but my heart rate was definitely in one of the higher zones for a long time. The hills were pretty intense and at times I was only going about seven or eight mph. But what goes up must come down and I also got up to 34 mph on several occassions. It rained the whole time, but I was careful. As much as I love the speed, I also don’t want to crash any time soon. I suppose a bike crash is inevitable at some point, but I do try to be as careful as possible. Things change when you have a beautiful baby girl at home and another on the way. I’m not as reckless as I used to be.
I passed about eight or nine people and was passed by two folks. I took much pleasure in passing several guys that were riding $3,000 bikes. As Lance Armstrong said, “it’s not about the bike.”
T2
My best yet. Under a minute.
Run
This went pretty well. I can easily run a 8:30 pace in training, and the other day I ran my first 7:30 mile, so 8:44 is a bit slow for me, but those hills on the bike really chewed up my legs and I was really feeling it the entire run. I felt a mild cramp coming on about mile two and walked a bit to let it go, but otherwise I plodded along with confidence. I remember that in the last quarter mile there ended up being a pack of six or seven of us sprinting towards the finish line. No matter how much I try not to be competitive with my colleagues on the course, I still try to pass as many of them as I can. Sometimes that competitive spirit can make you go even further. I did end up passing several of them, but there was this one 20-something girl that I just couldn’t catch. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t catch her. She went over the finish line only a second before me. Who knows, deep down maybe I didn’t want to pass her. She was quite attractive!
Conclusion
This was a great race for me, and in terms of placement I set a new personal record. I ended up 40 out of 136, which puts me squarely in the top third. Considering that only a year ago I was placing fifth from the bottom, this is HUGE improvement. I’m grateful to Keith for his guidance, and also Jason and the rest of the crew at Team NRGY for all their help. And I’m especially grateful to Jessica for being so supportive. I’m looking forward to next summer when this pregnancy is over and we can start working out together again. I definitely won’t pass Jessica on the run. She’s the most attractive woman of them all!
.5 mile swim, 17 mile bike, 3.1 mile run
Swim: 16:08
T: 2:07
Bike: 55:59, 18.2 mph average
T2: 0:56
Run: 27:03, 8:44/pace
Total time: 1:42:11
40 out of 136
Pre race
A few days before the race I was fighting a little eye infection and I saw a doctor. He wisely advised me not to do the race, but I ignored him. Sometimes it’s good to listen to doctors, usually it’s not. The eye is fine now, and I’m glad I raced. But other than that, I went into the race feeling strong and ready to go.
Buckman Triathlon takes place in Round Valley State Park, in Central Jersey. Back in April I took a long bike ride there with my coach, Keith Cook, so I was familiar with the area. There are hundreds of horse farms there, with rolling hills and old mansions. It’s a beautiful place, and that bike ride convinced me yet again that New Jersey is actually a scenic state in places. True, the industrial sections around Newark and Eastern Philadelphia are hideous, but there are many other places in the state that are quite beautiful.
I was hoping that Team Payton (Jessica and Madeline) would join me, but it was raining steadily when we got up that morning and we decided it would be best if I went alone. I’ve only done a few races alone and the feeling is a lot like going to the movies by oneself. It’s fun to be alone in a quasi-social setting, anonymous and undisturbed. I enjoyed being able to really focus on the race and not worry about whether Madeline and Jessie were bored. But it’s not something I’d want to do all the time. There’s nothing more satisfying than crossing that finish line and seeing those two pairs of brown eyes twinkling at me.
Swim
No problems on the swim, except that as usual the first half was chaotic and I got bumped around a lot. At this point I can consistently swim a 1:50 pace in the pool or in the open water by myself, so it’s a bit frustrating that I keep coming in slightly over two minutes in the races, but I’m losing a lot of time in the first half of the swim, before the congestion eases. Perhaps I just need to be more aggressive when I’m swimming, but I’m not that keen on contact sports. Eventually I hope to get my T-pace down to 1:30 or better and then I’ll just be ahead of most everyone, with a nice clean line for swimming. For now, though, I’m fighting traffic.
T1
No problems here, though I’d like to get this under two minutes. But 2:07 isn’t bad. I just need to work on getting out of my wetsuit faster.
Bike
I really cranked on the bike. And cranked. And cranked. I wasn’t wearing a watch or heart-rate monitor, which was a good thing. If I had known that I was cranking that hard for 56 minutes straight I probably would have let up once in a while. I never felt sick or dizzy, but my heart rate was definitely in one of the higher zones for a long time. The hills were pretty intense and at times I was only going about seven or eight mph. But what goes up must come down and I also got up to 34 mph on several occassions. It rained the whole time, but I was careful. As much as I love the speed, I also don’t want to crash any time soon. I suppose a bike crash is inevitable at some point, but I do try to be as careful as possible. Things change when you have a beautiful baby girl at home and another on the way. I’m not as reckless as I used to be.
I passed about eight or nine people and was passed by two folks. I took much pleasure in passing several guys that were riding $3,000 bikes. As Lance Armstrong said, “it’s not about the bike.”
T2
My best yet. Under a minute.
