Henry Hagg Lake, Portland, Oregon
I’ve been a bit delinquent on recapping an extraordinary weekend of racing against the best short course triathletes in the country. Immediately after returning from Portland, I had to hop on a plane for a short business trip to Chicago. I wish I could have just used the same suitcase as I had already packed for the race, but my clients would probably not be too impressed with me showing up in my tri top and shorts awash in various Gu and Gatorade stains and fermented in a musky ode de Durban. Hence, I was forced to repack the suitcase Sunday night with fresh undies and a few shirts that passed the sniff test.
I had every intention of sitting down over the weekend to recap Nationals, but I was first distracted by Mike and Clancy’s wedding (and frankly, I’m still a bit distracted thinking back to the bridesmaids’ dresses or lack thereof). Despite being a bit chilly outdoors at the Garre winery, when the wedding party entered, I believe the collective core temperatures went up a bit. Clancy and Mike have an eclectic group of friends who seemed to mesh well as the night progressed, helped I assume, by copious amounts of the local wine and little bottles of Patron tequila Mike was distributing. Although I did not see any triathlete Lycra or Spandex, I did spy plenty of leather and lace and more than one tattoo and piercing. By the end of the evening, many of the triathletes were giving the others advice on speedy transitions and the proper use of a Body Glide while they received recommendations for the best place to get M-dot tattoos and naval piercings.
Friday night was a failure, so I thought maybe I could squeeze in some time Saturday or Sunday to write my race report. The twins thought differently. Saturday was spent getting all the family hair trimmed, a task much more arduous and time consuming now that the Twins actually have hair. After surviving the Great Clip-off, we adjourned to Kelby’s 30th B-Day bash to help educate her on how to avoid the pitfalls of old age. It’s sad to think that just last week, Kelby was a vibrant, vivacious, 29 year old woman, with a positive outlook on life, then “wham” she hit 30. We had to delicately explain to her that it was all downhill from there, the best times were behind her, and she now was relegated to nights of falling asleep to Jay Leno, days spent buying Depends at Costco, and driving 40 MPH in the fast lane in a large beige Buick.
I thought I would get up early Sunday to work on my report, but the Twins beat me to the punch sounding the alarm at the butt crack of dawn. Even roosters have the sense to wait until there is some sunlight filtering over the horizon, but my Boys don’t roll that way. At some hour before 6AM, they greeted us with stereophonic screams delivered at the perfectly tuned pitch guaranteed to make the neighborhood dogs howl, loosen the bowels of the most constipated amongst us, and fracture the slim veneer of sanity I had managed to acquire after 4 meager hours of sleep.
Since my better half had to travel out of town leaving me to do my worst Dustin Hoffman impression on Monday, no progress on the race report was made or even attempted.
So, I sit now at my computer, with the memories of my first Nationals experience slowly fading into the chaotic jumble of my sleep deprived memory and attempt to peck out something coherent and witty. Here goes…
Last year, my good friend Jan suggested I go to National Age Group Championships with him. I had already qualified at the Rancho Seco Tri for Real, so I agreed. I planned my 2008 racing season to give me plenty of opportunities to polish my Oly racing skills. My coach, Patricia, returned to keep me focused and grounded. I hit the track with Steve and Carrie and had Simon drag me on weekly tempo runs. I even participated in an Endurance Performance “spin” class with Jan which was about as related to your local 24 Hour Fitness spin class as the Tour de France is related to a local bike race among 5 year olds on Big Wheels. For 90 minutes, I was clipped into my bike atop a Computrainer while my measly wattage output was displayed at the front of the room for all to ridicule and deride. Needless to say, it was a humbling experience, but constructive in that I realized I had some key work to do on my cadence and pedal stroke.
All the training culminated in the big race on September 20th at Hagg Lake near Portland. Jan and I decided to drive up there to avoid having our bikes disassembled by the airline gremlins and gorillas. Rather than taking a leisurely 1 hour flight, we opted for a 10 hour journey interrupted only by the occasional Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast or Arby’s beef and chedder. Our friend, Dave, joined our now two car caravan somewhere north of Sacramento. Somehow, his friends Jim and Lindy had convinced him to bring their bikes up to Portland for them, while they flew. Lucky, for Jim, he was not in Dave’s age group or I could have predicted Jim would have encountered some mysterious bike trouble mid-race.
