The year’s first triathlon happened two weeks after I ran the TBR Dream Marathon.   I had enough swimming and biking to do the standard distances (and obviously the run wasn’t going to be a problem).  But I wasn’t in race shape.   So I went to Subic with very little expectation and a lot of anticipation — I was going to be a triathlete again!

We got to Subic the day before and did a quick ride around the course and a swim.  Like in last year’s 70.3, it hit me that people would go out tomorrow to close the roads, manage the cars, and watch out for my and my fellow triathletes’ safety. How lucky could I be?   In triathlon much like in life, to move from a sense of fullness is always a good place to start.

On race day, the sky was dark and the water was cold.  We waited for the sun to come out a little more and then we were off.  As in all of us age-groupers were sent off in one big wave.  The swim was tight.  I got sandwiched from both sides and blocked in front right.  I swerved to the extreme left to try to get past the chaos and found myself behind a team mate. I followed his legs for 100 meters and then started to get this sense that we were alone. I looked around under water and no one was around. I sighted above water and saw the kayak coming near us. We had drifted too far off course.   I got back on course and it got tight again.  I got jostled, kicked, scratched by someone’s wrist tag, and dunked by someone’s stroke right on top of my head.  It didn’t ruin the experience for me. Many things happen in race day that aren’t planned for.  The best way to deal with it is to just go with it and enjoy whatever comes along.  A friend just said recently that triathlon and running has made her a better person.  I guess this is one of the life skills that triathlon teaches: to roll with the punches (sometimes literally) and enjoy the journey.

We did two loops on the swim. And in both loops I drifted off course. Hay.  I got out at 36 minutes and headed to transition. One of the longest transitions in my life. It felt like it took me 3 minutes to run from the swim to where my bike was. By the time I got there, team mates who are normally just behind me in the swim were already all in transition.

The bike course was fast and fun.  I enjoyed the wind in my face and the sound of the aero wheels on the flat roads of Subic. I didn’t have my bike fitness and felt that I was faster last year. I promised myself that I’d work on that.  I finished the 40k in 1:18 and it was back to that long transition.  I hopped of my bike, leaving the shoes on the pedals, so I could run to my spot in transition. I looked at my watch. It said I had been going for 1:50.

There are some moments in a race that really stand out.  Looking at my watch then was one of them. It seems like things were going in slow motion. Thing seemed very clear including the thought in my head: I had an hour to run 10k.  And if I did that I could finally come in under 3 hours — a fitness goal I had hoped to achieve in my lifetime.  Could I do it today?

There was only one way to find out.  Doing a 10k in an hour meant a 6 mins/k pace.  My marathon pace was 6:30/k — that’s what my legs were currently trained to do.   I did some speed work and new I could run under 6 mins/k. But to run it after the bike was the question.  The last time I went for my best 10k in a standard distance tri, I came in at 52 minutes and it hurt.  So as I started the run, the real question for me was how much I was willing to hurt.

I went for it.   I ran a fast comfortable pace in the start — fast enough that I had to focus but not so fast that nothing was left for the end.  By 5k, it started to get hot and my quads started to tighten up.  Here comes the pain I thought. But rather than focusing on it, I focused on my breathing or on keeping my shoulders relaxed.  The cramps didn’t get worse and I found myself catching up with the team mates who were all ahead of me. I must be doing something right so I kept on going. By 7k my hamstrings started to tighten and I started breathing harder.  I focused on what I could control: breathing, form, and cadence.  I kept my thoughts and emotions in check: just keep on going, focus on maintaining this speed.

 

I came in at 2:50 — finally breaking 3 hours in a standard distance triathlon.