The Crossbar Mishap
Hi Jeff, here is a funny thing that happened to me while training for Ironman in NZ. The Aukland based Tri club that I joined had a very regimented coach who had, at some point in his life, been a fitness instructor for the police. His style was extremely militaristic and he often got over enthusiastic about shaving the extra half second of our times. Of course, transitions offered the ideal opportunity to put us through our paces.
One area of concern for the coach was my, and a British friend's, rather relaxed attitude to mounting our bikes after the swim. You see, the Kiwis take triathlon extremely seriously and there is no time to be waisted hoppping onto the saddle. We had to learn to master the art of jumping onto the bike from the running position. So, he had us attach our shoes to the pedal and then instructed us to run, at some speed, up to our bike - remove it from the rack and launch ourselves at fairly high speed.
The first to go was a British friend of mine who felt that his confidence would easily pull him through this challenging test. He meticulously attaches his shoes to the pedals and hangs the bike on the transition rack. Taking 50 paces back, his enthusiasm gets the better of him and his judgment of his own speed was slightly skewed. Things don't go as planned.
It is always wise to try this wearing cycling shorts over a swim suit. Needless to say, my friend seemed to glide towards the bike with an effortless intensity that surprised us all but we knew he had over-reached his abilities once he had gone past the saddle.
The cross bar could not have been a nice experience. The screaming was hard to watch and we all felt some of the pain, which must have been excruciating. He did a great deal of damage (and not to the bike).
So now every time I attach my shoes to the pedals I have a wry smile and think of that day in Auckland NZ.
Perry
The Race of a Lifetime
I am telling you a short story of My Ironman Day.....
The day was great. The weather could not have been better. Roughly in the 70's and reaching in the low 80's and cool. I felt like I was going to have a great day!
First was the swim. Yes, it was over 1,800 competitors and I felt very cramped and pushed, pulled, and kicked the whole hour plus of the swim.
As I exited the water I was happy with my swim and went to the bike. I had recently had a bike accident and thought my pain was relieved.
Wrong! At mile 3 on the bike, my gluteus maximus had a huge knot in it, and my calve was tightening up. This went on for 40 miles. Then, (thanks Aleve) I loosened up and finished the ride. Not really fast, but avg. about 19+mph. I was still ok.
The next part was the run. I left the transition area at 7 hours plus a few minutes and thought I could have a great finish. Well, my run was the same way. Lots of pain, but 3 Aleve later and my first 13 miles of pain went away. I was on my way to finishing strong. Well, I shouldn't say finished strong, because it was not as well as my two previous years.
Here is the big news. Thanks to a bunch of friends who kept secrets, helped me shop, and participated in the hand off, here is the surprise. The last part of the run is about a 1/2 way around a track, where the finish line appears. On both sides of the track are hundreds of screaming fans and an announcer yelling " #300, you are an Ironman!"
Well, he does this for all the competitors except me. What he did was read something I showed him. My mother had something she was holding all day. She handed off that something and gave it to my training buddy and Great friend Clay. This is when her and Deborah made their way to the finish line to meet me. By the way Deborah had 100% no idea! Clay, met me about 50 yards from me entering this oval track. He handed me the goods and there I went to do my surprise. I rounded the corner, unrolled the banner, and the crowd went wild! I was on the Jumbo-tron and the announcer finally saw the banner and said over the loud speaker, " Deb, Will You Marry Me? ". I crossed the finish line with Banner over my head and Deborah was totally in tears. I went down on one knee ( praying I could get up afterward) Showed her the ring and asked her to marry me. She said yes and it was all very exciting!
Yes my time was 11:36 and not what I expected, but I have started a new chapter in my life with my wonderful future bride!
Thanks to all of you for your many e-mails, support, and help!
Many thanks to my Mother, Clay, Patty, Adam and all my friends who helped keep the secret and make this happen!
Doug
“2 or 5?”
Here is a quick one:
When I had just moved to the area (4-5 years ago) I got to know our fearless team "leaders" Doug & Clay..... and was introduced to the "Saturday morning wheels-up 7am ride".
It was a brilliant late spring Saturday morning I had never ridden with the team before. I turned up at exit #41 early to make sure I had a chance to pump up my tires and spin around the parking lot. I saw Doug changing next to his car and Clay walked out from behind a tree with toilet paper in hand.
I waited a few moments to make sure they two were decent and went over to re-introduce myself. Of course they welcomed me and within 5-10 mins there was a crowd of about 12 triathletes ready to hit the road. Being a novice at triathlon, I was amazed to see that most had all sorts of gear, including double water bottle cages on the back of their seat posts and back pockets full of stuff.
With the good turn-out, the pace up to Bethel was going at a good clip. I was just happy to keep up.
At a certain point in Bethel, at least directionally it felt as if we had just completed a big u-turn and were headed back south towards the coast when the group split in two...
Doug looked back at me and yelled, "2 or 5?"
I replied, "What?"
He retorted, "2 or 5".
My reply, "What are you doing?"...
Doug, "5".
Me, "I'm with you"
Now let me explain. We had been on the road for a little while, not sure exactly how long because I dare not take my hands of my bars to look at my watch but what I thought he meant was "20 or 50" miles.
I was no long distance cyclist but I figured I could keep up with Doug and the four others (keep them anonymous) for a good 50 miles.
...and that "50" mile ride ended up being the first time I cycled a century, to be precise it was 117 miles.
I learned that in terms of riding, triathletes spoke in number of hours, not miles.
