Adventure Triathlon

I competed in the Off-Road Sprint Triathlon at Lopez Lake this morning. It was part of Scott Tinley's Adventures, which put on all kinds of triathlons (on- and off-road, sprint and long course, and even a kids triathlon) and some biking events this weekend.

Swim
The race started with a super short .25 mile swim. Normally I'd be excited to compete in such a short swim leg, but the cold I've had the past few days really slowed me down. Just 50 yards into the swim I was already struggling to wheeze in enough oxygen. After about 100 yards of freestyle swimming I had to switch to a breaststroke to keep my head above the water more so I could get enough air into my temporarily-dysfunctional lungs. I switched between the two strokes for the rest of the swim, trying to swim as straight as I could towards the finish chute. A guy next to me was doing a backstroke and had his eyes trained on me for the last 200 yards. Apparently

T1
I got out of the water and tried not to slip as I ran up the boat ramp towards the transition area. I took off my wetsuit as I went and revealed my colors—my cool blue UC Davis skinsuit, complete with a dangerous-looking mustang. Oh yeah. Now, there were three similarities between this triathlon and the last one I did at Lopez Lake: 1) I was sick 2) I felt pretty solid on the run (more on that later) and 3) They were blasting one of my favorite rocking pump-up jams as I transitioned at T1. Today was My Sharona (a controversial pick, I know—this song is hit-or-miss with many of my friends, mainly miss, but it gets me ready to ride). I took off running for the bike out area.

Bike
If there was one thing about this triathlon that had me stoked, it was this leg. Mountain bikes! Immediately after exiting the transition area we were directed to a single-track dirt trail. Getting stuck at the back of a long-line of ascending bikers wasn't so cool, but the frequent downhill jaunts were. After a few miles of single-track riding we were dumped out onto a street that led to a flat fire-road, which gave me plenty of space to pass some of the riders I'd been stuck behind.

There were a couple sandy patches as we looped back to the transition area. At one point I totally slid sideways in front of a crowd of about 30 spectators. I proceeded to throw my bike over my shoulder and run up a sandy little rise. I hopped back on the saddle and rolled past the transition area for my second lap. By now the field was more spread out and there was scant company as I caroused up and down the dirt trails.

Despite the fact I was repping UCD in Cal Poly territory, I got a lot of cheers from spectators as I rolled past. Some of the best cheers came from the young gentlemen of Grizzly Academy who were stationed at the bottom of the last descent from the single-track trail. They were really getting into the event, yelling surprisingly complicated encouragement and offering water bottles to passing riders.

T2
Unclipped my helmet, pulled off my gloves, and didn't even bother to pin my race bib on until I'd left the transition area.

Run
I've said it before: running in triathlon is nothing like running in cross country. In my high school running days the 5k was the big event. We were expected to run like hell and we were motivated by a desire to beat familiar rivals of similar speed from other schools. Not so in triathlon. After a .25 mile swim and 12 miles of hilly biking, the field was spread out and our legs were sore. My congested lungs were still trying to figure out what was going on. But my fierce desire not to let middle-aged men and 11-year-old boys best me in a footrace kept me going.

The first 2 miles were relatively flat, but there was something sadistic about mile 3. We passed the turnoff that led (with minimal elevation change) back to the finish and instead headed up a bitchingly large hill. It was a brutal climb. But the athlete in front of me was walking. My years of cross country conditioning told me that walking was not an option in competition. Walkers should be passed mercilessly and put to shame.

I steadily gained on the guy but failed to catch him before the road leveled off and we descended back to the finish. At the top of the hill an elderly spectator said, "Don't worry, you'll get him on the next hill." Oh yes I will, I thought. But the course was done going uphill, and as we did a quick descent to the finish I was beginning to lose hope. Not that I care about beating other racers, it's fun to have a friendly sprint to the finish in running races. So with the finish line in sight and a couple hundred meters to go I let loose, heading through the finish line at full steam. I hi-fived my defeated nemesis and received an awesome medal for finishing. A good finish indeed to a great race on a beautiful Central Coast morning.