The drive was fairly uneventful although anytime we smelled anything remotely like smoke, Jan started to tense up (reference my Pacific Crest race report for details). I assured him that I had brought along two fire extinguishers, a couple bottles of water, and in the case of another complete car-b-que, a bag of marshmallows. While Jan drove, I fired up my computer and we enjoyed the award winning “Harold and Kumar go to Guantanamo Bay”. We had to be careful since Jan almost rear-ended the car in front of us during some scenes when he was distracted by the scrotum wig and the untimely demise of Neil Patrick Harris. I would have hated to explain to the police officer why Jan crashed. Well, he was watching this movie see and this scene came on showing this guy with lots of hair…down there…you know what I mean? It looked like this short bald guy with a curly black afro. At that point, I think both of us would be getting a free ride to the local police station.
When we arrived in Portland, we found Moe to our Larry and Curly. Monica MZ joined us for the weekend to represent the Elite team and show us girly men how to race a triathlon and look fabulous doing it. We caught up with her for a fun night at the local Benihana for a little carbo loading of sushi and Sapporo. I made the major gaffe of the evening when a family seated at our table was celebrating a birthday. The waiter set the birthday cake in front of the young boy of the family and his Dad. After the singing, I asked in my best talking to a six year old voice “how old are you today Justin”. Well, it was not the boy’s birthday and the Dad answered in his baritone of a voice “32!”. From that point forward, 32 became the official number of the weekend.
Friday was filled with the usual pre-race preparations. We went out to Hagg lake which despite the advertisements is not anywhere near Portland. I think it was closer to Spokane than Portland. We registered and ran into about 523 people Monica knew, and then did a quick lap of the bike course. As we were toweling off from a short swim following our ride, I witnessed my first public male castration. Some poor schlep who had come to watch the kids and support his triathlete wife failed to move quickly enough for her. Apparently, he was supposed to be stripped down to his bathing suit and standing in the water in order to keep an eye on the kidlets who were playing at the water’s edge. Rather than quietly and discretely discussing her wishes with him, she broadcast it in front of 50 or so athletes. I think she would have been kinder if she had used a dull knife. Even Monica felt sorry for the guy.
Race morning was made extra anxiety ridden with a miles long back-up of cars waiting to park and then another long line of jittery Joes and Janes waiting to get on the bus to take us to the start line. I’m always fascinated by how serious and stressed triathletes are before a race. I’m sure I’m guilty of pre-race jitters, but I do try to remind myself that triathlon is not my job and the experience should be fun, not a chore and not something to chew out some hapless parking volunteer over. I think the poor guy’s intestines are still lying in that field after the evisceration he took at the hands of a not-so-nice age grouper.
Monica suffered a minor concussion when clueless Curt walked down the aisle of the bus with his helmet dangling from his backpack whacking every person on the right side of the bus in the back of the head. Jan and I were just happy that maybe a concussion would slow her down a bit and we would be able to keep our Man Card after the race.
The race was intense. I was able to stay in the middle of my age group throughout the race, picking up a few spots on the bike and the run; one hapless roadkill even met his fate 20 feet from the finish. This was Nationals afterall, so finisher’s chute roadkill was acceptable in my book. Dave and I traded off the lead on the bike what seemed like 20 times. Everytime I would pull a lead on him on one of the climbs, he would blow by me on the downhills. I finally was able to close the lid on him when we got to the run due to some motivation from Jan as he was finishing up and the fact Dave was suffering from a knee injury. He ran an admirable race coming in mere minutes behind me. Monica looked great in all her Diva-esque glory and Jan made all of us proud by qualifying for Worlds with an impressive 13th AG. Dean Harper, also of the Elite team won his age group and Hanns D. finished strong in his AG. I was proud of my race, but I will not be going to World’s next year unless I am motivated to try again in Tuscaloosa, AL. Although I’m not sure racing a triathlon in the backwaters of Alabama in a lycra tri suit with shaved legs is such a good idea. Is that banjo music I hear?