Run
This went pretty well. I can easily run a 8:30 pace in training, and the other day I ran my first 7:30 mile, so 8:44 is a bit slow for me, but those hills on the bike really chewed up my legs and I was really feeling it the entire run. I felt a mild cramp coming on about mile two and walked a bit to let it go, but otherwise I plodded along with confidence. I remember that in the last quarter mile there ended up being a pack of six or seven of us sprinting towards the finish line. No matter how much I try not to be competitive with my colleagues on the course, I still try to pass as many of them as I can. Sometimes that competitive spirit can make you go even further. I did end up passing several of them, but there was this one 20-something girl that I just couldn’t catch. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t catch her. She went over the finish line only a second before me. Who knows, deep down maybe I didn’t want to pass her. She was quite attractive!
Conclusion
This was a great race for me, and in terms of placement I set a new personal record. I ended up 40 out of 136, which puts me squarely in the top third. Considering that only a year ago I was placing fifth from the bottom, this is HUGE improvement. I’m grateful to Keith for his guidance, and also Jason and the rest of the crew at Team NRGY for all their help. And I’m especially grateful to Jessica for being so supportive. I’m looking forward to next summer when this pregnancy is over and we can start working out together again. I definitely won’t pass Jessica on the run. She’s the most attractive woman of them all!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Xterra Schiff Scout race
Payton MacDonald
Xterra Schiff Scout Race Report
August 30, 2009
.5 mile swim, 10.5 mile mountain bike, 3.1 mile run
Swim:16:12
T1: 3:06
Bike: 1:01:10
T2: 1:03
Run: 31:13
Total time: 1:52:45
Place: 81 out of 164
PRE RACE
I expected this race to be much more comfortable than the Trimax Xterra I did in June. Trimax was in a beautiful setting, but the mountain bike portion was very technical and frankly far above my present ability level. Keith recommended Scout Schiff and it was a good recommendation, especially for folks like me who aren't crazy about carrying their mountain bikes over miles and miles of craggy rocks.
The course is situated on a boy scout camp in Wading River, on Long Island. It's a good two hours to drive there from Jersey so we made arrangements at a hotel just down the road and traveled there on Saturday. The hotel was overpriced and a bit seedy, so next year we'll try for something else. Jessica has an old friend from Interlochen in Wading River and we spent Saturday afternoon with her, her husband, and two young children. Madeline had a blast running around with the other kids and it was a low-key way to spend the day. The weather forcast was for heavy rains, but fortunately that didn't happen.
The next morning I got there by 7:00, ate a few bites of a powerbar and some water, rode a bit of the bike course, visited the toilet several times and just got comfortable. I was relieved to see that the bike course was mostly flat and smooth with no rock gardens.
SWIM
The swim was set up as two .25 mile loops, with a short run on the beach separating them. I started off strong, though I was unable to find a clear line for most of the first lap. I'm now solidly in the middle of the pack in terms of speed so I'm constantly swimming under and over and next to the other racers. Seems like no matter where I start this is the case now. The only problem I had in the first lap is that I got a big foot to my face and my left eye piece on my goggles instantly filled with water. With all the thrashing around of hundreds of racers it wasn't really convenient to tread water and fix it, so I just kept going. I fixed it while running on the sand before the second lap. The second lap was nice and smooth. The run up to the transition spot is long, but I enjoyed seeing Jessica and Madeline. Jessica waved at me. Madeline had her thumb in her mouth and looked thoroughly perplexed. I can't imagine how bizarre triathlon must look to a one-year-old.
T1
I had decided before the race to not hurry through my transitions. Especially with the first one, I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed. I had also decided to wear elbow pads for the bike as my right elbow is still a little tender from the fall I took in June. (I should probably get that checked out . . .) But I got suited up and out of there in a little over three minutes.
BIKE
The bike course was really fun, especially as I was riding my new 29er Specialized Rockhopper expert with clipless pedals. That thing just rolls over everything. The course was fairly flat and smooth, and it was mostly a narrow trail that wound through the woods. In that sense it was technical. Some of the turns were sharp and if you weren't careful you could easily slam into a tree. But I was careful and I had no problems. The only frustrating thing is that the trail was so narrow it could be hard to pass. I lost many minutes putting along behind slow riders waiting for a safe place to pass where the trail widened out a bit. Overall, though, I passed about eight or nine people, but probably 15 or so passed me. Clearly I need to work on my speed on the mountain bike, but speed on a mountain bike is made of three things: 1.) cardiovascular and muscular strength, 2.) handling skills, 3.) being completely insane and unafraid of grisly crashes. There's still much I can do in terms of numbers one and two but with a family and a career as a musician (who depends on his hands and arms), number three is out of the question. So be it. The most important thing is that I had a great time and I am excited about riding that bike course again next year.
T2
No problems here, just in and out. Hopefully I can get this down to about 45 seconds next year.