I learned that bringing a picnic was not only a good thing but also necessary (many thanks to all who spared a few tubes of GU to get me through) and I learned that one bottle cage was never enough.
It's been fun ever since, and I've seen more of Connecticut and New York State on those long rides with those guys on a few subsequent, but memorable occasions.
Ryan
Crashing into Triathlons
A spectacular Labor Day. A morning sun glistened in the cloudless blue sky. The temperature was just right while I rode. My body felt great. Relaxed, strong, with plenty left. I was one with my bike. We hummed. I looked up at the stunning view around me and thought, “It doesn’t get better than this!” Suddenly, I was flying forward in slow motion. Hitting the black top hard. Scraping my helmet and my right side. My first thought: roll off the one-lane road to the side. Done. Second thought: my front wheel was in a crevice in the road. Third thought: my clothes on my right side were shredded. Lots of skin. A color white I had only seen on a blank page, with specs of gravel. And blood. Plenty of it. And I was banged up…. Too hurt to ride or run for some weeks, I started to chase walls in the Wilton Family Y pool. I knew why I hated swimming. I was so slow. But it didn’t hurt. Once, I stopped and started to chat with a guy in the next lane. He asked how it was going. I told him my sad story, concluding that I liked running and biking so much better. He then asked whether I had ever tried doing tris. I responded that I just didn’t have the time to train for a race that included a century and a full marathon. He then told me of the shorter distances and I thought, “Why not?”. I started training and did my first sprint…. Ahhhhhh. The early morning quiet intensity. The insanity of the start. Surviving the swim. Trying to catch up on the bike. The exhilaration of running through the finish line. The crowd. Feeling accomplished. Feeling good. It all keeps me coming back, even if during those the first moments after the start I think, “What the f___ am I doing here?” Great times. Good fun.
Remy
Wildlife Anyone?
The most memorable training moments I’ve had always seem to involve wildlife… probably because much of my running & biking has taken place either in the woods or on roads that go through the woods. My lowlight was a nasty case of Lyme disease a few years back, which was accompanied by an annoying case of Bell’s Palsy where half my face was paralyzed for 3 weeks. Try swimming when you can’t pucker up your mouth to breathe…
That experience aside, there have been plenty of highlights. I’m told it’s a rare sight to sneak up on a red fox, but I’ve done it three times while running in the woods near my house. Each time the fox has high-tailed it down the trail while I tried to keep up with the agile beast. Owls are of course night animals, but once up near the reservoir in Weston I watched a barn owl with what seemed like a 4-foot wingspan silently swoop down across the road to light up on a branch. His head had to be as big as mine. Last Fall while running down a residential road, I witnessed a red-tailed hawk snatch a squirrel in mid-stride on someone’s front lawn, taking it by the neck up into the huge oak tree above (for breakfast, I’d guess.) On a long run this past November, at 11-o’clock on a Sunday morning I came over a rise to see a full grown coyote standing in the middle of the road about 100 yards ahead. I’ve seen many road-kill coyotes, and a couple live ones too that were all fairly scrawny, but this one must’ve been the alpha male as he seemed like a good 80-90 lbs worth of animal. It was 2 hrs into my run so he may have seemed bigger in my glycogen-depleted state. Deer are a common site on the commute to & from work in most places in Connecticut, but on foot & bike I’ve spooked quite a few who were quietly eating a roadside breakfast. One interesting encounter was with an 8-pointer… he didn’t see me & I didn’t see him until I was 20-25 feet from him, doing at least 20mph of course… he jumped when he saw me and I nearly had a heart attack. Fortunately there was no collision and the buck & I parted amicably.
Finally, my favorite moment was a morning when my workout didn’t even happen. Living on Candlewood Lake in the summer has its advantages for a triathlete, one being the ability to swim open-water before the commute to work. One rather cold & misty morning this past June, as I was walking down the dock with my wetsuit on, I noticed some rather strange chirping sounds coming in & around my dock. As I stepped out onto the wooden “bridge” leading out, I noticed a pair of paws and then a sleek, brown, wet head pop up out of the water on the end of the dock. And then another, then a third. Three river otters had found there way to our little cove and were playing under the dock and around the boat. I stood still for what seemed like an hour as they swam around effortlessly, diving & playing and even chirping at me in protest once in a while. I was far too chicken to attempt to jump in the water with them so I just watched until they took off to their new home in the opposite shoreline. They ended up staying the entire summer, which always kept me nervous during my morning swims. I’m looking forward to seeing my otter buddies next Summer, I trust they’ll stay in their own lane this time.
Don
A Higher Purpose
My most memorable training session/event was 2007 St Anthony's tri in Florida.
At the time I had recently lost my father to prostate cancer and was feeling bottled up inside and needed a healthy way to release a lot of anger and stress. My father was always healthy and in good shape, 3 months before he passed he was re-shingling his garage roof and pouring a new concrete driveway. There was no way for me to help him get better or to fix his ravaged body so feeling helpless I wandered into a local Team in Training meeting and signed up for a triathlon. I had never swam more than in a back yard pool, never been in open water and wasn't in particularly great shape.
To the point: I wanted to race in memory of my father and crossing the finish line was the best feeling I had in a long time. I am no racer by any stretch and a Sprint might as well be an IronMan for me but it felt good to push my body and to hurt. Having the TNT supporters at the finish cheering me on is something I'll never forget. I got hooked on the sport as a result and have since joined Team Mossman and completed 2 additional tri's in 2007 and hope to do a lot more in 2008. I am returning to St Anthonys with TNT for my first race of 08.
Phil