Monday, November 10, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
My Man Card
After being with my wife Janine for 15 years, I’ve come to the realization, actually came to the realization long ago, that I’m not worthy of my membership in the man club. Occasionally I may open a jar or lift a heavy object (not too heavy mind you) or get us to our destination without asking for directions, but not nearly enough to assuage my fragile male ego and maintain my man certification in good standing.
When faced with a spouse or partner who consistently excels at an athletic pursuit you yourself also dabble in without the stellar results achieved by said spouse, most men resort to buying large trucks, growing a goatee, or riding a Harley Davidson. Oh, well, yes, I did buy and ride that crotch rocket motorcycle for a few years, but that does not count since I sold it to buy a Janine a new triathlon bike so she could go even faster.
What does this have to do with the TBF Tri 4 Real #3 Olympic distance triathlon this past Sunday you may ask? Well, what was left of my brittle id was shattered into tiny little pieces when Janine completed her trifecta of first place age group finishes to win the overall series title. She smashed the competition by over 20 minutes to win. She joins our own Elite triathlete Clancy as a series champion.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that Janine will be on the podium (despite popping out twins less than a year ago, being in Dara Torres age group, and working a full time job) and I will be taking the pictures from the crowd. Really, I’m OK with it, really. I don’t need my man card anymore anyways. What good is it other than for a discount at Hooters or 10% off motor oil at Kragens? I’m still a man, right? Just because my wife schools me everytime we race together doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man, does it? I still have that subscription to Maxim and can fix a leaky faucet (ah, c’mon, I only called my friend Randy twice for help with that faucet). Those things count, don’t they?
A few others joined us for Rancho Seco last weekend. Christy and Patrick were there with Christy going the distance and Patrick doing volunteer duty. Christy raced to a solid 23rd in her AG. Scott B. came out for his first TBF Tri 4 Real and knocked out a 19th AG, 73rd overall. Clancy scored a 4th AG despite more wedding planning than training the last few months. I eeked out a 6th AG and 15th OA with an improvement in my run time I credit to Tuesday morning track workouts and Friday morning tempo runs with Simon.
Janine offered to let me hold her series champion trophy and to even wear her series champion shirt to work on Monday, but these kind gestures were just not enough to repair my ego and restore my membership in the man club. I think my best plan is to accept my fate, be proud of Janine’s accomplishments, and keep training.
Although…I did hear there is a big sale on trucks down at the Chevy dealer.
When faced with a spouse or partner who consistently excels at an athletic pursuit you yourself also dabble in without the stellar results achieved by said spouse, most men resort to buying large trucks, growing a goatee, or riding a Harley Davidson. Oh, well, yes, I did buy and ride that crotch rocket motorcycle for a few years, but that does not count since I sold it to buy a Janine a new triathlon bike so she could go even faster.
What does this have to do with the TBF Tri 4 Real #3 Olympic distance triathlon this past Sunday you may ask? Well, what was left of my brittle id was shattered into tiny little pieces when Janine completed her trifecta of first place age group finishes to win the overall series title. She smashed the competition by over 20 minutes to win. She joins our own Elite triathlete Clancy as a series champion.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that Janine will be on the podium (despite popping out twins less than a year ago, being in Dara Torres age group, and working a full time job) and I will be taking the pictures from the crowd. Really, I’m OK with it, really. I don’t need my man card anymore anyways. What good is it other than for a discount at Hooters or 10% off motor oil at Kragens? I’m still a man, right? Just because my wife schools me everytime we race together doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man, does it? I still have that subscription to Maxim and can fix a leaky faucet (ah, c’mon, I only called my friend Randy twice for help with that faucet). Those things count, don’t they?
A few others joined us for Rancho Seco last weekend. Christy and Patrick were there with Christy going the distance and Patrick doing volunteer duty. Christy raced to a solid 23rd in her AG. Scott B. came out for his first TBF Tri 4 Real and knocked out a 19th AG, 73rd overall. Clancy scored a 4th AG despite more wedding planning than training the last few months. I eeked out a 6th AG and 15th OA with an improvement in my run time I credit to Tuesday morning track workouts and Friday morning tempo runs with Simon.