RUN
The run was probably my best run of the season, even though my pace wasn't that fast. It was a challenging run, with some steep hills and even a stretch through knee-deep water, but I felt strong for most of it and I ran pretty fast. I also enjoyed it, which isn't always the case with the run. The only problem I had was around mile 2.5. I was cruising along, feeling strong and buoyed up by the run into the final stretch, when all of a sudden I seized up with a very painful cramp in my right side. I literally stopped in my tracks, breathless, and walked slowly for several minutes until I recovered. This was disappointing because I probably could have made my goal of about a nine-minute mile pace, but I lost several minutes with this. I deserved it, though. I clearly remember that right before I cramped a few people passed me. My emotional state had been very high for the entire race, with clear and noble thoughts. But as I got to the end of the run and got more tired I remember feeling less charitable towards the other racers (" . . .she's fast, but she isn't that attractive . . ."). Those are shameful thoughts, but if these race reports are to mean anything, I have to be honest. I have this vision in my mind that as those thoughts crowded into my head God looked down from Her throne on a fluffy white cloud and sent a lighting bolt of cramp straight to my right side. "That'll teach him," She must have said. But I recovered and finished strong. Jessica and Madeline were waiting for me and Madeline even gave me a big smile and shouted "Da Da!"
POST RACE
In closing, I felt that this was my best race of the season in terms of smoothness and my effort level. I cranked hard and even though I wasn't wearing my HR monitor I would guess that my heart rate was in Zone 5 for almost the entire race. I came out right in the middle, 81 out of 164. That is a HUGE improvement from the previous years before I received proper training and I would place almost dead last. But most importantly I had fun. I recommend this race to anyone who wants to try an Xterra but doesn't want to deal with a dangerous and technical mountain bike course
Xterra Schiff Scout Race Report
August 30, 2009
.5 mile swim, 10.5 mile mountain bike, 3.1 mile run
Swim:16:12
T1: 3:06
Bike: 1:01:10
T2: 1:03
Run: 31:13
Total time: 1:52:45
Place: 81 out of 164
PRE RACE
I expected this race to be much more comfortable than the Trimax Xterra I did in June. Trimax was in a beautiful setting, but the mountain bike portion was very technical and frankly far above my present ability level. Keith recommended Scout Schiff and it was a good recommendation, especially for folks like me who aren't crazy about carrying their mountain bikes over miles and miles of craggy rocks.
The course is situated on a boy scout camp in Wading River, on Long Island. It's a good two hours to drive there from Jersey so we made arrangements at a hotel just down the road and traveled there on Saturday. The hotel was overpriced and a bit seedy, so next year we'll try for something else. Jessica has an old friend from Interlochen in Wading River and we spent Saturday afternoon with her, her husband, and two young children. Madeline had a blast running around with the other kids and it was a low-key way to spend the day. The weather forcast was for heavy rains, but fortunately that didn't happen.
The next morning I got there by 7:00, ate a few bites of a powerbar and some water, rode a bit of the bike course, visited the toilet several times and just got comfortable. I was relieved to see that the bike course was mostly flat and smooth with no rock gardens.
SWIM
The swim was set up as two .25 mile loops, with a short run on the beach separating them. I started off strong, though I was unable to find a clear line for most of the first lap. I'm now solidly in the middle of the pack in terms of speed so I'm constantly swimming under and over and next to the other racers. Seems like no matter where I start this is the case now. The only problem I had in the first lap is that I got a big foot to my face and my left eye piece on my goggles instantly filled with water. With all the thrashing around of hundreds of racers it wasn't really convenient to tread water and fix it, so I just kept going. I fixed it while running on the sand before the second lap. The second lap was nice and smooth. The run up to the transition spot is long, but I enjoyed seeing Jessica and Madeline. Jessica waved at me. Madeline had her thumb in her mouth and looked thoroughly perplexed. I can't imagine how bizarre triathlon must look to a one-year-old.
T1
I had decided before the race to not hurry through my transitions. Especially with the first one, I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed. I had also decided to wear elbow pads for the bike as my right elbow is still a little tender from the fall I took in June. (I should probably get that checked out . . .) But I got suited up and out of there in a little over three minutes.
BIKE
The bike course was really fun, especially as I was riding my new 29er Specialized Rockhopper expert with clipless pedals. That thing just rolls over everything. The course was fairly flat and smooth, and it was mostly a narrow trail that wound through the woods. In that sense it was technical. Some of the turns were sharp and if you weren't careful you could easily slam into a tree. But I was careful and I had no problems. The only frustrating thing is that the trail was so narrow it could be hard to pass. I lost many minutes putting along behind slow riders waiting for a safe place to pass where the trail widened out a bit. Overall, though, I passed about eight or nine people, but probably 15 or so passed me. Clearly I need to work on my speed on the mountain bike, but speed on a mountain bike is made of three things: 1.) cardiovascular and muscular strength, 2.) handling skills, 3.) being completely insane and unafraid of grisly crashes. There's still much I can do in terms of numbers one and two but with a family and a career as a musician (who depends on his hands and arms), number three is out of the question. So be it. The most important thing is that I had a great time and I am excited about riding that bike course again next year.
T2
No problems here, just in and out. Hopefully I can get this down to about 45 seconds next year.
