2001 Tin Man Triathlon
So I decided to do a triathlon. On two and a half weeks notice. I figured I was pretty fit - 30 or so miles a week for the last few years, lift a few weights, etc., etc. Run plenty of road races, nineteen minutes and change for a 5k. Biking and swimming, though, figured to be problematic. Maybe been on a bike seven or eight times in the last thirty years, since I was in my early teens. As a swimmer, well, let's just say I am aquatically challenged. I mean, I know how to swim, I had a few lessons as a lad. But, I had swum (swam?) even less than I had biked in those thirty or so years, maybe twice? I had to hope that my aerobic fitness and upper body strength would compensate some for my lack of experience and technique. But there was trouble early - Shreveport's Tin Man Tri was an Olympic, not sprint, triathlon. My "friend" had thought that it was your basic half mile swim/20 mile bike/5k run. Turns out Tin Man is a bit longer: 0.90 mile swim/40k bike/10k run. The extra bike and run distance didn't figure to be too much of a big deal, but the swim - yow! A half mile had seemed like it was maybe doable, barely. Twice that far? Had I not already verbally committed, I might have canceled. I saw John Deshotel at the Run For Kids' Sake and asked about the race and the swim in particular. He indicated the bike course was hilly, not great news, but okay. But I got a lift when he described the lake as 5 to 6 feet deep in most places. The idea that I could stand up if I got too tired or took on too much water was a big boost mentally. A later e-mail to the race director came back with the additional info that there would be boats and canoes along the course that one could grab on to "without penalty". Sounded good to me. In the days before the race, I basically stayed with my usual running and lifting schedule. I managed three bike rides, a 14 and a 17 miler at medium effort, and a fairly hard 17, taking in most of the Cajunman course, including my first look at the scenic Bayou Tortue Rd. We averaged 19 mph on the 17 miler, and I felt fine, except for my butt. On the Bayou Tortue ride, my training partner suggested it would be worthwhile to jump off the bike at the finish, and immediately run just a little bit, to see how it felt. She had suggested the same after my first "long" swim. After the swim, I exited the pool and ran an easy half mile or so - nothing to it. But, getting off the bike was a different story. In the course of two or three strides, I had a brand new appreciation for triathletes. I had used the phrase "my legs were like Jell-O" before, but it had never been so true. I was beyond wobbly or unsteady, had never felt that physically disoriented, even during the worst time of a bad marathon (Huntsville, '97). I didn't run far, only a few hundred yards. People assured me it got better as you warmed into the run, and also, I knew that if I got out of the water, certainly not a given, and off the bike in one piece, also not a cinch, I could finish a 10k. Might have to walk or crawl in spots, but I would finish the run, if I were fortunate enough to make it that far. I swam four times before the race. First was a warm up in a friend's pool, reacquainting myself with strokes learned long ago. I had never been able to do the American crawl, just couldn't master the breathing. I tried the backstroke, no good. Sidestroke, which I had thought of as the one stroke I could do, was also, surprisingly, no dice. I settled on two - the breaststroke, and a thing I do on my back, a sort of frog-like move. Ugly and slow, but it works. Subsequent swims were forty, then fifty minutes. Finally, three days before Tin Man, I swam the race distance, 0.9 miles, in an hour. All the swims were non-stop, except for the briefest possible moments at turns. Aerobically, I was fine. Arms were never tired, during or after, which I took as very encouraging. I could feel myself getting slightly more comfortable in the water, going from maybe "completely bewildered", to "marginally uneasy". It seemed that the 0.9 mile swim would take an hour, maybe more. My focus was to survive the swim, just make it out of the water even if I was literally the last one. I began to have a little empathy with those who run a 7 hour or longer marathon. Is their accomplishment any less than that of the guy who goes 2:10? I dunno. Previously, I would have said yes, of course. I was beginning to have second thoughts about that particular value judgment. Anyway, on to the race itself. The weather was decent at the start, but plenty hot by 10:00 or so. The swim went slowly, but well. I got concerned when they announced at packet pickup that the course had changed, now to be point to point, pretty much all deep water except for the last few hundred yards, but it