Janine offered to let me hold her series champion trophy and to even wear her series champion shirt to work on Monday, but these kind gestures were just not enough to repair my ego and restore my membership in the man club. I think my best plan is to accept my fate, be proud of Janine’s accomplishments, and keep training.
Although…I did hear there is a big sale on trucks down at the Chevy dealer.
Friday, July 25, 2008
TBF Tri 4 Real #2
Three of us represented FMRC at this past Sunday's TBF Tri 4 Real.Janine, Steve Sherman, and I battled the perfect weather, relativelyflat course, and great race organization to have a great time andtake home some schwag.My very talented wife, Janine, rocked the women's 40-44 age group to once again take home 1st place gold. Needless to say, with two 1stplace wins in the Tri 4 Real summer series, she stands an excellent chance of taking home the series prize. The last and final race is August 3rd.Steve came out for the first time to try his hand at the Rancho race. He raced to an impressive 8th AG and 52nd OA in his very competitve age group. He commented after the race that he particularly enjoyed the heat and dust during the second half of the run. I'm sure if he decided to come back in August, the conditions will meet his expectations even more. I had a mediocre swim, but was surprised to find I beat a friend from Masters, Dave Simons, out of the water and on to the bike. I was a bit dismayed when he went by me at mile 5, so I sucked it up and tried to stay with him. I kept about a 5 bike length gap with him until the turn around at mile 12, and then he disappeared. I hoped he had been abducted by aliens, but no such luck as I saw his bike in T2. Trying to stay with him did allow me to set a new PR on the bike, so not all was lost. I chased on the run and pulled backsome of his time coming in about 45 seconds behind him good for 4thAG and 11 OA.I thought as I got older my competition would either 1)get slower 2)quit triathlon to play more golf or 3) die off, but it seems they are just getting faster. The overall winner for the men was John Murphy from San Francisco with a time of 2:01. If he shows up next month, I'm thinking I'm going to have to call up Tonya Harding and see if her ex-husband can help me out otherwise I'm going to have to consider some doping.
Pacific Crest Triathlons 2008
We thought taking a road trip to Sunriver Oregon with our 10 month old twins would be a great way to relieve work and home stress. To even further increase the calming effects of our vacation we decided to each sign up for a triathlon. Janine imagined back in December she would have plenty of time to train for a ½ Ironman in between work travel, caring for the boys, and keeping me in line while I planned on doing an Oly a month to prepare for Age Group Nationals in September. The Pacific Crest triathlons were the perfect setup for our craziness. Janine would race on Saturday and I would push the boys around to see her and I would race on Sunday and she would sit in the air conditioned comfort of the cabin sipping Margaritas.
We invited our friends Jan, Jen, and Jayden because we wanted to maximize the J-ness of our trip. Jan was prepping for a sub-4:30 go at the Vineman 70.3 so he signed up for the ½ Ironman at Pac Crest while his wife went for the Olympic distance race to keep me company. 3-year old Jayden had his own event to plan for, entertaining two little boys for 6 days while their parents were off racing in the heat drenched high desert.
Preparing and packing for a 6 day road trip with twin infants is not quite the same as the planning and logistics of the Normandy invasion, but at times seemed awfully close. I started a few months ago when I realized getting two bikes, two babies, two feeding chairs, a double jog stroller, a portable crib, triathlon gear, clothes, food, and toys into anything smaller than a semi trailer was going to take either an act of organization worthy of the Berlin airlift or I was going to need a roof top carrier and a hitch rack. Thanks to the magic of the Internets, I soon had a Thule coffin shaped cargo box for the top of the Pacifica and nifty new hitch bicycle rack. I was pretty proud of myself at this point until I woke one morning and happen to be bending down behind the Pacifica to retrieve the morning paper and discovered it did not have a hitch. You would think that would have been the first thing I checked, but alas, it was not. I quickly scurried to my trusty laptop and looked up hitches. Lucky for me, before anyone could ask where I planned to plug in my nifty new hitch rack, I was at the local U-Haul having the hitch installed.
