<---Me, about 10 minutes before I am supposed to start my very first triathlon. The Chicago Supersprint triathlon is made up of a 375m swim, 6 mile bike, and a 1.5 mile run. Seems short right. Try doing it. So, instead of writing about training or the woes that come with the whole process, I wrote about the event its self. Enjoy Transition opened at 6am, arriving a bit early I took the liberty to enjoy the sunrise of this beautiful day on Lake Michigan. Not wanting to be screwed on my position in the transition area I got over there at 6:05. Half the racks had already been filled, so I get to move down. Keep in mind the "Bike out" portion keeps getting further and further from my rack. Getting there, I nestle into a good spot with plenty of room and bust out the good old Donald Duck towel (you will see why later.) Throughout my set up, more and more people are starting to fill in. People of every age, size, and any where in between. Well, now its 6:15 and I still have an hour before the transition closes. What now? I don't dare put on my wet suit yet its going to start getting warmer fast. So I walk over to eat of the outs and ins, basically survey the land. Now its 6:30 I don't have anything to do except check over for the 5 time that all my stuff is where it needs to be. Keep in mind, Reina is still in bed and is showing up at 8. So fiddle around some more and then say screw it, put on the suit and go check out the water and the beach. What was to be expected. More standing around. Now my self, who enjoys people watching, this is my heaven. People wearing things that are stretched to capacity with out ripping. People decked out in all the upper crust swim/race gear (Ps. my suit is rented) yet everyone doing what I'm doing. Standing around with nothing to do. Finally 7:15 rolls around and the course talk begins, this goes on for a few minutes, but is all very self explanatory if you read the rules and race route prior (yet some people neglected this: forgotten helmets, swim caps.) At about 8:00 Reina shows up and wishes me luck and kisses my ass good bye. "Wave 16 come on up," that's me. So my self and about 50 others stand and wait for the horn. Go.
Swim
RUN! Take off towards the water, bumping into everyone else fighting for the own space. By the time I hit the water, high knees kick in, in order to cut through as much water as possible before slowing down. Water splashing everywhere its almost hard to see. Once I get to an actual spot I can stretch out and swim, I am already out of breath, tired, and double thinking why I did this. The water was shallow enough to touch, so I was able to walk a bit, cutting through people and being able to catch my breath. Once I rounded the 1st buoy, I laid out and got to it. Doing a breath every other stroke was the only way I was going to keep my breathing up and stay in the water. Before I knew it I had already passed 4 people and took a second to look behind me and saw the entire 16 wave except the 7 or 8 who had a front spot. Ducked back down and continued to swim. Next thing I knew, I was already at the last buoy and needed to start my return to the beach. The water was deep enough for it to be a pain to run but to shallow to swim. Wading through the water while attempting to reach the cord for the wet suit, my body reacted by wanting to walk. I knew I couldn't. Busted a pace and headed for the transition with my suit half off. The real good feeling was the people on each side of the path cheering you on, that's if you could hear them over you panting and the pain of death inside you. It was about a 100 yard dash to the transition. Luckily there was plenty of grass that helped get some sand off your feet. All the while replacing that with grass and dirt.
Transition #1
So this is where the Donald Duck towel comes into play. I used it so I could easily spot my bike among the several hundred that were present. So inevitably I end up running through all the "bike out" people, making it slightly more difficult to spot my section. Once I find it, I instantly see my blue, red, and white childes towel. This is important because once you exit the water and are forced to run, your mind is somewhere else. You forget whats going on, your disoriented, and also still trying to figure out why in the hell your doing this. Up to my spot and put on my socks over the grass, dirt, mud, and what ever remaining sand I had left on my feet. Shoes (which i don't even remember tying), then helmet, then glasses. If you are a runner or any sort of out doors person, you know what cliff shot blocks are. I had grabbed some for this event and pre-made some Gatorade that was on my bike. Pounded down three of those and a couple chugs of the best tasting stuff at that point in my life. My heart was racing, mind was still back on the beach along with my legs, and here I am attempting to ride a bike with 300 other people. As I jog down the path towards the bike out I take a mental inventory of what I had and what I needed for the run and out I went.
