Chelanman Olympic Triathlon Race Report: 6/16/11

  A slight chill and a beautiful sunrise greeted my wife, Kendra, and I as we hopped in the car for the drive north to Chelan. The day before, we made the trip over to check my bike in and get my registration packet. Given the magnitude of the Chelanman multisport weekend, triathletes need to leave bikes overnight. I was suffering from separation anxiety as we drove away, but I was comforted by the close proximity of a few more expensive bikes. A big shout out to Trek for the pricing of their top-tier Speed Concept. 

  We left in time to make it into Lakeside Park, the race venue, about an hour before the transition zone would close for my race, 15min before the 7:30am race start. I raced here two years ago, and remembered that it would be a busy morning. I found my bike snuggled beneath the all-weather blanket that I'd left to protect it, and immediately set about setting up my transition zone. 

Here's a shot of the swim start taken from when I raced this event two years prior. 

  I've been commuting by bike each morning, and during the week prior to the race, I set up my race shoes on my bike with rubber bands as practice for race day. I'd worked out all the kinks and hurried to get everything adjusted before heading to the swim start. All other pre-race rituals went smoothly. Not to make things too personal, but using the restroom prior to a race is an art form, and I've just about mastered it (hubris like this would get me in trouble during the race, when I would make amateurish mistakes during the bike that would cost me some time). 

   Heading over to the swim start, I found my way over the first timing mat (important!) and was getting my goggles adjusted when my Mom found me. My wonderful parents had driven over from western WA to watch the race, and my Dad would even be rocking the 10km run that started about half-way into my event. He was currently helping my wife find parking, a daunting task at this event that I strongly suggest you scout out the day before. 

  She had the anti-fog that my Dad had brought and also produced a Dr. Pepper when I asked if she had something to quench my thirst. The pre-race hydration tables either weren't set-up or I missed them, and I happily took a few swigs, swishing it around to release the carbonation before swallowing.    

   Looking out at the swim course, it seemed quite long. I've learned that if a course seems long, it's probably accurate, and if it seems about right, then it's short (this is something I've observed and also learned from Roger Thompson ). At the very least, it didn't seem the 0.3mi shorter than the half-iron course with which it shared most all of the buoys. A long swim, if it was one, would usually be cause for celebration, but my lack of swim prep in the previous season of training meant that I wouldn't be as competitive. Regardless, Lake Chelan remained the best open water I've ever had the privilege to dip into. Chilly but not cold and bottled-water clear. 

   The countdown for my wave, the first one, was on and I dove into the water. Seeded at the front of the field , I took a direct line to the buoy to try to pick up the line that connected one. This would make for effortless sighting, and I found it mid-way along the out section. Steeped in luxury, I would sight along the orange cord as I finished the swim. 

  My mind did its best to order my body to enact the form that I've studied and tried to drill into myself. I knew that one guy got away fast and another went by on an outside line, so I figured I was sitting in about 3rd place. There was a slight bit of chop and a few swells from distant boat traffic, but the swim was gentle as we took a loop out and wrapped around the park to the other side to come out along the beach. 

  During the last 200 yards or so, another swimmer suddenly pulled up alongside me. I'd had the presence of mind during the swim to surge randomly and then stop kicking (to eliminate bubbles), in an effort to drop anyone who might be catching a ride in my wake. I wasn't going to swerve away from the buoy line, though, so I focused on swimming my own race. 

   My new friend and I had two things in common: we each apparently appreciated the effortless style of a sleeveless-wetsuit, and we weren't afraid to get physical as each wanted to occupy the space over the beloved buoy line while traveling the same speed. We brought it in to the shore at the same time, but a better-timed exit from the water had me out and into transition first. 

My wife is infamous for hilariously unintentional backwards-compliments, once remarking in complete honesty that I'm, "more attractive in dim light." She told me after the race that she took pictures of me during the swim (the ones posted just above while I was in the water), but didn't think it was me because the guys' arms (mine) were too big...

Goggles and swim cap off immediately, I'd start peeling off the top of my wetsuit as I ran to my transition spot. 

Strip off suit, glasses on, helmet on, GO!!!

I run off with my bike as a relay competitor looks on nonplussed 

Running through the transition zone and up a short, somewhat steep grass embankment, I mounted my bike and took off. 

Unfortunately, I chose the flying-mount style in the heat of the moment and dislodged my flat kit, which has insufficiently taped to the bracket I mounted to my saddle rails. It caught on the velcro strap that I'd cinched on as a back-up, so I decided to risk it and take off as it seemed like it would hold. Unfortunately, it didn't and came off a few miles into the ride. I heard the sound, swore once, looped back, picked it up and hammered off. After holding it dumbly for a minute or two, I put it in my tri-suit pocket. In the future I'll have it better secured. 

  I like the bike course because it's fair, with a middle hilly section that will keep everyone honest. I knew that the hills would slow down my average pace, so I tried to keep it fast at the start but didn't press the uphills. I was going by a number of half-iron athletes (and rightly so, they had a very tough ride ahead of them), which prompted my one criticism of this race. With an out-and-back course on roads open to traffic, there was again congestion near the turnaround point that had me squeezing between a line of cars on my left and half-iron triathletes to my right. Not an ideal scenario, and the responsible thing would've been to hang behind the cars and take the hit to my time but I wasn't about to slow down when there was space to progress with a modicum of safety. 