The day arrived quickly for our departure and the plan was to get up in the wee hours , transfer the boys, hopefully still sleeping, from their cribs to car seats, and get at least 4 hours of the drive under our belt before we received our stereo wake-up feed us now scream. All went according to plan except neither TriTwinMom nor I was prepared to drive at 3:30AM. Somehow we managed to make it Redding and a conveniently located Dennys. We pulled in, unloaded the boys, descended on the poor unsuspecting Denny’s denizens, and occupied a corner booth. After overcoming my shock that a Grand Slam breakfast was no longer $1.99 (it’s been awhile since I visited Dennys) we ordered and proceeded to feed the boys while they charmed the waitresses and customers alike. As a proud papa, I have to say our boys garnered the majority of attention from the wait staff to the detriment of the other patrons.
The remainder of the trip north passed smoothly with the boys alternating between sleeping, playing with Mom, and screaming for their next bottle. We all arrived safely in Sunriver and invaded, I mean moved into our rental cabin. We scoped out the courses, did a short swim , drove the bike course, and took the boys for a run to recon the run course. The weather was wonderful, but we kept hearing from the local news that a heat wave was coming on Saturday and Sunday just in time for the races.
Race morning for Janine and Jan did not come too early due to the very civilized 9AM start time. I shuttled them to Wikiup reservoir with Josh riding shotgun. Jake was still sleeping when we left the cabin, a phenomenon we had not experienced since he came into our lives. I dropped our long course competitors at the swim start and headed back to Sunriver. The Pacific Crest triathlons are point to point races, so there are separate T1 and T2s about 28 miles apart. The long course racers circumnavigate Mt. Bachelor between T1 and T2 while the Olympic competitors take the direct route to T2. Not long after arriving back at the cabin, in walks Janine with her bike in tow. Unfortunately, after a stellar swim, her crank arm decided to mutiny and jump ship at mile 10. She was able to negotiate a ride back to T1 and from there another ride in the Gear Truck to the Finish Line. The Finish was about ½ mile from the cabin, so she walked from there. Once home, most sane people would have called it quits, but Janine kept muttering something about getting her money’s worth and headed out to T2 to run the remaining half marathon. At this point the temperature was 97°F, she had a 2 mile run to reach T2 in her trail shoes, a switch to her racing flats, then a half marathon in scorching heat and 4000 foot altitude. She ran a respectful sub 2 hour half and received her finisher’s medal and t-shirt. I offered to cut 1/3rd from the medal and shirt, but she was still annoyed with my bike maintenance skills or lack thereof that allowed her crank arm to fall off and threatened me with bodily harm.
After cracking 5 hours at Wildflower, Jan set a new goal of going sub 4:45 in a half Ironman, so needless to say he was a stress monkey up until race day. He played footsie with the lead swimmers and came out of the water with the race leaders, then set a blistering pace on the bike averaging an amazing 30 MPH on the last 18 miles of the bike (it is partially downhill, but still…). He suffered on the run due to killing himself on the bike, but managed a sub 1:35 for the half marathon. He met his goal of breaking 4:45 by coming in 4:44 good for 3rd in his Age Group and 15th overall. The overall winner of the race, Matt Lieto, also in Jan’s 30-34 AG, finished in an astounding 4:10.
My race the next day was pretty straightforward. I had a good swim, although I think it might have been a bit long evidenced by my and my competitor’s times. The bike was extremely fast with a good 12-15 miles being either flat or downhill. I fell into the trap of riding much harder and faster lured by my bike computer flashing 30…31…32 MPH for such a long period of time. When I arrived at T2, I was done. My legs felt like they had been drained of go juice, so I literally slogged the first few miles of the 10K. Seeing Janine and the boys at mile 2 and having Jan yell something about moving my arms helped spur me on. I finished with the temperatures already hitting the high 90’s and was pleasantly surprised I placed 3rd in my AG and 9th overall. My prize was a nice Widmer pint glass and a coupon for a free beer. I would not recommend a beer shortly after a race as proper recovery fuel or hydration, but it sure tasted good. Apparently another competitor in my AG was found in the middle of the night and his chip time placed him in front of me, so the official results say I came in 4th, but I’m keeping my medal and glass and good luck getting any of that beer back. Jan’s wife, Jennifer, racing for the 1st time in 5 years and only having ridden her bike outdoors twice before the race, cracked the top ten in her AG.