RUN
The run was probably my best run of the season, even though my pace wasn't that fast. It was a challenging run, with some steep hills and even a stretch through knee-deep water, but I felt strong for most of it and I ran pretty fast. I also enjoyed it, which isn't always the case with the run. The only problem I had was around mile 2.5. I was cruising along, feeling strong and buoyed up by the run into the final stretch, when all of a sudden I seized up with a very painful cramp in my right side. I literally stopped in my tracks, breathless, and walked slowly for several minutes until I recovered. This was disappointing because I probably could have made my goal of about a nine-minute mile pace, but I lost several minutes with this. I deserved it, though. I clearly remember that right before I cramped a few people passed me. My emotional state had been very high for the entire race, with clear and noble thoughts. But as I got to the end of the run and got more tired I remember feeling less charitable towards the other racers (" . . .she's fast, but she isn't that attractive . . ."). Those are shameful thoughts, but if these race reports are to mean anything, I have to be honest. I have this vision in my mind that as those thoughts crowded into my head God looked down from Her throne on a fluffy white cloud and sent a lighting bolt of cramp straight to my right side. "That'll teach him," She must have said. But I recovered and finished strong. Jessica and Madeline were waiting for me and Madeline even gave me a big smile and shouted "Da Da!"
POST RACE
In closing, I felt that this was my best race of the season in terms of smoothness and my effort level. I cranked hard and even though I wasn't wearing my HR monitor I would guess that my heart rate was in Zone 5 for almost the entire race. I came out right in the middle, 81 out of 164. That is a HUGE improvement from the previous years before I received proper training and I would place almost dead last. But most importantly I had fun. I recommend this race to anyone who wants to try an Xterra but doesn't want to deal with a dangerous and technical mountain bike course
Monday, August 10, 2009
Steelman triathlon race report
People are People and Why There’s no Such Thing as an A Race
Race Report, Steelman international-distance (Olympic) triathlon
August 9, 2009
Payton MacDonald
Pre race
The Steelman triathlon in Pennsylvania was supposed to be my A race of the season, that is, the most important race for me. The previous races were also important, but really just warm ups. Steelman was it. The big Kahuna. What I had worked for during the past ten months. Here I would prove to myself and my friends and family that getting up at 4:30 a.m. to train and watching my diet and all the money spent on triathlon would matter. This was to be my first international-distance race and I felt good going into it. My body and mind were primed and I was ready to set some PRs as I swam .9 miles, biked 24.6 miles, and ran 6.2 miles.
Jessica—as always—was supportive and cheerful about the project. Steelman is a big race, with over 1,000 athletes. Any race is a festive environment, but the bigger ones are especially so. There’s music, games, an expo, food tents, and the constant spectacle of 1,000 athletes from all walks of life, with all kinds of attitudes and gear. We booked a room at a nearby Comfort Inn and planned on bringing Madeline, our 20-month old daughter. She likes chaos (she often is chaos) and we knew she’d like the race environment.
We got to bed early the night before, and Madeline cooperated beautifully with the new sleeping environment. After jumping around on the bed like a monkey and then reading her Elmo books, she settled down nicely and we were all asleep by 9:00. I didn’t sleep that well, never do the night before a race, but I had wisely taken some good naps for a few days leading up to it, so I felt okay when I got up at 4:30. I quietly packed and then peeked outside.
It was raining.
Damn. So far I’ve been lucky and I’ve not had to race in the rain, but I knew it was just a matter of time. It wasn’t raining hard, but it was steady. I went to the lobby and the clerk told me it was supposed to get worse. When I got back to the room Jessica and I conferred and decided that it would be best if she just dropped me off at the race site and then she came back to the hotel with Madeline. This was really a bummer as the whole point of the trip was for us to be at the race as a family. The state park that hosts Steelman is beautiful and I knew she and Madeline would have had fun. And there is nothing more rewarding to me than to cross the finish line and have those two pairs of gorgeous brown eyes twinkling at me. I was disappointed and I felt bad that Jessica and Madeline had come all that way to just sit around a hotel room. But it was the best choice. There was no dry place for an active toddler at the race site.
So she dropped me off and it began.
Swim
The temperature of the lake was 78.5 F, which meant that it was not wetsuit legal. According to USAT rules, anything between 78 and 82 disqualifies competitors from winning any awards if they choose to wear a wetsuit. (Anything above 82 disqualifies anyone from the entire race). But I knew I wasn’t going to win any awards anyway, so I wore the suit. The additional buoyancy made it safer and since I trained in it and wore it for my other races I wanted to see how my pace compared.
I think I did pretty well in the swim. As usual it took me five minutes or so to really get comfortable, but I’m finally figuring out that there’s really no way around the jostling and crowded conditions at the beginning. The best thing is try to find a good line and then swim like hell. I keep my head down as much as possible when I’m not breathing so I can try to avoid a kick to the face, but basically just go for it. I’m still having trouble zig zagging too much and thus wasting a lot of precious energy, but otherwise the swim was pretty uneventful. That’s the longest I’ve ever swam in a race and I definitely felt the difference in length, but I never panicked.
T1
No problems here; in and out in pretty good time. I was pleasantly surprised to see so many bikes on my rack when I got there. The racks were organized by age group and I’m in the “animal” age group, 30–34. Endurance athletes typically peak in their early 30s, so many of the men in my group are good. There were some very experienced athletes on my bike rack, sporting $10,000 bikes and boasting of completing hundreds of races.
On thing I remember about T1 is that one of the other guys who got there around the same time I did was having some trouble with his leg cramping. I had some anti-cramping cream with me, so I dug around in my bag and tossed it to him. I probably lost 20 seconds doing that, but I didn’t even think about it at the time; I was just glad to help him out. I like doing things like that when I’m racing.
