New Mexico, I learned the other day, has the lowest percentage of open water of any State. This is the reason why the majority of triathlons here are done backwards. It is impossible for 200 people to start in a four lane 25 yard pool so we run first, then bike, then swim. I don't really like it in that order because I have to hold back so much on the run and by the time I get to the swim I am pretty well trashed. But it is what it is and everyone does the same thing.
The run began at 8:00am sharp and immediately everyone shot out of that starting area like a quarter mile nitromethane fueled drag race. I didn't want to use it as an excuse but seeing everyone take off like that and leave me in their dust I couldn't help but remember that in the last couple of months I could count the number of times I have biked or run on one hand. Yep, I was definitely in over my head this time.
The run was 3.5 miles long and around 7,000 feet in elevation (along with the rest of the course). After a half mile or so the run entered a single track trail which circles a beautiful little lake before returning to transition. Entering the single track trail, it seemed as if the race's level of fury dropped several notches. "Blast!" Everyone went out too fast as usual and now I am stuck behind them. That was okay, I didn't really mind, I needed to hold back anyway because I was unsure how biking at such elevation and on such noodle-like legs would work out. Each opportunity I got however, I went around a runner or two. No big aggressive moves, but I kept moving up throughout the whole run leg.
Close to the end of the run I inched up on this rather buff looking dude who was obviously working very hard. I hung back ten feet or so just watching and waiting for the transition to show. Suddenly this fellow just starts weaving all over the road and begins coughing. Then he slows and bends over at the side of the road allowing us to get a pretty good idea of what he had for breakfast. Although I am still a little unsure of what breakfast foods are green.
Finally the run was over. I ended up coming into transition around sixth or seventh but most importantly, I still felt pretty good. I was not breathing hard or cramping or having any regrets on what I ate for breakfast like my friend over there (who is my new hero by the way). I was excited to start the 10 mile bike section. The first half is almost completely up hill and the last half, a white knuckle screaming decent on windy mountain roads.
I passed two competitors soon after leaving transition and I appeared to be making up some ground. I didn't feel super strong but I felt aero after making some adjustments on the ol' Cervelo. Since this was a sprint and the first five miles were completely up hill I couldn't waste time if I wanted to gain more ground. I adjusted myself back into aero position, put my head down, and dug my legs into the pedals causing my hamstrings to scream mercy and calves to burn. When the discomfort became too great, I got out of the saddle for twenty or so revolutions. I looked behind me a couple of times expecting the entire world to show up and proceed to give me a nice spanking, but luckily they didn't. At the turn around the two lead riders were right there but the fact that the course was now a descent meant I could not use the hill to my advantage. I would have to bank on my aero-position, and my ability to read the road and it's tangents to make up more time. I closed on second place, Bobby Gonzales from El Paso, TX, quickly but I noticed he had a bigger chain-ring in front than I did because when I would spin out he could keep hammering. We were both ripping the decent at 45 miles per hour but I slowly began opening up some distance. Close to the bottom I managed to catch two cars and rather than wait behind them, I took my chances and passed them. Yeah, I'll admit it, passing cars made me feel like a bad ass. Coming into transition I accidentally took a detour around the town of Ruidoso, NM adding a little extra distance to the bike leg but it wasn't bad. I was overall, very pleased with my bike.
Oh yeah, now the 400 yard swim. Crap! But before that, I managed to pull of yet another famous Blalock transition (i.e. slowest transition ever by not removing my feet from the shoes before hopping off, rooting around in my bag for the goggles, struggling to get my sticky bike jersey off etc...). Bobby, just behind me, of course was lickity split in transition and also, probably did not detour the town before getting off the bike. Thus, that time I had amassed on the bike was pretty much negated during transition. I ran to the pool feeling like I had slinkies for legs and without wasting any more time, jumped right in. "Wait wait wait!" yelled the volunteers. "You have start from the other side of the pool." Right then, Bobby ran by me. "Arrggh!" I said to myself. "I had a good bike ride, I don't feel like fighting for it that bad, I'm done." I slogged through the 200 yards of hell feeling every muscle fiber in my body ripping and shredding with fatigue, then, because the pool was so small, you get out, run around, and swim the 200 yards again. Fun fun fun!
I ended up coming in third. It was a great way to kick off finishing my thesis and the start of summer and my triathlon season. On paper I was listed as being first however. Then during awards I was called out as taking second. What happened to the leader? It was a little strange. But the best part of all, I got a bear carving! I normally don't like trophies but this one was pretty neat. You just can't beat locally made crafts. Especially a bear!
Happy to finally be back on the bike. (Photo by Joe Coakley.)
I got a bear!
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