Normally a race report would end after the race ended, but not in this case. We stayed in Sunriver for an additional 3 days to do a little biking, swimming, and hiking with the boys. Our remaining time was uneventful except for 1 attack by carnivorous mosquitoes and a close encountered with a cell-phone using, cigarette smoking, loudmouth jackass while we tried to have a nice picnic next to the Deschutes river. We deployed to another location and had a pleasant time. The eventful part of our post-race experience came when we started the return home process.
Jan, Jen, and Jayden left Sunriver about 1 ½ hours before we were able to mobilize. When we finally hit the road, we received a call from Jan informing us that their car was on fire. I said “ha ha, funny joke”, but he replied, “no joke, our car will probably be ashes by the time you get here”. He was right, when we arrived; we witnessed the very sad sight of the three of them standing on the side of the road just north of Klamath Falls, next o a pile of their belongings and the smoldering remains of their 2001 Dodge Intrepid. We slowed down so we could properly rubberneck and held out some marshmallows to take advantage of the nice carbeque. I don’t think they saw the humor in it, but they were in surprising good spirits. Somehow we managed to get them and all of their belongings down to the Hertz counter at the Klamath Falls Airport so they could rent a car. After settling with the rental company, the tow truck company, and the fire department, we all went out for some lunch. When I asked them where they would like to eat, they said anything was fine…just not BBQ!
We invited our friends Jan, Jen, and Jayden because we wanted to maximize the J-ness of our trip. Jan was prepping for a sub-4:30 go at the Vineman 70.3 so he signed up for the ½ Ironman at Pac Crest while his wife went for the Olympic distance race to keep me company. 3-year old Jayden had his own event to plan for, entertaining two little boys for 6 days while their parents were off racing in the heat drenched high desert.
Preparing and packing for a 6 day road trip with twin infants is not quite the same as the planning and logistics of the Normandy invasion, but at times seemed awfully close. I started a few months ago when I realized getting two bikes, two babies, two feeding chairs, a double jog stroller, a portable crib, triathlon gear, clothes, food, and toys into anything smaller than a semi trailer was going to take either an act of organization worthy of the Berlin airlift or I was going to need a roof top carrier and a hitch rack. Thanks to the magic of the Internets, I soon had a Thule coffin shaped cargo box for the top of the Pacifica and nifty new hitch bicycle rack. I was pretty proud of myself at this point until I woke one morning and happen to be bending down behind the Pacifica to retrieve the morning paper and discovered it did not have a hitch. You would think that would have been the first thing I checked, but alas, it was not. I quickly scurried to my trusty laptop and looked up hitches. Lucky for me, before anyone could ask where I planned to plug in my nifty new hitch rack, I was at the local U-Haul having the hitch installed.
The day arrived quickly for our departure and the plan was to get up in the wee hours , transfer the boys, hopefully still sleeping, from their cribs to car seats, and get at least 4 hours of the drive under our belt before we received our stereo wake-up feed us now scream. All went according to plan except neither TriTwinMom nor I was prepared to drive at 3:30AM. Somehow we managed to make it Redding and a conveniently located Dennys. We pulled in, unloaded the boys, descended on the poor unsuspecting Denny’s denizens, and occupied a corner booth. After overcoming my shock that a Grand Slam breakfast was no longer $1.99 (it’s been awhile since I visited Dennys) we ordered and proceeded to feed the boys while they charmed the waitresses and customers alike. As a proud papa, I have to say our boys garnered the majority of attention from the wait staff to the detriment of the other patrons.
The remainder of the trip north passed smoothly with the boys alternating between sleeping, playing with Mom, and screaming for their next bottle. We all arrived safely in Sunriver and invaded, I mean moved into our rental cabin. We scoped out the courses, did a short swim , drove the bike course, and took the boys for a run to recon the run course. The weather was wonderful, but we kept hearing from the local news that a heat wave was coming on Saturday and Sunday just in time for the races.
