SUNDAY, JUNE 17, 2001

Short version: I DID THIS RACE 36+ MINUTES FASTER THAN MY BEST TIME! 4:37 versus 5:13 last year! WHOOPEE!

Thanks for letting me cheer :-)

Long version: Ever have one of those days when things go right? I did.

You wouldn’t have known it from how I got organized the day before the race. Sheila Plemich had arranged a dinner in Springfield the night before at 7 p.m. So, thinking ahead, I told Sherry, “I’m leaving at 2 p.m.” Three-hour drive, check-in, dinner at 7, so plenty of time, right? Wrong. At about 1:15 it dawned on me that there was the little matter of registration, the course talk and the expo, which had to be worked in before 5. Luckily my checklist in my training log is super-complete and it assured that I could finish my packing quickly and not forget anything important (like my bike). (Did I say that I just threw everything in the car helter skelter and took off? Oh well, no points for neatness here.)

After driving “way too fast,” I arrived in time for registration, grazed the expo and listened to the final course talk. Then back to check-in at the hotel and organize my race gear. Then to dinner, which included Sheila, Dave Tomlinson, Mark Harms, Joel Falk, several other tri-guys and family members. Sheila talked about her 20+ hour training weeks and the half Ironman she recently did in Kona, Mark said how much he was looking forward to Ironman Moo in his backyard, Joel lamented his lack of training time since Accenture has him on the road, and Dave was happy to glean Ironman Canada insight from me, since he managed to register via the Internet last summer.

To bed early, up at 5, to Lake Springfield by 6:15. The brisk wind of the day before had died down but the morning was warm enough that a higher 80s day was in store.

I racked my bike—we oldsters were in the racks next to the elites, with whom we shared the first wave! Only seven bikes to a rack here, so plenty of space. I got set up and, clad in my new De Soto tri-suit, tested the 80 degree water. No wetsuits today! This would be a great test of how much Masters swimming has helped me improve.

Plenty of time until the start, so I wandered down to the boat launch area where we were going to start, watched race volunteers lay carpet on the ramp into the water, and then waded in and swam for a few minutes. My retooled bilateral stroke was comfortable. After a short swim, I sat on the side of the dock and watched many other competitors go in and out of the water, some walking alongside the carpet and sliding down the very slippery ramp. Soon we were formed up in waves, with mine standing on the carpet into the water. After a countdown an air horn launched us off.

After an initially tight start through which I partly breaststroked, we spread out a little and I got into a steady rhythm, breathing bilaterally every three armstrokes. But where are the orange buoys? Oops, I was veering off to the left of the pack, swimming at least 20 degrees away from the buoy line. I spent the rest of the first one-half mile leg slowly closing in on the line of triathletes swimming to my right. I joined the line and turned the first corner at a yellow buoy as the leaders of another wave came swimming through.

As we proceeded along the second one-mile leg, I was totally comfortable in the almost flat pool-temperature water, feeling strong. Every once in a while a swimmer would grab a leg or knock my arm, but no damage was done.

I turned the next corner and sighted on the power tower that loomed behind the swim exit one-half mile away. Still some blue caps from my wave around me amidst the colors from the other waves that have caught us. That’s a good sign! Ooh! Aah! Someone tried to swim through me. I just hate that when it happens. I slid to one side—and the swimmer crawled up my side. This guy is barely any faster than me and does not get the hint that a body is between him and the water ahead of him. Time to get prickly. I increased the height, width and strength of my kick and stuck my elbows out, becoming a much more uncomfortable obstacle. Finally the swimmer gets the hint and angles away. Whew… But now where am I? In the jousting I had started to swim inside the buoy line. I had not yet cut a buoy, so it was OK. I quickly forged the 20 feet or so to my left to get back into the long train of swimmers on their way to the last yellow buoy.

I slowly picked up the swim pace—still no real sprint, but certainly faster—and the boat ramp came up pretty fast. I found my land legs immediately—unlike the many times that I have had trouble staying upright at the end of the swim—and needed no help coming up the ramp. As I ran the short distance to the transition area I pulled off my goggles and swim cap, called out my number to the timers and hit my watch. I wanted to be sub one hour, having done the swim in no better than 65 minutes the three other times I had done this race. I was amazed at my time! 53 minutes and change! And entering the transition area I had a new experience--half the bikes in my age group were still racked up and lonely, waiting for the swimmers to come in! Usually I find a mostly empty area when I arrive. I am still relatively slow, but it looks like the Masters swimming is paying off…

I seemingly flew through the transition because I wore my new one-piece tri suit for the swim. I pulled on my socks and shoes, shoved on my glasses and helmet, squeezed down a PowerGel, unracked my bike, pushed it down the aisle and hopped on, still grinning about my time and the untended bikes still racked up.

A relatively strong rider, typically on the bike I start out near the back and pass what seems to be half the race. Today was different, with a better swim and being in the first wave. I did immediately pick off a few slower riders as we rode out of the park and on the road along the lake, but for the most part ahead of me were the elites, the faster half of my age group and the faster members of subsequent waves that passed me on the swim. In fact, for the first hour or so a number of “hot riders” who finished the swim behind me passed me. Nonetheless, I steadily did pick off other riders.