The bike course aid-station is situated on top of the largest hill. I had an expert hand-off from a volunteer to grab some Gatorade, of which I chugged as much as I could and then tossed towards the big trash crate. It skipped off the rim and I was able to yell back and thank the volunteer that chased after it as I kept speeding along (I try to thank each volunteer that I see, even if only a wave during the run, as they really make the race happen. The volunteers at this race were phenomenal, and I was very flattered to receive a lot of cheers as I raced along in 3rd place). 

My nutrition for the race, with the exception of my pre-swim Dr. Pepper, was all taken on the bike. I had a gatorade laced with a Hammer Nutrition Endurolyte fizz tablet and a Hammer Energy Gel that I grabbed at the aid station on the return trip (great hand off again by one of the awesome volunteers). I also had a big pull of Gatorade from the bottle that I grabbed coming into the aid station. 

Going into the turnaround, I signaled to cyclists behind me that I was turning, shifted into an easier gear to accelerate out of the turn, and made the sharp bend. An Olympic distance racer (second overall) was making the turn immediately in front of me but he went quite wide so I made it through ahead. Once past, I heard an unfortunate clunk of a mishift and an expletive to signal that he hadn't shifted before going into the turn. He would more then compensate, though, motoring past me on the subsequent uphills. I would pass back (going wide, no drafting!) on the downhills and flats, though, and we ended up coming into transition right near each other. 

Weight on your left leg, flag your right foot out, brake, hop off and RUN!!!

My flat kit jumps ship again (!), leaping from my pocket and causing me to stop, reverse, and grab it. I cursed myself out for making such amateurish moves (although, I'm not a professional so I guess it's fitting) and ran through transition. 

Rack bike, helmet off, slide on pre-rolled socks, slip-on shoes, grab number belt and GO!!!

Running off the bike is a strange sensation. I felt like I had a great stride, but I definitely felt the bike leg in my muscles. I focused on a good turnover as I ran around the park and out onto the run course, which was an out-and-back along the same lakeside road as the bike. 

  Heading out onto the run, I knew that I was in third place after my 'riding buddy' and I were passed in the final two miles. Given that there was a wave start, I wouldn't know what my final, overall position would be, but it was exciting to be racing in third and to have all of the spectators and fellow athletes (the 10km and half-marathon runners were coming in on the same course) cheering me along and congratulating me. I was really enjoying the support and thanks to everyone who was out there if you end up reading this. 

  Either way, I was racing to keep my current position. I set about maintaining a solid pace to the turnaround point and then, after making the turn and throwing in the surge, ran only about 100 yards before I saw a chain of fast guys absolutely flying towards me. The situation was serious and I knew I was in jeopardy so I kicked it into high gear, ratcheting up the discomfort in an attempt to hold off my chasers. 

Coming back towards transition, there's short uphill, a left turn, a slight bend, and then a long straightaway to the finish. Coming into the final mile and straight section, my mind flashed to the book I was reading, The Perfect Mile, which chronicles Roger Bannister and John Landy's attempts to break the 4-minute mile. Bannister trained while in medical school and is a big inspiration for me, so I drew on that to push myself harder as I surged towards the finish. 

 As the road reaches Lakeside Park, it becomes a short, steep uphill that is brutal at this stage of the race. Once you crest it, though, it's a short, steep, downhill finishing straight. I knew that if I could reach the top without getting passed, I could use my leg turnover to fly down the hill and make it in to the finish as the third finisher. About a quarter mile out from the hill, I chanced a glance behind me... and saw another triathlete flying along in pursuit. I was up against it now, but I was going to bury myself before I was going to get passed this late in the race. Throwing myself forward, I reached the hill still ahead and went deep into anaerobic energy reserves to make it to the top. Still having no clue where the racer was behind me, I hurtled forward grimacing and sprinted towards the finish. 

Exhausted, I stumbled across the tape and promptly sat in the grass. Kind volunteers handed me a gatorade and my finisher's medal as the announcer rang out that I was the third olympic racer to finish. Though I greatly enjoyed racing in third, my net place, I would soon find out, was 10th overall of the 500 racers out competing. 10th may not be 3rd, but I was thrilled with the result and quite happy to take first in my age group. 

Group photo with my amazing wife (wrapped in my Dad's jacket) and wonderful parents. Congrats to my Dad for a big PR in the 10km!

With my legs stiffening, I walked down to the water for my absolute favorite post-race tradition. The sun would come out and I simply sat there, totally content with my race and enraptured by the view. 

Thanks to Chelanman's awesome organizers for the excellent, logo-emblazoned metal water bottle prize. 

A perfect finish to the race was a trip to the nearby Tsillan Cellar's Sorrento's Ristorante, with a gourmet lunch on their beautiful grounds a sampling of their fine, award-winning wines. They even had a 10% discount for Chelanman racers!

The view inside, the wine tasting bar is left of the image. 

This bathroom easily podium'd as one of the best bathrooms I've been in. I was impressed. 

The race wasn't all that the weekend had in store, 'active recovery' took on a new meaning as Kendra and I met up with one of my best friends from college, Joel, his beautiful girlfriend, Rebeccah, and Joel's awesome family. Country Boy's BBQ in Cashmere, WA (the ribs were insane) was also a highlight.

As was a great porter at Icicle Brewing Company in Leavenworth courtesy of my great friend.