Third time is a charm, right?

It’s becoming quite clear that I need a steeper learning curve when it comes to long course triathlon.

Last year, I started my first-ever long course race at Wildflower and suffered a two-minute stand-down penalty on the bike for riding oblivious to elite non-drafting rules, which are different from amateur rules and quite convoluted (They require athletes to be staggered on the road to the right of left of the rider in front of them, regardless of how far in front the rider is). I also dealt with ghost shifting problems that I later realized, with the help of friends, could be attributed to my riding a 10 speed bike with a 9-speed cassette from my disk wheel. I dropped out, not wanting to ruin myself for the Oly-distance race the next day; I hoped to defend my win from the year before.

This year, I rode a 10-speed cassette and rode staggered on the road. But, no, that doesn’t mean I finished and it doesn’t mean there wasn’t more learning this year. After coming out of the water in the top 5 with the lead group and riding strong (still in the top 5) for about 35 miles, I started to get uncomfortable in my bike position (which is perfect for Oly-distance races, but perhaps too aggressive for this long of a race) and started to fatigue a little. I finished the bike ok, having been passed by about 6 or 7 guys on the last half of the bike and pretty much given up on finishing in the money (With a good race, I think top ten was within reach. I really wanted to finish my first half, so I kept going. I ran fine for about 7 miles, hitting up water at most aid stations. After telling myself I wouldn’t walk the tough hills of miles 4 and 5, I had to walk around mile 7. I walked a bit, started running again, walked again up the hill in the camping area, tried running again, walked again (and at this point started dealing with emotions). At this point I was telling myself its okay to walk, but you must finish. Then I came to the Cal Tri cheering squad (which was in full force). They got me to run a bit more, but then I came to a big hill around mile 10 and started walking it. Then I tried running a bit more and my body had it. I couldn’t go anymore. I turned around and walked (probably about 2 miles back to the festival area).

So what did I learn this time? Eat, even if you don’t feel like you want to or need to. By the time you think you need to it, it’s too late. I ate two gels on the bike and drank about one water bottle and one Gatorade bottle. On the run, I drank water at about 5 of 8 aid stations. I started to feel hungry in the run. After the race I asked people how much they ate—wondering what went so wrong and suspecting I didn’t eat enough. The consensus was I should have taken on at least 4 times as many calories as I did.

I pretty much went into the race not respecting the course or the challenge a 70.3 race presents. I thought to myself that I had bike that long in training this season and run nearly that long, so it would be no problem to finish. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The pain I felt on Saturday was different than the pain I feel in Oly-distance races. I think what I did no Saturday was the most excruciating endeavor I have ever undertaken. Probably I could have made it less bad if I had eaten properly. Regardless, I have a whole new respect for triathletes who race the long distances. It’s a very different beast than Oly-distance. One I will hope to tame next year (or maybe later this year).