Bike
Here things began to unravel and I saw some of the best and worst of my colleagues on the course. Notice that I don’t call them competitors. They’re colleagues. We’re all in this to better ourselves, not to beat each other. Professional triathletes are different of course because winning translates to earnings which translates to food on the table. But for recreational athletes the attitude is different. It must be. Even if I win my age group or even the entire race, so what? Does anyone else in the world care? Am I going to solve any of the world’s problems? We can try to beat our own PRs and we can use other folks on the course as markers to pace or to pass, but spending even one second thinking about “beating” (such a violent word, isn’t it?) someone and “winning” is a waste of energy.
By this time the rain had intensified and now it was dumping. I climbed the first hill pretty well and soon enough I was out on the highway (which was thankfully closed to traffic) and bombing along at 24 mph. Within the first mile I hooted out a war cry and screamed “It’s raining, and I’m racing!!” I had a huge grin on my face.
This continued for the next six miles and then a STP (Super Triathlon Person) passed me and told me my rear memory lock was loose. Huh? I looked down and back and the lock that holds my rear axle in place was indeed loose. Holy cow, that’s dangerous! I thanked the guy who mentioned it to me and immediately stopped and fixed it. I have no idea how it became loose, but perhaps the rain had something to do with it. I was back at it in less than a minute, though, and making great time, but around mile eight I heard someone coming from behind and screaming at me. I thought he said he was passing me on the right, but because it was raining so hard I couldn’t hear him that well and I wasn’t sure.
“RIGHT!!! RIGHT!!! GET TO THE F@$#ING RIGHT SO I CAN PASS YOU!!! %#$&$%!!!”
Ah, now I understood. I was riding towards the middle of the road because it was sloped slightly towards the shoulder and there was less standing water in the middle. Of course, normally I would ride more towards the right because according to USAT rules you should only be on the left if you’re passing. But at this point the course wasn’t very crowded and there was plenty of space to pass on either side. Technically, this guy was correct. I was at fault for riding in the middle. But under the circumstances (dumping rain, not crowded), his behavior was really shameful. I mean, he could have asked nicely. So I moved to the right and he passed me while continuing to swear at me. I thought about speeding up to him and getting his number so that I could report him (he would have been disqualified from the entire race), but figured his life was probably a trainwreck anyway and his bad karma would play out in other ways. The irony of the situation is that after he passed me he only stayed ahead of me by 10 yards or so. I would have easily passed him if my luck had been better that day.
That experience really left a bad feeling in my stomach, and was especially jolting after the good sportsmanship displayed by my colleague who alerted me to the loose memory lock. As I sped along in the rain I thought a lot about people and their behavior. Why are some people so ungracious? And why is it that one’s personal demeanor may or may not bear any correlation to one’s accomplishments in other ways? This guy was clearly a real jerk, but maybe he spent his days as a pediatric surgeon saving children’s lives. Or maybe not. Maybe he was a greedy Wall Street lawyer whose only God is money. Who knows. But the first scenario isn’t improbable. Over and over again I meet people like that, especially in the arts. They’re good at what they do, and contribute greatly to the overall human project, but in terms of human relations they’re selfish, ugly, and abusive.
These thoughts occupied my mind as I kept speeding along through the dumping rain. I made the second turnaround and then something on the bike felt strange. I felt the rear tire slipping a bit. I had hit a big pothole about a half a mile back and I knew immediately what had happened. I had a flat tire.
With a groan and a sigh I pulled off the road and surveyed the damage. Yep, flat tire. I turned my bike over and took the wheel off. I found this easier to do if I took my glasses off, as they were so wet I could see better without them on, despite my nearsightedness (the wet glasses were problem when I was riding, too). I had changed one of my tires before, but doing it in a dry basement was a lot different than in the pouring rain on the side of a road. As the summer has progressed and I haven’t suffered a flat tire I keep thinking that I should take a day and change a tire a few times just to practice, but I always procrastinate on that aspect of race preparation. It’s much more fun to ride the bike than to fix it. That line of thinking is a mistake and it cost me this race.
Fortunately I was smart enough to be carrying a spare tube and a CO2 cartridge. It took me a long time to get the new tube and tire reseated, much longer than it should, but after mucking with it for 15 or 20 minutes I finally got it. Then I took out the CO2 cartridge. It took me a minute to figure out how to work it, but once I did it worked fine. The only problem was that I hadn’t seated the inner tube perfectly and there was a bulge that popped out when the tire inflated. But that was it. I didn’t have another CO2 cartridge.
Between the rain, the unsportsmanlike behavior I described earlier, and the flat, I was pretty discouraged, but during the time I was fiddling with the tire at least 20 people rode by me and asked if I needed help. That cheered me up considerably and improved my opinion of my colleagues a great deal. I politely refused their offers as I was determined to fix it myself. But after screwing up with the first cartridge and having no extras I realized I needed to accept some help.
“Need any help?” asked an older gentleman riding a Specialized.
“Yes! Do you have any extra CO2?”
“No problem,” he said as he pulled over. I ran up to him and we got it out of his bag. I took note of his number and thanked him profusely.
“No problem, and good luck,” he said as he sped away. Between stopping and the fact that we were at the bottom of the hill he must have lost at least a minute or two of time.
