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Just like a newbie, just older

Mike Tyson was a tough fighter back in the day, but maybe not as tough as a ten-year-old boa strap on Specialized S-Works bike shoes.

Apple, Bumble, Humble, Pie

UBC duathlon Race Report ~ by Coach Kevin ~ March 9, 2019

Lead In

Injured and fat! Had a pretty nice race at the Ft. Langley 10 K but a trip to Saskatchewan in February is never a recipe for success of any kind except gaining a few pounds, and on that front I totally nailed it. The day I returned from the frigid plains of Wadena, I ran in Stanley Park and managed to tweak my back, hips, and knee. The next week and a half were spent attempting to run for more than 10 minutes while still eating and drinking as if I were REALLY training for an Ironman. Note to readers, cycling and swimming do not compensate for running in the battle of the bulge. Weighed in at 162.

Equipment

Since the duathlon had sold out for the first time in the race’s history, I was on the outside looking in, as of the Monday of race week. Fortunately, I was able to snag a spot from the wait list so my streak of 14 years (-1) at the UBC duathlon could continue.

My laissez-faire attitude toward my gear selection was as a result of my injury and sub par training. I chose the bike that I didn’t not have to fuss too much over, not optimal for a great performance. I dusted off the Cervelo P-3SL pumped up the tyres, changed a tube, and that was that. Used my 18 year old Rolf Vector Pro Rims with Continental Sport tyres.

A more considered decision was saved for my running shoes. Since I was about to run injured, I did not want to bugger myself up for the rest of the spring. Although the word Hoka popped into my mind, I looked in my closet and found a much more motivational pair of shoes – my newly purchased Altra Escalantes!

And since the forecast was calling for clear and cool temperatures, the clothing was a no-brainier ¾ length mid-weight tights, a poly pro under shirt with another tight short sleeve top and winter weight arm warmers. Oh yeah, gloves too!

One of the many things that I really enjoy about doing shorter races is the simplicity. NO need to pack a took kit. No need for complicated fueling solutions, just a 16 ounce bottle with some fruit juice, 4 tablespoons of fruit sugar, and teaspoon of F2C Electrodurance. And for the pre-race “shot” a swig of Hammer gel with a caffeine pill.

Night Before

After 2.5 beer, and 1.5 plates of nachos with some of my wife’s co-workers, it was off to Burger King to enjoy the 2 Whoppers for $7.00 deal. One bad decision after another. The only wise thing I did that night was pass on the second half of that family size Old Dutch Mesquite chips in the cupboard. Off to sleep at 10.

AM Of

Woke up late at 5:10. Threw the gear in the car and began to think about breakfast. ½ cup of coffee, some yogurt, and an antacid pill for dessert. The drive to UBC was pleasant without the usual weekday traffic, so I arrived in plenty of time to check the bike, rack it, and find a parking spot. As I ran to the race start line from the parking lot my legs said “We’ll get you to the finish line, but don’t try anything stupid.”

After some small talk at the start line with the usual suspects (sans Winston Guo) and a great turnout by other ATC clubbers, it was off to the bush to water some plants. Note to readers, take your “grippy gloves” off for this task as it can cause some pretty sobering chaffing.

Run 1

With more participants than I ever remember at the start line of the event and my expectations at an appropriate level, the horn went off and I began the task at hand staying with Mikey Ross. It was a bit unusual to be with so many people and with so many people ahead. After about a k, I think Mikey & I fell into our groove, dutifully making our way along the route. Although I was definitely feeling the effects of sub par training and my sub par body, I managed to maintain an ok pace and acceptable form.

T1

Why the hell was I wearing these gloves? Oh yeah, to slow me down in transition! After fumbling with my helmet strap, I decided to take the gloves off, buckle the helmet, and then put them back on. Which was already a supreme waste of time, but I couldn’t get the gloves on. Whatever. I grabbed the bike, bumbled to the mount line and got things rolling.

Bike

Dammit I hate this bike seat. Geez these bars are freaking narrow. These were my positive affirmations as I rode out of transition onto the first turn. Weird thing is, that as uncomfortable as I was feeling, I was passing a lot of people – a nice confidence booster. Shifting into the big ring, I let the bike do the work for the first downhill and into the turn-around, still passing people but undeservedly so. I overshot the turn that merged us onto Marine Drive but managed to get into the correct lane for the race.

