As, the warm smell of cracked wheat wafts past my nose, I reach into the cupboard and pull down 2 Multi-Vitamins, Omega III Fish Oil, and 2 Glucosamine tablets and fling them into my mouth.  I force a glass toward the beam of blue light and into the filtered water dispenser.  Once it is half full, I toss in a tablespoon of Metamucil, stir and swallow the gritty mix with all of the vitamins that I was just beginning to taste on my tongue.  My eyes are beginning to open more widely as the bell on the toaster oven dings.  The cooked bread is warm to the touch and melts the whipped butter as I spread it.  Crunch, Crunch, Crunch…breakfast is half over.  With calories, I gain my wits.  To complete my routine, there is only one thing left to do… I am moving quickly now, down the hall to the laundry room to the little refrigerator.  There, waiting inside… a Low Carb Monster Energy Drink.  TSHHHHH, Glug, Glug, Glug, AHHHHHHH! 

OK… I know… That was a lot of DRAMA, but hopefully mildly entertaining, as well. So I loaded the car with all that I needed for the race, and away I went!

When I arrived, the parking lot at the JCC was really full.  After finding a spot, un-racking my bike and grabbing my gear, I headed toward the Transition Area (TA).  As I got closer, I began noticing that there weren’t very many people in transition, nonetheless, I found a great spot to rack my bike and drop my gear.  I could hear someone speaking through a speaker system and followed the sound to… Holy Crap!  Where did all of these people come from?  I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see this many people at the race, probably triple the number from the F1 I had just done weeks before, all of whom were being very quiet and listening to the pre-race meeting.  Hmmm.  The pre-race meeting?  I made my way through the crowd to the registration desk.  No one there.  So I proceeded to the chip timing desk, and said, “I’m here to register for the race.”  The young gal I was talking to gave me a puzzled look and said, “Registration closed 10 minutes ago.”  I looked at my watch and realized I was late… really late.  I quickly gathered myself, and responded, “Don’t worry… I’m ok.”  The young girl gave me an inquisitive look, so I continued, “The Hummer is totaled, but somehow I managed to walk away from it unscathed.”  Her face changed to one of genuine concern, “Oh, my gosh… are you serious?” she exclaimed.  “No,” I said.  “But will you allow me to register, based on my great little story?”  She frowned, shook her head and helped me register. 

Dave and Windy had raced in the Monsoon Adventure Race, the day before, but Dave said he would be at my race.  With about 15 minutes to start, I saw him.  Additionally, my wife Vickie had a 13 mile run on her training schedule, turns out it is 13 miles from my front door to the JCC, so she ran to the race, arriving shortly after Dave.

This race would be a 400yard pool swim, a 12 mile bike and a 2 mile run.  This would be my 2^nd triathlon but 1^st in a standard format.  If you remember my last race report, the 1^st triathlon I did was a double.

 As I neared my start time, I was feeling good, no jitters.  In my head I kept saying to myself, “Self, go out slow in the swim, save your self for the bike.”  Simple, right?  Then the race voice kicked in and a Steve Prefontaine quote began playing over and over in my head, “The best pace is a suicide pace, and today is a good day to die!” So as these two conflicting points were consuming my mind, I headed back to the registration table. 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – Go!  I was off and swimming.  The 1^st 2 lengths of the pool were a blur… unfortunately there were 8 more to go.  During the 3^rd length, my breathing was out of control, and I began slowing down and then finished each length with a 10-20 second pause between each one.  I could hear Dave and Vickie cheering… but also telling me to stop, stopping and keep swimming.  As I finished the last lap, my time was about 1 minute slower than my goal… At this point experience kicks in, and you know that “what’s done is done,” still plenty of race left and the bike is next.  Move your ASS and get to the bike!

90 seconds…Damn another slow transition, but now I have to focus, and block out the pain…

1^st from pushing so hard on the bike and 2^nd form the pounding my knee would have to take for the next 2 miles.  I headed out onto the run, feeling the muscles in my legs adjusting from the bike, and knowing my race was almost complete.  Each half mile I felt stronger, and I was able to pass a few runners before the turn at the half way point.  With ¾ of a mile to go, I could feel someone pressing me, could hear them breathing and their steps.  As he pulled next to me and then by me, I tried to get in behind him, match his stride and stay with him.  But I could only stay there for about a ¼ mile, and I had to relent.  This is who I am right now, and to this point I knew I had pushed with everything inside of me to get to this place, there would be other races and more time to notch more training under my belt.  For now I had to let him go.  The good news is, he did pull me forward and I was able to pass runners while striding behind him and closed and passed 2 others with about 100 yards to the finish.  As I crossed the finish line, I felt really good about where I was and how far I had to come to get there. I had placed 6^th in my age group, 1 spot off the podium.  The man I was trying to run with had placed 5^th in my age group. 

After the race, I talked to Dave.  He was really happy about my bike time and my run.  It is clear there is still more for me to work on: swimming, transitions, and dropping a few pounds to help with my run time.  Next race: Thanksgiving – Southwest Valley Regional Triathlon.  Thanks to TriFamily Racing for a great event!