worked out. Cross Lake was calm, and a balmy 79 degrees. We started in waves - groups of 50 or so, at 4 minute intervals. I was left behind right from the start of our group, but no problem, I knew that was going to be the case. It was interesting when the next wave, all women, began to overtake me 6 or so minutes later. I was almost run over by a sea of pink-capped pursuers. Took me just over 50 minutes to get out of the water. I found all the buoys, canoes and kayaks along the course quite reassuring, poor swimmer that I am. Exiting the water, I felt great - not fatigued at all. That was to come later, as it turned out. At the swim to bike transition, I refused to be hurried, taking off my swimsuit and putting on a jock and bike shorts. I was determined to enjoy my first triathlon. I knew my time and placing would be poor, assuming I finished. I had a sense of calm and serenity as I changed, while the very few competitors around (they were almost all on the bike by then) were scurrying as fast as they could. Then, after I rolled my borrowed bike across the chip-sensing mat, I took several minutes for a much-needed Portalet visit. Later, when I came in from the bike leg, my attitude about transition times would change significantly! Yes, the bike leg. I came out of the water so far back, and transitioned so slowly that I couldn't even see the next rider ahead of me until about mile 6. That was a bit discouraging. I ended up around 1:20 for the 24.8 miles, when you subtract my little visit to the john. The course was hilly, or rather, mountainous, when compared to what we have in south Louisiana. I picked a number of people off in the last half of the bike, which was a lift. I had to ignore the reality that they were pretty much all women or guys that weighed 240 or so. At the bike finish, I calmly wheeled into the transition area, knowing that I might be a little rubbery legged, but still looking forward to maybe a 45 minute 10k, 4 or 5 minutes off my usual. Not quite! It was all I could do not to fall down with those first few steps to the bike rack. My legs were a mess. This time, though, I had a different mindset regarding the transition phase. I parked the bike, shoved 2 fig newtons in my mouth, grabbed a cup of water and took off. The idea that I had previously had about getting out of the bike clothes into a fresh jock and some running shorts - forget it! The need to compete had overtaken me, it seems. The run was hilly and hot. I was not happy that I had to walk in spots, but there was no choice. I made it in 51 minutes and change, ten minutes off my usual. I had no sense of pace. All the miles felt like they must be in the 10 to 12 minute range, that's how awkward my gait was. I guess my running background paid off though, as my suicide shuffle seemed to be not quite as slow as the shuffles of the people around me. I absolutely loved my first triathlon, and plan to do more. I really enjoy a great road race like Cajun Cup and the fact that it is simpler, without the hassle with all the gear for the different phases. But I am intrigued by the challenge of the tri, and the scope for personal improvement with more training. I will say that my first one whipped me pretty good, but I am pleased to have finished, and look forward to a much faster Tin Man next year. Speaking of Tin Man, I would rate it as outstanding. It was my first tri, but it seemed to be just brilliantly organized. All three course were well marked: plenty of buoys for the swim, every mile on the bike and run identified, and all the turns on the run course as well. Many, many cheerful volunteers on all three legs. The highlight of the bike leg was undoubtedly the water bottle at the halfway point. Just as I came out of the u-turn, an angel handed me a squeeze bottle full of COLD water. I had been forcing myself to drink the lukewarm stuff in my own bottle - this was quite an improvement. The police did an excellent job keeping traffic contained on the bike. I had heard that Tin Man had the best tote bag, and I certainly can't dispute that. Singlet, t-shirt, bike gloves, bike shorts, ball cap, squeeze bottle, and socks - all high quality, all emblazoned with the cool Tin Man logo. I'm not big on socks as a rule, but those TM socks are the best. Finally, the post race party was great also. The selection of food was vast, and the quality was great. Just to pick two items, the red beans/sausage and the shrimp etoufee were as good as you will get at any race in south Louisiana, probably better. The whole TM experience is a hell of a deal for $55, in my opinion. On a personal note, I'd like to acknowledge for their support and equipment Phyllis, Bob, Andy and Dr. Bob Stancoff. Couldn't have done it without you.
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