Subtitle: A Triathlon in a Hurricane
As is typical, wake up came at 4:30am. After breakfast and dressing, I headed up to Nashville Shores on what I thought would be a nice day. Wrong! As I crossed the bridge that takes Bell Rd. over Percy Priest Lake, all I saw was choppiness. More on that later...
I'm assigned bib #2. Don't know how that happened; there were 800 racers that day, and I did NOT plan on finishing second. Nevertheless, the typical pre-race ritual went underway. I got my transition area set up and said hi to Tiago and J ___, the same 19 year old I raced against at the Monster Tri in July. It was cool to see him again. My run warmup convinced me to wear socks for the run portion, as I had a pretty nasty blister on my Achilles from Monday's sockless run. Around 7:00am I put on my speedsuit and start to head down to the swim start.
Before I get out of transition area, the head of Team Magic (the organization putting the race on) made an announcement about the water. Namely, that it was not wetsuit legal because it was warmer than 78* (this I anticipated, I brought me speedsuit which you can use in any race). More importantly, they gave the athletes the option of skipping the swim and doing just a bike, run. I chuckled with the UGA athlete next to me that this was because of the water temperature being too hot, and triathletes just being whiners. Turns out, it was because of the chop. Those who elected to do the swim swam a shortened 1200yds, which would make the course more straightforward.
I didn't think there was any way I was missing the swim, so I headed down to warm up. The waves on the beach were about 3 feet high, and they hit one after the other with amazing frequency. I only swam about 50 yds before calling it a warmup and heading back to shore. I exchanged nervous small talk with some of the other racers as I awaited the start. Team Magic made another announcement and tried to appeal to our better judgements: the waves further out on the course were twice the size of those near the beach. With one last chance to skip the swim, they called the collegiate wave out to begin the race. With a quick countdown, they shouted "Go!" and we all plunged into the water, against the current, and began the Music City Triathlon; a race that won't be soon forgotten by everyone involved.
I start the swim in the roughest water I've ever swam in. The entire field bobbed up and down, up and down, no method of fighting the water. The trip to the first buoy was undoubtedly the longest 400 yd swim I've ever done. All the while in a pack. I'd pass someone, they'd pass me, I'd pass them again. Darting from side to side as the riptide threw us about. All over the course. At one point, someone swam under me without meaning to. It was a sea of thrashing, fighting against the current and the waves. I'll speak conservatively and call the waves 5 ft high, but I'm confident they were at least 6 ft, maybe bigger than that. We were carried up 5 feet in the air and smashed down into the water. It was exhausting and very frustrating. There were times you weren't sure if you were actually moving or not. So much movement up and down, you had no idea if you were making any forward progress.
As I go to round the first set of buoys, I saw something I've never seen before. 45 swimmers, 45 red caps treading water. Where do we go? You couldn't see anything over the waves, boats had been swept away, maybe a buoy had moved. Were we supposed to turn? Go straight? Mass confusion, no movement, only up and down. We eventually turn and take off to the next buoy across the water, now going with the current. I know we were moving faster, but all I felt was the water picking me up and slamming me down. I struggled to breath. I struggled to keep moving forward. I didn't do it consciously, but I'm sure I was fighting for survival. All I knew was that I was in the middle of the lake in the middle of a storm, a bad one, and nobody was going to rescue me. Nobody could, they were fighting just like me.
I was sure I was dead last when I made the final turn and headed for shore. Exiting the water I noticed that not only was I not last, but I was seeded fairly well. It's a little too optimistic to say I was to 50%, but I bet I was top 67%. For the collegiate wave, that wasn't a bad day. I exit the water to a bunch of people standing around. "The swim's been canceled" said a volunteer. Okay, I've done the swim, so what? I misunderstand the situation: they let the first 6 waves go before they officially cancel it. After making the call, they pull everyone out of the water. After all that effort, my swim time was not registered. Not only this, but I would have to wait for almost another hour before I was allowed to start my bike. WHAT??? It was too dangerous. But the first few waves, all the collegiant's, we survived.
