Great Lakes Triathlon

What’s the difference between the person who finishes first and the athlete who crosses the finish line last?


The Night Before

I loaded up the family in the car, dropped off my oldest children at a birthday party, and drove with my wife and youngest two children to pick up my packet.

“Have fun at the expo, “ my oldest called after us.

Expo? This was not an expo. All they had were the volunteers setting up the transition area and the volunteers handing out jerseys, t-shirts, and race packets. There was one retailer there with a table set up manned by two employees who looked like they had drawn the short straw and got stuck working at the, um, “expo”.

I got my packet and asked my wife if it would be OK to go look around. She was Ok with that so we wandered down to the water to scope out the swimming area. Actually seeing the lake where I was going to swim had a bit of a calming affect on me. The water was warm and clear. I dipped my toes in and tried to imagine what it would be like in the morning.

After we got home I realized that my wife had forgotten to buy my pre-race bananas and bagels. I helped get the kids all tucked into bed and I skipped off to the market to buy my breakfast. I had some trouble assuring my five-year-old son that I wasn’t going to sink and never come back. Still, he made my wife promise him that if I didn’t make she wouldn’t make him have another dad. (Yes! I love that kid. In reality, my wife is probably so sick of me that she has three or four likely candidates waiting to take over the moment I slip up and ….oh forget it.) Returning home I packed my backpack and sat down to watch a little television before I went to bed.

Then…I went to bed.

Race Morning

The alarm woke me up at 4:45. I rolled out of bed. I ate my bagel and banana, got dressed, and went to the bathroom TWICE before leaving the house. I brought my bag out to the car and decided that it was cold enough (55 degrees) that I should be wearing pants and a jacket so I went back in and grabbed that stuff and began the half hour drive to the YMCA camp where the event was being held.

I arrived early enough that there wear only about 20 other cars there. Friendly volunteers waved me into a really good parking spot. I grabbed my water bottle and jumped out of the car and into the cool morning to get my stuff to the transition area. I pumped up my tires, made some small talk with my neighbors in the lot, and then headed off to the transition area.

The transition was set up so that race number assigned each rack. So because my number was 68 and I was there early I got a great spot to rack my bike. Now, I’m a little bit slow when it comes to doing new things and had NO IDEA how to get my bike on that rack thingy. So, forgetting that I’m shy, I walked over and asked someone who looked like they knew what they were doing. He was more than happy to help and wished me good luck on my first race. I headed off to body marking.

All I had left to do was wait…

That’s when I saw one of the guys from the pool so I walked over to talk to him. I asked him why he wasn’t getting set up and told me that he had cut his big toe pretty badly the week before. Then another guy from the pool walked by and after talking for about 30 seconds we discovered that we al live within a tenth of a mile of each other. So we made tentative plans to start doing some runs and rides together. How cool is that?

We all walked down to the water together. Mark, the injured guy, gave Todd (no…not me. The other guy.) and I some pointers since he had done this event a few times. On the walk back to transition I ran into my wife and kids. The kissed me all good luck and went to find a spot to watch the start while I went to my transition area to strip down to the bare essentials.

The Swim

You know I’m slow right? Good. Remember that.

I watched the first few waves start. I felt confident enough and not nearly as nervous as I expected I would be. I shivered a bit in the cool morning air.

They called our wave to the starting area and I waded into the water. The horn went off and I walked forward while all of the real triathletes dove into the water and began swimming furiously. I got to about waist deep and I eased my way into the water and began swimming.

This was my first open water swim ever. I did not freak out. The water felt great as I slipped forward through the water stroking easily and confidently. I looked up to sight and I had no idea where I was. It only took a second to get myself oriented and head in the right direction. I decided to switch to the breaststroke so I would at know where I was going.

I got bumped into as faster swimmers caught up to me. No big deal. One person tried to swim right up my back as I was rounding the third buoy and heading back to shore. I still didn’t freak out. I just stopped kicking and relaxed and he shifted to the side.

As I got about three-quarters of the way done I realized that I hadn’t seen any other swimmers for a while. I began to realize that I might just be the last swimmer in the water. I was pretty embarrassed. I know someone has to be last. I just didn’t want it to be me.

I finally got to the beach. I looked behind me and saw three other swimmers behind me yet. I looked at the beach volunteers and said, “Did I win?”

They got a chuckle out of that.

The Bike

My kids were waiting for me along the fence as I made my way to transition. They blew me kisses and yelled, “Go Dad!”

The transition went smoothly and I was soon on the bike and heading out for what I expected to be a lonely 18-mile ride. Within a quarter mile of starting the ride the leader came flying down the road past me. This didn’t make me feel to good.

I yelled some encouragement to other cyclists as they passed me on the way in hoping that they would do the same for me. Nobody did. I got passed twice. This made me realize that I was now second to last. I began to wonder if the effort was worth it.

I eventually caught up to a man and pulled along side of hoping for some company and conversation. He told me that it was his first triathlon and it was his 75th birthday. I swear he looked 20 years younger. I told him what an inspiration I thought he was. He said thanks and then pulled away as we were riding up the biggest hill of the ride. Another blow to my ego. Then I saw a guy on a recumbent bike that was coming the other way. Are you kidding me!! Those things are incredibly slow and even he was ahead of me.

On my way in on the bike I yelled encouragement to the runners coming from the other direction. Again…nobody yelled back.
The hills on the ride weren’t anything terrible. The ride felt better than the swim. I felt like I was just getting warmed up.

The Run

Again, my kids were waiting sheer for me near the transition area. They even ran along side of me for awhile as I walked for the first couple of minutes. Then the best part of the race happened.

I stopped to go to the bathroom.

As I trotted out of the woods another runner was coming along. We ended up running the entire 4.5 miles together. We talked and just enjoyed a really nice run along a very pretty run course around the lake. I actually felt myself getting stronger with each mile. I could have easily left him behind and finished a couple of minutes faster but I was enjoying myself too much.

We passed the 75-year old and wished him a happy birthday. We passed a couple of others who were obviously struggling with the run. We asked if they were OK and if they needed anything. They sent us on ahead. Before I knew it we were running down the chute and the announcer was calling my name while a volunteer was handing me a deliciously cold towel.

I finished with a smile on my face.

As far as first triathlons go, I could have done much better. I clearly need to become a better swimmer. But I felt so good on the run that I’m confident that next time I’ll do even better. Yes, I said next time.