Unfortunately, though, this cartridge didn’t work that well. I couldn’t get it to release enough air, so even though I now had the tube seated correctly it never inflated properly. I didn’t feel right about stopping yet another racer, so I decided then to call the race. I had spent at least 30 minutes or so trying to fix the flat at this point and knew it was over. This is what it came to after ten months of training. A flat tire. That’s a hard pill to swallow.
I put the wheel back on and rode four miles into T2 at about 10 mph. Since I only did one bike loop I knew I would be disqualified from the race, but what could I do? I figured I could at least try to run hard and see how my pace was in the run and swim.
T2
In and out very quickly, no problems. The stacked brick workouts that Keith gives me are really paying off. I had no trouble transitioning into my shoes and my legs felt good going into the run.
Run
As of this morning they still haven’t posted the times to the race, so I’m not sure how I did in terms of numbers, but I felt pretty strong. 6.2 miles is a long ways for me; I’m not a strong runner. I stopped three times and walked briskly to let my heart rate settle a bit and stave off a cramp in my side, but otherwise I ran well. I find that the hardest part of the race is about two thirds of the way through the run. At that point I start feeling very tired and it really becomes a mental struggle to keep moving my feet forward. My form suffers and I know I start to shuffle, but it's tough. In retrospect, those are some of the most powerful moments of the race. Those are the moments athletes talk about when they say things like “digging deep.” That phrase is very accurate. There really is a sense that all the available reserves have been used up and you've got to look a little bit further into yourself to make it to the end. It’s very much like those epic practice sessions I’ve done in the past where I go for months putting seven or eight hours a day on my instrument, ignoring everything and everyone and pushing hard at the perceived limits of my potential.
Post race
So this was supposed to be my A race, the one where all those hours of training would come into focus and I would shine. But I got a flat tire. Even if I had known how to fix the tire better, my bike time would still have been off by at least 10 minutes or so. I thought about this a lot as I was running and I came to the conclusion that for me, there is no such thing as an A race. In my other life as a professional musician every performance is important. We have a phrase in the music community: every performance is an audition. Whether you're playing at Carnegie Hall for 2,000 people or at some dingy bar for six drunks, you always play your best. You never know who might be listening. I like to take it even further. Every musical moment is magical. Why would I ever get behind my instrument and not play every note with as much soul and depth of feeling as possible? Even in the practice room, I try to make every note I play count. And when I'm on stage—no matter where—I lay it all on the line and play as if it's the last concert I will ever play.
Triathlon is no different. I suppose if I were an elite athlete doing this professionally and I had to be careful about not straining muscles, then some races I might just cruise along and not try that hard. I would just get my body loose and ready for the big day. But I’m not an elite athlete and I never will be. I am proudly a recreational athlete and although I take triathlon very seriously, I always know it is part of the bigger picture of my life in general. So for me, every race is an A race. From the second that gun goes off I'm going to let the big dog rip and go for it.
After the race I found the race director and told him about the gentleman who gave me the CO2 cartridge. When he was making the announcements of the winners he had a special category for folks who had done some unusual things. One guy got a race belt for being the oldest guy to finish the race at 71 years old. The gentleman who helped me also got a race belt for good sportsmanship. I learned something from that. From now on I will always carry three CO2 cartridges. One for me, and at least one or two for someone else who might need it.
Race Report, Steelman international-distance (Olympic) triathlon
August 9, 2009
Payton MacDonald
Pre race
The Steelman triathlon in Pennsylvania was supposed to be my A race of the season, that is, the most important race for me. The previous races were also important, but really just warm ups. Steelman was it. The big Kahuna. What I had worked for during the past ten months. Here I would prove to myself and my friends and family that getting up at 4:30 a.m. to train and watching my diet and all the money spent on triathlon would matter. This was to be my first international-distance race and I felt good going into it. My body and mind were primed and I was ready to set some PRs as I swam .9 miles, biked 24.6 miles, and ran 6.2 miles.
Jessica—as always—was supportive and cheerful about the project. Steelman is a big race, with over 1,000 athletes. Any race is a festive environment, but the bigger ones are especially so. There’s music, games, an expo, food tents, and the constant spectacle of 1,000 athletes from all walks of life, with all kinds of attitudes and gear. We booked a room at a nearby Comfort Inn and planned on bringing Madeline, our 20-month old daughter. She likes chaos (she often is chaos) and we knew she’d like the race environment.
We got to bed early the night before, and Madeline cooperated beautifully with the new sleeping environment. After jumping around on the bed like a monkey and then reading her Elmo books, she settled down nicely and we were all asleep by 9:00. I didn’t sleep that well, never do the night before a race, but I had wisely taken some good naps for a few days leading up to it, so I felt okay when I got up at 4:30. I quietly packed and then peeked outside.
It was raining.
Damn. So far I’ve been lucky and I’ve not had to race in the rain, but I knew it was just a matter of time. It wasn’t raining hard, but it was steady. I went to the lobby and the clerk told me it was supposed to get worse. When I got back to the room Jessica and I conferred and decided that it would be best if she just dropped me off at the race site and then she came back to the hotel with Madeline. This was really a bummer as the whole point of the trip was for us to be at the race as a family. The state park that hosts Steelman is beautiful and I knew she and Madeline would have had fun. And there is nothing more rewarding to me than to cross the finish line and have those two pairs of gorgeous brown eyes twinkling at me. I was disappointed and I felt bad that Jessica and Madeline had come all that way to just sit around a hotel room. But it was the best choice. There was no dry place for an active toddler at the race site.
