“BE SAFE OUT THERE,” the race organizer said, standing in the water by the inflatable dinosaur. “Grab onto a kayak if you need a break.” (He was looking at me. I know he was.)
Then he gave the “go signal” and my group splashed across the starting line and out into Kent Lake for the start of the Triceratops Triathlon.
This was not only my first triathlon, it was my first-ever swim of any distance in open water. But one thought was clear in my mind as we struck out for the first buoy: ain’t no way I’m gonna grab a kayak.
A triathlon is a swim, bike, and run event, completed in that order. Perhaps the most famous is the Ironman: 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, and 26.2 mile run (yes, a marathon) for 140.6 miles total. Other popular distances include the half Ironman (70.3 miles), the Olympic distance (51.5 km, or 32 miles), and the so-called “sprint triathlon” (0.5 mile swim, 12.4 mile bike ride, 5K run). The Running Fit T-Rex series I signed up for are sprints.
Most sprinters finish in 90 minutes or less, which means one can be squeezed into a weekday evening, as this one was. If there was going to be a race, that is: a nasty thunderstorm knocked out power at home Wednesday morning, and the weather radar promised another set that afternoon. Fortunately, they’d come and gone by 5:00, so our 6:00 start had a comfortable water temperature (77 degrees) and air temps in the 60s, perfect for the bike and run.
The swimming was my biggest worry. Never in my life had I done any meaningful distance, and I found out at a swim class in April just how much work I needed with form, breathing, and especially, endurance. I couldn’t swim more than 50 meters without stopping, and I needed to get to 800. With regular practice and some coaching, I reached it in late May – in the pool. Could I do that in the lake? I wasn’t so sure. But I’d decided no matter what, I wasn’t reaching for any kayaks.
The race started in waves (no pun intended) to minimize crowding in the water. When you’re swimming hard it’s difficult to see who’s around you, and everyone has his or her stories about getting elbowed and kicked. I got a little of that, but not much. Even better, my goggles never fogged up like they did in practice, and I was able to track the course buoys the entire way. Even though many swimmers passed me (along with a few turtles), I emerged from the water in one piece.
Transitioning to the bike was reasonably smooth, the hardest part getting the gloves onto my wet hands, and I pretty much held my own, being passed by many better riders, but doing my share of passing as well. And “drafting” (staying close behind someone to take advantage of lessened air resistance) was not allowed in this event, which made a bike non-racer like me feel a lot safer.
Then it was off with the bike shoes and into the running shoes for the 5K. My legs were stiff and heavy at first (as was everyone’s), and someone looking at us runners for that first quarter mile might have wondered which senior citizen’s facility had just had a massive escape. But I got my legs back and finished with a strong time, feeling good. I was a triathlete!
The race results show my swim, bike, and run splits separately, along with where I placed in each category. As expected, I was slow in the swim. Turned out I was in the middle on the bike portion, and strong in the run – in the top 15 percent. The “T1” and “T2” are my times in transition from one activity to the next. T1 is from end of the swim to the start of the bike, and T2 is from the end of the bike portion to the start of the run.
So, in all there are five opportunities for improvement in the remaining two triathlons. However, as my next one comes just four days after the Devil’s Lake 50K, I’ll not try to set my sights too high.
Next up – some time off of training, which I’m already enjoying more than I oughta. Then Devil’s Lake on July 12.