Bike
Per the rules, your not allowed to mount your bike with in a certain distance of the transition area so you have to run/jog with it until they say. With that in mind, try getting on a road bike after all that has just happened. Not easy. Right leg over the saddle and off I go. The course is a road that runs parallel with the lake in between some soccer fields. The route had been planned out as a 3 lap loop, making the total distance 6 miles. On my way out of the gate this is the first time I see Reina. I'm out of breath, tired, and my mouth is full of shot blocks and Gatorade. I attempt a smile. Fail. I pass her and continue down the road. Throughout the whole ride all I am doing is passing people. Fat people on beach cruisers, people on mountain bikes, old people. Screw it, I'm in for my self I don't have time to judge. Earlier that week I had ridden down the road so I could see what was in store for me. Not to bad of a course with the exception of small hills. One a single speed road bike this meant tons-0-fun. Passing left and right, drinking up all of my Gatorade and shot blocks I count maybe 9 people during the entire race pass me. These people of course being on tri-bikes or $$$$ road bikes. The trouble of all of this comes at the first quarter of lap 2. Out of the middle of no where, I panic. I cannot for the life of me remember how many laps I have done. I try and think back to what I have seen or what I passed that could have been a signal. NOTHING. This feeling over takes me and inevitably slows me down. I am so worried at this point that I haven't done enough laps and I will be disqualified. Making this all for nothing. I round the turn around for a lap and I am still trying my hardest to figure this out. Brains not working at all, I either do another lap and add time or say screw it and go in. I go in. On my way in, I hear what I believe is Reina yelling "Calvin!." I worry even more now because what if she notices that I only did 2 laps. Crap. To late now. No turning back.
Transition#2
I dismount my bike when they say and jog with it back to my spot. Continuing to believe I had only done 2 laps, but feverishly replaying my bike portion to make it 3. The transition now looks like a train wreck. Peoples bikes, shoes, shirts, bottles, everything is now everywhere. I get back to my spot and there are now 3 other bikes that I don't recognize around. Yet Donald Duck is there. I'm in the right spot. I throw my bike on the rack, toss my helmet on the ground and sprint towards the "run out."
Run
Exiting the run, there are lots of people handing out water and Gatorade. Grab a Gatorade and try to swallow. Fail. This sticky concoction is now all over my neck, hands, shirt, legs. Never again will I try to run and drink. Throw the cup into a trash (not on the ground, gotta watch your waste) and continue down the trail. As soon as I start the run, I instantly feel at home. The path is a route that Reina and I run all the time for training and is a great comfort in this pandemonium that I call my day. Running was the same deal as with the bike. I was passing people the whole time with even fewer people passing me. The only difference is that I am looking at all the bib #s trying to determine if I had in fact skipped a lap. All the #'s coming back towards me where anywhere between 100 or 700 numbers below me. This is solidifying my case of the missing lap. Only at one time did I see a guy from my wave coming back towards me headed to the finish that was in my wave. A little relaxed by this, then I remember he is doing all three races (a triple) so he had better be kicking ass. You can hear people cheering to the sides and behind making every moment worth it more and more. But, as I run the route seems to be getting longer and longer. This is the lengthiest 1.5 mile run I have ever been on. When I get to the turn around, a huge sigh comes over me and I realize I know only have another half of what I just did left. Still worrying about this missing lap. I can't shake this negative vibe. Leaving people behind me and seeing the bib #'s still going the way that I just came from. I can't help but enjoy seeing lower numbers than me just now getting to the run. Must be the people I passed. Coming up to another hydration area. Grab a cup of water thinking that I can squeeze the cup and drink. Fail. Water ever where. It did help in washing off the drink from earlier now crusting up on my skin. I can see the exit for the finish and pick up my pace hoping that crossing that finish line I will hear my name and realize what this is all for.
Finish!!!
I veer left off the path towards the finish. There are tons of people cheering and shouting to "Go, Go, Go!" and I can see the arch. I cross one set of timing carpet and the announcer says "Alright Calvin. Way to go." I raise up my arms and pass through the finish line. I just did it. I did my first triathlon ever. For a brief moment I forgot about the laps, forgot about the toughness of the swim, forgot how much work I had done to reach this point. It was over. But my glory was extremely short lived because I had a 10 year old Mexican boy pointing at me wanting my timing chip from my ankle. Little bastard, do you know what I just did. I don't want you killing my glory. I rip off my anklet and hand him the chip. It now sinks into me what I have just accomplished. I try hard to fight back these emotions that are now pouring into me. I look around for Reina. Grab a banana and head out of the finish area. Reina is there and I am so worked up now that the only thing that can come out of my mouth is "I think I screwed up." Really. All I can think about is how i might have done all of this for absolutely nothing. Reina is trying to keep me calm and certifying to me that I had finished all of it. Of course I argue back and say I hadn't. Here I am not being able to enjoy what had just happened because of a stupid gaffe.
Results
In the end, Reina and I figured out that I had done 3 laps. In my mental fart, I had failed to realize I had seen her 2 times and 1 time I hadn't. So we walked back to the house and I took a deeply needed shower, of course being care full to wash around the numbers on my arms and back of leg. A sort of war paint. At about 7pm the race results came in.
| Overall Place | 142 / 804 |
| Gender Place | 111 / 353 |
| Division Place | 22 / 81 |
| Swim | 00:08:43 |
| Bike | 00:22:57 |
| Run | 00:14:31 |
| Swimrank | 188 |
| Bikerank | 180 |
| Mph | 16.2 |
| Runrank | 146 |
| Pace | 00:09:40 |
So. When is the next one????