So she dropped me off and it began.
Swim
The temperature of the lake was 78.5 F, which meant that it was not wetsuit legal. According to USAT rules, anything between 78 and 82 disqualifies competitors from winning any awards if they choose to wear a wetsuit. (Anything above 82 disqualifies anyone from the entire race). But I knew I wasn’t going to win any awards anyway, so I wore the suit. The additional buoyancy made it safer and since I trained in it and wore it for my other races I wanted to see how my pace compared.
I think I did pretty well in the swim. As usual it took me five minutes or so to really get comfortable, but I’m finally figuring out that there’s really no way around the jostling and crowded conditions at the beginning. The best thing is try to find a good line and then swim like hell. I keep my head down as much as possible when I’m not breathing so I can try to avoid a kick to the face, but basically just go for it. I’m still having trouble zig zagging too much and thus wasting a lot of precious energy, but otherwise the swim was pretty uneventful. That’s the longest I’ve ever swam in a race and I definitely felt the difference in length, but I never panicked.
T1
No problems here; in and out in pretty good time. I was pleasantly surprised to see so many bikes on my rack when I got there. The racks were organized by age group and I’m in the “animal” age group, 30–34. Endurance athletes typically peak in their early 30s, so many of the men in my group are good. There were some very experienced athletes on my bike rack, sporting $10,000 bikes and boasting of completing hundreds of races.
On thing I remember about T1 is that one of the other guys who got there around the same time I did was having some trouble with his leg cramping. I had some anti-cramping cream with me, so I dug around in my bag and tossed it to him. I probably lost 20 seconds doing that, but I didn’t even think about it at the time; I was just glad to help him out. I like doing things like that when I’m racing.
Bike
Here things began to unravel and I saw some of the best and worst of my colleagues on the course. Notice that I don’t call them competitors. They’re colleagues. We’re all in this to better ourselves, not to beat each other. Professional triathletes are different of course because winning translates to earnings which translates to food on the table. But for recreational athletes the attitude is different. It must be. Even if I win my age group or even the entire race, so what? Does anyone else in the world care? Am I going to solve any of the world’s problems? We can try to beat our own PRs and we can use other folks on the course as markers to pace or to pass, but spending even one second thinking about “beating” (such a violent word, isn’t it?) someone and “winning” is a waste of energy.
By this time the rain had intensified and now it was dumping. I climbed the first hill pretty well and soon enough I was out on the highway (which was thankfully closed to traffic) and bombing along at 24 mph. Within the first mile I hooted out a war cry and screamed “It’s raining, and I’m racing!!” I had a huge grin on my face.
This continued for the next six miles and then a STP (Super Triathlon Person) passed me and told me my rear memory lock was loose. Huh? I looked down and back and the lock that holds my rear axle in place was indeed loose. Holy cow, that’s dangerous! I thanked the guy who mentioned it to me and immediately stopped and fixed it. I have no idea how it became loose, but perhaps the rain had something to do with it. I was back at it in less than a minute, though, and making great time, but around mile eight I heard someone coming from behind and screaming at me. I thought he said he was passing me on the right, but because it was raining so hard I couldn’t hear him that well and I wasn’t sure.
“RIGHT!!! RIGHT!!! GET TO THE F@$#ING RIGHT SO I CAN PASS YOU!!! %#$&$%!!!”
Ah, now I understood. I was riding towards the middle of the road because it was sloped slightly towards the shoulder and there was less standing water in the middle. Of course, normally I would ride more towards the right because according to USAT rules you should only be on the left if you’re passing. But at this point the course wasn’t very crowded and there was plenty of space to pass on either side. Technically, this guy was correct. I was at fault for riding in the middle. But under the circumstances (dumping rain, not crowded), his behavior was really shameful. I mean, he could have asked nicely. So I moved to the right and he passed me while continuing to swear at me. I thought about speeding up to him and getting his number so that I could report him (he would have been disqualified from the entire race), but figured his life was probably a trainwreck anyway and his bad karma would play out in other ways. The irony of the situation is that after he passed me he only stayed ahead of me by 10 yards or so. I would have easily passed him if my luck had been better that day.
That experience really left a bad feeling in my stomach, and was especially jolting after the good sportsmanship displayed by my colleague who alerted me to the loose memory lock. As I sped along in the rain I thought a lot about people and their behavior. Why are some people so ungracious? And why is it that one’s personal demeanor may or may not bear any correlation to one’s accomplishments in other ways? This guy was clearly a real jerk, but maybe he spent his days as a pediatric surgeon saving children’s lives. Or maybe not. Maybe he was a greedy Wall Street lawyer whose only God is money. Who knows. But the first scenario isn’t improbable. Over and over again I meet people like that, especially in the arts. They’re good at what they do, and contribute greatly to the overall human project, but in terms of human relations they’re selfish, ugly, and abusive.
These thoughts occupied my mind as I kept speeding along through the dumping rain. I made the second turnaround and then something on the bike felt strange. I felt the rear tire slipping a bit. I had hit a big pothole about a half a mile back and I knew immediately what had happened. I had a flat tire.