As we begin to ride the H-pattern course in the cornfields, my average was 21-plus. However, I noted that the wind was picking up. Sure enough, by the second leg of the H riding south my average speed was slipping and by the turn-around my average speed was only 19.2.

In too many races over the years I had missed my eating points and not drunk enough. This year one of my goals is to be rigorous in eating and drinking. I had decided to carry all that I needed and not depend on the aid stations (which are fairly frequent and reliable in this race). While I was tracking my average speed versus current speed on my bike computer, somehow I was also paying enough attention to elapsed time that I consumed a PowerGel every 40 minutes and drank a bottle an hour (alternating Gatorade and water). So far so good!

Still inspired because of my great swim and feeling plenty strong because of sufficient training and proper eating and drinking, I raised my average speed back up to 19.7 on the north leg. Then we turned back south into the wind to ride back to the crossroad in the H. I was determined not to let my average speed slip despite the headwind. I really began to crank and soon was grateful that I had routinely been doing sprint repeat workouts on the bike.

I played cat-and-mouse, passing and being re-passed by several riders, but eventually put them behind me. My lactate level rose, but my average speed did not slip over what was probably a 5 mile leg. I built it a little more after turning and then back on the lake road. I was cranking out 24 MPH miles. As I turned into park my average had been lifted to 19.9. Crank harder, Lee, you can average 20! As I approached transition, not far from the point where we were flagged to slow down, my computer registered 20 as my average for the 45 mile ride. I had really cranked hard in the last 15 miles. All the winter skating and snowshoeing, as well as my more recent work, paid off. As usual, I loved the bike!

T2 was slower than last year, only because I took a very quick pit stop. As I left transition I noted that about half the bikes in my age group’s racks were not in yet, another new experience!

The uphill out of transition helped bring my heart rate up. My legs did not feel as though I had just come off the bike after a hard ride. We crossed the bridge over the lake and then began our nine plus miles of winding through the tree-lined streets in the neighborhoods on the west side of the lake. I slowly brought my heart rate up to 148 or so, and soon I noted that my mile two split was 7.47, a great tri mile time for me at this distance. The day was getting warmer, so I made sure to get enough fluid, alternating water and Gatorade at the stops each mile, sometimes taking two cups. I also continued my every 40 miles PowerGel routine, which seemed to be working well.

In mid run a subdivision had decorated its mailboxes in a red-white-and blue patriotic theme complete with balloons in our behalf and had erected some sort of an arch over the road for us to run under while the residents cheered up on. Nice touch!

Somewhere in that timeframe I passed a guy in my age group (we had our ages marked on our left calf). I said some words of encouragement as I motored by and then turned to another guy who had been pacing along with me. “I really like the fact that we can spot competitors by their ages and pick off people in our age group. I try to be supportive when I pass, but then I celebrate that I’ve picked another one off,” I said, with a grin on my face.

For most of the race runners passed us going the other direction. At one point Sheila Plemich passed. I assumed she was on her way back to the finish line and was having a terrific race so I yelled, “Great race Sheila!” I overtook another runner and did not see who he was, but he said, “Great race, Lee!”

I had PR’ed at a 10 mile road race a few weeks earlier, so the distance was one I was comfortable with, especially at the slower pace that my tri legs wanted to run. In fact, I was much more comfortable than I had been a week earlier when I did a 12 mile run as part of a brick on a very hot and humid day. Throughout the race I passed many more people than passed me. My heart rate was maintaining in the mid-140s and my mile splits were in the low to mid 8’s, which would put me in “best triathlon long run” territory.

Nonetheless, after about two-thirds of the race distance I found myself winding down a bit and feeling a little put out that the d#&%’ed turnaround still had not come up and miles six and then seven clipped by. Didn’t I remember that this course was a longer out and back and then a shorter out and back and then across the bridge again to transition? I was still trying to find the first turnaround! Then we passed eight and the turnaround was there. I asked the guy standing at the turn point not “Is this mile eight?” but “How much more to go?” I was even beginning to doubt that I remembered properly that this was a 10-mile run. An irrational act, but I just could not visualize a turnaround at mile 8 when we had not had one earlier. (Obviously I should have paid more attention to the map at registration!)

I was relieved when the volunteer said, “Two to go.” Oh well, we must have doubled back at least once already. I put the hammer down a bit and picked up the pace. I passed several folks who had passed me. Soon another spectator said, “a quarter mile to the finish” and the turn to the bridge was there. I pushed the pace even more and took aim at another guy about 75 yards ahead on the bridge. Could I close the gap before the finish chute? Let’s try! I turned it up another notch or two and closed faster. It was going to be close. But in the past 50 yards I made the pass and held the guy off. The spectators around the finish were cheering loudly as I crossed the line, with the biggest grin you can imagine on my face! The clock and my watch confirmed a time of 4:37, a fantastic 35-minute PR!

OK, so I finished 13 of 25 in my age group. The competition at this race is really tough—not many newbies try a race like this, especially in an older group like mine, and I am also nearing the top end of the group in age, so I am very happy with my result. I shaved off 11.52 in the swim, 13.26 on the bike, 9.49 on the run and 1.46 in the transitions.

I felt very good afterwards, as well, which is another measure of my training and fitness level. And today, four days later, at the track we ran 9 repeat 400s—I led our group on every one and set a 400 PR of 80 seconds!