A Record of Sorts

This was supposed to be a rest week, but three days off the bike and five days away from the blog had quite a rejuvenating effect. Friday, with 80 degree temps officially kicking off the summer, I rode to work and felt fine. Rather than take the weekend off, I made a last minute deal with myself Friday night. If I could get my aerobars and race wheels on, pack the bike in the car, rotate the new car to the end of the driveway, and get all my clothing packed by 9 pm, then I'd go out and get some ice cream, and then race the Rye-by-the-Sea duathlon in the morning. This would be the last chance to race a du until the fall. I made it too. Ate a bowl of chocolate chip and went to bed. For my efforts, I was rewarded with the distinction of posting the slowest winning time in the twelve year history of this event!

At 5:40 am I rolled out. It was not raining, big bonus. Arriving at 7:25, I just made registration before it closed. The race starts at 8. It was still not raining, and quite warm. Got kitted up, checked my bike into transition, and "warmed up" by running to the p-john while the announcer said "athletes to the line, three minutes to the start." The run course starts on pavement for one mile before turning into the woods. The serpentine trail was in the best shape ever this year, dry and nicely groomed by the crew. After a mile of this you get dumped out into what I was told is an abandoned airfield. It's all taped off like a cyclocross course where it winds back on itself a few times, so you get a good look at the competition. You then head back over a small hill and into transition.

A group of about ten runners had fifteen seconds or so on me as we hit the woods. I felt pretty good, with mile one coming at 5:52. The woods are soft footing and slower, and some of the airfield is similar with gravel. On the switchbacks I calculated I would come into the transition a minute back, and that turned out to be correct, 19:26. They only have mats for the run, so both transitions get included in the bike time. T1 was better than usual for me, and I self-timed it at around 1:15. I ate a gel and passed a few riders. Then I started to get caught up in car traffic which was stuck behind some riders. It was crazy time, passing the line on the left and bewildering the cop at the intersection, but I came out of it alive. Steady progress, oddly enough, my legs felt great. I had ATACs on, and did not adjust my seat height from the Speedplays, so the saddle was a touch low. No worries.

The 17 mile bike course has mile markers just like a running race. Just after passing mile 5, I see three guys ahead behind a police car with flashing lights. The leader! I pass him before mile six. Now I start thinking shit, it only took me six miles to close the run gap. I have eleven miles more of riding. I should be able to win this thing.

The middle nine miles of this course head south right along the beach, on what I feel is the most scenic oceanside riding on the east coast. I wasn't enjoying it too much though, as there was a stiff and constant 3/4 headwind off the water the entire way. Normally at this race, there are at least twenty riders who post a bike split under 50 minutes. This year there were three. I had great legs though. The last few miles riding back inland, I kept the power on until the last mile, and then soft pedaled a bit to get ready for the run. When I went into transition, the announcer said I had a huge lead. I fumbled a bit getting my running shoes on, but headed back out across the mat, where we start the same run course, but in reverse. Still nobody in sight. The switchbacks come at the start of the run this time, and you can see back a full two minutes. When I headed into the woods, still nobody behind. Just don't twist an ankle...

Out of the woods, just one mile of road run to the line. Of course, I'm sharing this road with the bike riders who are still finishing. I stay way to the right... Then, whammo! Some clown riding with his head down nails me from behind, but luckily only gets my arm and shoulder, and I keep my feet. He seems incredulous as I launch my tirade. WTF dude? The lane was twenty feet wide. Anyway, without much fanfare, I run in and cross the line about two minutes ahead of the next guy. Yippee.

I don't want to disrespect my competitors by calling the field "soft," but when the second place guy is 55 years old, and third place is 17, well, you know it wasn't exactly stacked. My time was a whopping eight minutes off the course record, and normally would have only been good for about tenth place. At 119 athletes, the field size was only about half what it usually is. Not sure why, maybe a full calendar, lack of prizes, and shitty weather forecast. It wasn't all bad though. The same course worker who told me the airfield story also said they had remeasured the course, and this was the first time it was ever a full 5k. It used to be just 3 miles, so they added length to the switchbacks. Then there was the headwind on the water. When I went out for my cooldown ride, going in reverse of race direction, I went almost as fast as while racing, and barely had to pedal. The breeze was that strong. So I feel very good about my bike split. It was only two and change off the record holder's bike split, and I'm sure his transitions accounted for a minute or so of the difference. So with the wind, I know I did a good ride. My second run time was almost identical to the first, even without close competition. And of course, it's still better to win in a weak field than it is to not win in a weak field, right? Thanks for reading.