With a groan and a sigh I pulled off the road and surveyed the damage. Yep, flat tire. I turned my bike over and took the wheel off. I found this easier to do if I took my glasses off, as they were so wet I could see better without them on, despite my nearsightedness (the wet glasses were problem when I was riding, too). I had changed one of my tires before, but doing it in a dry basement was a lot different than in the pouring rain on the side of a road. As the summer has progressed and I haven’t suffered a flat tire I keep thinking that I should take a day and change a tire a few times just to practice, but I always procrastinate on that aspect of race preparation. It’s much more fun to ride the bike than to fix it. That line of thinking is a mistake and it cost me this race.
Fortunately I was smart enough to be carrying a spare tube and a CO2 cartridge. It took me a long time to get the new tube and tire reseated, much longer than it should, but after mucking with it for 15 or 20 minutes I finally got it. Then I took out the CO2 cartridge. It took me a minute to figure out how to work it, but once I did it worked fine. The only problem was that I hadn’t seated the inner tube perfectly and there was a bulge that popped out when the tire inflated. But that was it. I didn’t have another CO2 cartridge.
Between the rain, the unsportsmanlike behavior I described earlier, and the flat, I was pretty discouraged, but during the time I was fiddling with the tire at least 20 people rode by me and asked if I needed help. That cheered me up considerably and improved my opinion of my colleagues a great deal. I politely refused their offers as I was determined to fix it myself. But after screwing up with the first cartridge and having no extras I realized I needed to accept some help.
“Need any help?” asked an older gentleman riding a Specialized.
“Yes! Do you have any extra CO2?”
“No problem,” he said as he pulled over. I ran up to him and we got it out of his bag. I took note of his number and thanked him profusely.
“No problem, and good luck,” he said as he sped away. Between stopping and the fact that we were at the bottom of the hill he must have lost at least a minute or two of time.
Unfortunately, though, this cartridge didn’t work that well. I couldn’t get it to release enough air, so even though I now had the tube seated correctly it never inflated properly. I didn’t feel right about stopping yet another racer, so I decided then to call the race. I had spent at least 30 minutes or so trying to fix the flat at this point and knew it was over. This is what it came to after ten months of training. A flat tire. That’s a hard pill to swallow.
I put the wheel back on and rode four miles into T2 at about 10 mph. Since I only did one bike loop I knew I would be disqualified from the race, but what could I do? I figured I could at least try to run hard and see how my pace was in the run and swim.
T2
In and out very quickly, no problems. The stacked brick workouts that Keith gives me are really paying off. I had no trouble transitioning into my shoes and my legs felt good going into the run.
Run
As of this morning they still haven’t posted the times to the race, so I’m not sure how I did in terms of numbers, but I felt pretty strong. 6.2 miles is a long ways for me; I’m not a strong runner. I stopped three times and walked briskly to let my heart rate settle a bit and stave off a cramp in my side, but otherwise I ran well. I find that the hardest part of the race is about two thirds of the way through the run. At that point I start feeling very tired and it really becomes a mental struggle to keep moving my feet forward. My form suffers and I know I start to shuffle, but it's tough. In retrospect, those are some of the most powerful moments of the race. Those are the moments athletes talk about when they say things like “digging deep.” That phrase is very accurate. There really is a sense that all the available reserves have been used up and you've got to look a little bit further into yourself to make it to the end. It’s very much like those epic practice sessions I’ve done in the past where I go for months putting seven or eight hours a day on my instrument, ignoring everything and everyone and pushing hard at the perceived limits of my potential.
Post race
So this was supposed to be my A race, the one where all those hours of training would come into focus and I would shine. But I got a flat tire. Even if I had known how to fix the tire better, my bike time would still have been off by at least 10 minutes or so. I thought about this a lot as I was running and I came to the conclusion that for me, there is no such thing as an A race. In my other life as a professional musician every performance is important. We have a phrase in the music community: every performance is an audition. Whether you're playing at Carnegie Hall for 2,000 people or at some dingy bar for six drunks, you always play your best. You never know who might be listening. I like to take it even further. Every musical moment is magical. Why would I ever get behind my instrument and not play every note with as much soul and depth of feeling as possible? Even in the practice room, I try to make every note I play count. And when I'm on stage—no matter where—I lay it all on the line and play as if it's the last concert I will ever play.
Triathlon is no different. I suppose if I were an elite athlete doing this professionally and I had to be careful about not straining muscles, then some races I might just cruise along and not try that hard. I would just get my body loose and ready for the big day. But I’m not an elite athlete and I never will be. I am proudly a recreational athlete and although I take triathlon very seriously, I always know it is part of the bigger picture of my life in general. So for me, every race is an A race. From the second that gun goes off I'm going to let the big dog rip and go for it.
After the race I found the race director and told him about the gentleman who gave me the CO2 cartridge. When he was making the announcements of the winners he had a special category for folks who had done some unusual things. One guy got a race belt for being the oldest guy to finish the race at 71 years old. The gentleman who helped me also got a race belt for good sportsmanship. I learned something from that. From now on I will always carry three CO2 cartridges. One for me, and at least one or two for someone else who might need it.
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