With a slight tailwind and a long downhill it was no time before we arrived at the turn-around, and I say we, because there was two of us. My Tri*Joy partner Mikey Ross had caught up to me and on the climb back he showed the results of a winter locked in a room with Mr Zwift. He put a gap of about 20 metres on me, then 30, then 40, then I stopped counting and just set out to keep him in sight so I could maybe bridge up to him on the run. Then he rode out of sight. Open roads ahead with nothing but the 10 o’clock sun in the sky and the wind driving into my eyes, causing my eyes to water.

At the turn off of Marine Drive and onto University Boulevard, I saw some sort of sign but it was pretty hard to read. This must be the turn. I got out of the saddle and smashed up the hill, with my Cervelo springing to life like a cobra out of a snake charmers basket.

Then the self-doubt set in. Who were these people I was passing up the hill? They sure didn’t like like the faster looking creatures that were ahead of me on the run. There sure were a lot of them though. Are they just doing one lap or two? And remember 2014? The year you rode all that extra way and Premack beat you? Don’t be a bonehead! So at the crest of the hill, I said screw this crazy pursuit and I descended the hill and went back onto Marine Drive and toward the “real” turn-around.

But it wasn’t.

Judging from the company I was now in the midst of, I reckoned I must be in about fifth place overall. Too good to be true, and at the turn-around, when I didn’t see Mikey, I knew that I had goofed up. Playing it as safely as I could and trying to minimize any further time-wasting, I rode on the wrong side of the road toward the oncoming cyclists who were descending the hill. Then, when I judged it to be safe, I cut across the lane and re-joined the correct flow of the race. I ashamedly climbed the hill again and followed the cyclists who did seem to know what they were doing, my confidence shattered and hopes of bridging up to Mikey gone.

As we descended back into the transition area I saw Mikey coming the other way and realized that I was indeed back on the race course and doing it properly. Emboldened by this feedback, I ditched my riding cohort and tore up the road in search of some dignity that had been lost about 10 minutes ago. Even with my screw up I knew that I wasn’t in last place. It was time to come up with a new goal. It was a very doable one. Just finish the race without injuring yourself.

Mission accomplished! After a non-eventful second lap, I rolled into transition. Rather than risk a fancy dismount, I just focused on being smooth and slow so I could get attain my goal of not injuring myself.

T2

But it was not to be. After unbuckling my helmet, I sat down to put on my running shoes. My left shoe came off without a problem, but my left shoe was not so compliant. I guess nine years of abuse was just about the last straw for the boa strap mechanism, and it was right there, in transition, that it decided to fight back.

After being unable to persuade the boa dial to release, I got into a tug-of-war with my cycling shoe, tugging at it to release from my foot while it clung on like a vampire on a nubile neck. While this was going on, I could sense that all those people who I passed on the bike in the duathlon were rolling into transition and taking off on the run. Finally the shoe relented and I was able to slide on my other running shoe and get onto the run course.

Run 2

As I started the incline out of transition, I paid for the the price of my battle with my cycling shoe. All of that frantic tugging upset my left calf and I had to contend with needles of pain running up and down the length of it. I slowed down, relaxed, and waited for the cramping to really hit hard. Fortunately it never did. All that happened was that I had to run more slowly. This of course meant that more people passed me but as long as I prevented myself from getting injured I would be satisfied.

And that’s just how the rest of the run went. A brisk but cautious 23 minutes of running trying to find some joy in being a participant in a race. It was quite a different experience, being so clear headed and relaxed on the same course that previously only offered pain and discomfort from being locked in a death match with some other competitor. After a few faint-hearted attempts at either passing someone or staying with someone who was passing me, I got into a happy place of contentment, and even allowed myself to stop and congratulate Mikey as he was nearing the finish line. Three minutes later, I was at the finish line, with my slowest ever UBC duathlon now in the record books.

Stats

1:28, 18/71 overall, splits were run 1: 22 min, T1: 2 min, bike: 40 min, T2: 2 minutes (felt like 30!), run 2: 23 min.

Lessons Learned

Even though I was racing injured and unable to compete at my usual level, I enjoyed being out there and taking on the challenges of the day.

Yes, if you go to Saskatchewan for a week and you injure yourself and not run for two weeks you are going to get fat and slower, I accept that!

Usually by UBC, I have one of my bikes totally dialed in for this race. I blame the weather!

Did ok on the nutrition, stomach was good, although it was never really tested as my heart rate never got about 162 all day. Energy levels were stable.

Don’t be a cheap bastard. Get some new bike shoes, or be prepared to waste more time in transition and maybe really do a number on your calf on a race that you paid 800 dollars to enter.

All that being said, not a lot of REAL learning in this race, as far as getting faster, as this was an abnormal year.

What does it mean when they say “lifetime guarantee?”