Race morning for Janine and Jan did not come too early due to the very civilized 9AM start time. I shuttled them to Wikiup reservoir with Josh riding shotgun. Jake was still sleeping when we left the cabin, a phenomenon we had not experienced since he came into our lives. I dropped our long course competitors at the swim start and headed back to Sunriver. The Pacific Crest triathlons are point to point races, so there are separate T1 and T2s about 28 miles apart. The long course racers circumnavigate Mt. Bachelor between T1 and T2 while the Olympic competitors take the direct route to T2. Not long after arriving back at the cabin, in walks Janine with her bike in tow. Unfortunately, after a stellar swim, her crank arm decided to mutiny and jump ship at mile 10. She was able to negotiate a ride back to T1 and from there another ride in the Gear Truck to the Finish Line. The Finish was about ½ mile from the cabin, so she walked from there. Once home, most sane people would have called it quits, but Janine kept muttering something about getting her money’s worth and headed out to T2 to run the remaining half marathon. At this point the temperature was 97°F, she had a 2 mile run to reach T2 in her trail shoes, a switch to her racing flats, then a half marathon in scorching heat and 4000 foot altitude. She ran a respectful sub 2 hour half and received her finisher’s medal and t-shirt. I offered to cut 1/3rd from the medal and shirt, but she was still annoyed with my bike maintenance skills or lack thereof that allowed her crank arm to fall off and threatened me with bodily harm.
After cracking 5 hours at Wildflower, Jan set a new goal of going sub 4:45 in a half Ironman, so needless to say he was a stress monkey up until race day. He played footsie with the lead swimmers and came out of the water with the race leaders, then set a blistering pace on the bike averaging an amazing 30 MPH on the last 18 miles of the bike (it is partially downhill, but still…). He suffered on the run due to killing himself on the bike, but managed a sub 1:35 for the half marathon. He met his goal of breaking 4:45 by coming in 4:44 good for 3rd in his Age Group and 15th overall. The overall winner of the race, Matt Lieto, also in Jan’s 30-34 AG, finished in an astounding 4:10.
My race the next day was pretty straightforward. I had a good swim, although I think it might have been a bit long evidenced by my and my competitor’s times. The bike was extremely fast with a good 12-15 miles being either flat or downhill. I fell into the trap of riding much harder and faster lured by my bike computer flashing 30…31…32 MPH for such a long period of time. When I arrived at T2, I was done. My legs felt like they had been drained of go juice, so I literally slogged the first few miles of the 10K. Seeing Janine and the boys at mile 2 and having Jan yell something about moving my arms helped spur me on. I finished with the temperatures already hitting the high 90’s and was pleasantly surprised I placed 3rd in my AG and 9th overall. My prize was a nice Widmer pint glass and a coupon for a free beer. I would not recommend a beer shortly after a race as proper recovery fuel or hydration, but it sure tasted good. Apparently another competitor in my AG was found in the middle of the night and his chip time placed him in front of me, so the official results say I came in 4th, but I’m keeping my medal and glass and good luck getting any of that beer back. Jan’s wife, Jennifer, racing for the 1st time in 5 years and only having ridden her bike outdoors twice before the race, cracked the top ten in her AG.
Normally a race report would end after the race ended, but not in this case. We stayed in Sunriver for an additional 3 days to do a little biking, swimming, and hiking with the boys. Our remaining time was uneventful except for 1 attack by carnivorous mosquitoes and a close encountered with a cell-phone using, cigarette smoking, loudmouth jackass while we tried to have a nice picnic next to the Deschutes river. We deployed to another location and had a pleasant time. The eventful part of our post-race experience came when we started the return home process.
Jan, Jen, and Jayden left Sunriver about 1 ½ hours before we were able to mobilize. When we finally hit the road, we received a call from Jan informing us that their car was on fire. I said “ha ha, funny joke”, but he replied, “no joke, our car will probably be ashes by the time you get here”. He was right, when we arrived; we witnessed the very sad sight of the three of them standing on the side of the road just north of Klamath Falls, next o a pile of their belongings and the smoldering remains of their 2001 Dodge Intrepid. We slowed down so we could properly rubberneck and held out some marshmallows to take advantage of the nice carbeque. I don’t think they saw the humor in it, but they were in surprising good spirits. Somehow we managed to get them and all of their belongings down to the Hertz counter at the Klamath Falls Airport so they could rent a car. After settling with the rental company, the tow truck company, and the fire department, we all went out for some lunch. When I asked them where they would like to eat, they said anything was fine…just not BBQ!
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