By the time it was time for our wave to start the bike, I had already gotten my socks put on. I didn't feel the least bit bad at this defiance of the rules, the way things turned out. I visited transition early and got someone to give them to me. So, with slightly wet socks, I sprint to the bike, grab my gear and head out on the bike course. I sort of hope this wind dies down some...
T1: 2:38
After a textbook-worthy transition, I hop on my bike, hammer up the first hill, put my shoes on and proceed to head out on the course. It wasn't too terribly long before we ran into the wind. The never-ending wind. I have no way of knowing how strong the wind was, but I tell people it was about 20-25 mph.
The bike started well enough, except for the wind. The same ole', same ole' of passing several people while getting passed by others style seeding took place in the first 5 miles. The only thing worth discussing was the headwind. It was interesting to see how each person chose to handle it. I focused on perceived effort and kept a high cadence, while others opted for the high gearing and grinding through it. I don't understand the methodology, but to each his own.
This race was really one of the very few times on the bike that I just did not feel safe. My sentiment was not improved about halfway through the bike session when I saw the ambulances. As I come over a hill, I descended and prepared to turn right, when I was ordered to slow down. Apparently, a girl took the corner too fast, got caught in a crosswind from the right, veered into the left lane and hit a car head-on. It looked like a pretty messy situation, with one girl on the ground and a few others scattered in bloody messes over the road and the ditch. Throughout the 27 mile bike course there was scarcely a stretch of a half mile without seeing someone wreck or have a mechanical issue. It was a real jungle out there.
To further describe the windy conditions, at one point in the bike ride we had to cross an undulated bridge. At the peak of the bridge, the wind had to be 50 mph and it was a direct headwind. People were literally taking their left foot out of their pedals and kicking off the ground like a scooter because they could not pedal into the wind fast enough to stay upward.
I didn't wreck or have a mechanical issue, but I had a problem to deal with of my own. With no aid stations on the bike, and with the bike being much more difficult than anticipated, I found myself at mile 17, still having a GU and a caffeine pill to take, with only a mouthful of water left. After some internal debate, I decide to save my water for the end to take with my pill and gel. No matter what my decision, however, I would be incredibly dehydrated by the start of the run. At least it wasn't hot... -rolls eyes-
At long last I roll into T2 and am ready to finish the run and the race. This is an amazing life experience, but I'm about finished racing for the day. The first two disciplines in these conditions had taken their toll, and I'm already not happy with my times or my seeding. I throw on my shoes and hat and head out ready to finish this stupid race and just go home.
Bike: 1:32:22
T2: 1:09
The run, aside from being dusty and quite windy in parts, was pretty uneventful. The mile markers were very confusing, due to the two-loop affair. I thought I saw markers 1, 2, 4, 2 again, 5 and then 1 again in the span of the first two miles. This didn't affect my pacing as much as it did my psyche.
I had pretty high expectations of the 10k as a chance to really take a bite out of my time last year, but it just wasn't in the cards. I was exhausted, dehydrated and was risking hyponatremia and cramping towards the end. I just limped through it. This was the first time I've ever been able to say I ran a triathlon in which the run was the easiest part. Historically, the run is by far the worst part. Maybe I should have pushed harder (not gonna happen).
Run: 1:00:39
Total time: 2:36:46
Placing: 31 out of 40 in collegiate wave
I was over the whole triathlon scene by the end of the race. I didn't even stick around for the awards. My whole body was tired. I hadn't felt this way since the end of WildFlower. For crying out loud, it took me 2 weeks to post the report. It just depressed me. I am looking forward to Atomic Man; one last chance to fully extend myself before the season ends. The 28th should be a good day, but I'm pretty sure I'll be all tried out for the next 7 months by 3:00pm.
