3:16:45

3:16:45

Okay, it was the hardest, longest and most physically challenging “effort” I’ve ever put myself through, with the exception of Army basic training in the summer of 1968, but now that it’s over, and my back isn’t killing me as much, I have to say I would do it again, and again and again, until only three guys are left standing in my age group at the start of the swim down the mighty Hudson. I predict that might be the 75+ year age group, but I’d like to stick it out, and try for that in about 14 more Nautica Olympic Triathlons. In July 2006, after finishing terribly in a sprint triathlon, I never would have imagined that a year later I would have completed such a longer race, even sprinting to the end in Central Park. But the challenge from my niece was just enough to say, why not, I’m only 60, a Clydesdale, in triathlon weight terms, and riding on a speedy 1970 Miriushi 12 speed, no wet suit, no running belt. What a year of training can do!

Here are the grueling details. First of all, I completely, totally, idiotically did not comprehend how long it would take to walk from the transition area (where we changed from one event to another) to not only the end of the swim, but to the beginning, nearly a mile upstream. As a result, I found myself running in bare feet through a crowd of sauntering Sunday athletes who were all going to swim long after my beginning time of 6:00 a.m. As a result, not only did I forget to get my timing chip, as that was the last thing I thought I needed, but I made it into the water, and into my wetsuit in RECORD TIME, hanging on to the start rope for dear life, with about 18 seconds before the starter gun. I dipped into the water just to prepare for the longest swim of my life, only to bob up and see that everyone had started.

If you’re wondering did the current help me swim in record time, I would admit yes, and yes, I did swim it faster than in a current less lake in Wisconsin, but I wouldn’t exactly call it swimming, more like a desperate attempt to sidestroke my way down past the hundreds of bobbing heads that were ahead of me, and soon to be behind me. At one point, I heard my niece yell tons of encouragement, but after the first 25 yards, I was pretty much a drifter. The lesson of the swim is that I do need lessons for open water swimming, I do need to learn bilateral breathing technique, and I do need to stop thinking that pool swimming is anything, anything, anything related to open water swimming. But the good news is that I didn’t drift out into the Atlantic, I didn’t swim from buoy to buoy, and I wasn’t pulled out of the water by the NYPD. So was it my fastest swim ever. Absolutely!

I must say it was a miraculous feeling to reach the end of the swim, and get a hand out of the water from one of the race volunteers. Then a long wet walk/jog to the transition area, slip out of the wetsuit as fast as possible, and into bike shoes and a helmet in record time. The greatest challenge of the 40K bike ride was not the long. very long hill climbs up the West End Highway in Manhattan and the Bronx, no, the tough part came right in the transition area with a sharp right turn and an immediate steep climb. I had practiced this monster twice the day before, so I was ready to take the hill, and by some miracle, I made it up with falling, or causing a major Tour de France crash up. The ride was good, long, even longer, with more hills than I had trained for, and oddly, I passed a few riders, and I even offered encouragement of “How ya doin mate?” which made me wonder where did my Irish brogue come from in the middle of terribly hard bike climbs, but regardless of my brain turning Irish on the West End Highway, I returned to the transition area in one piece, with no flats, no crashes, no blood. Back to transition area, and into running (jogging) shoes and on to Central Park. (At this point, I assumed all my times were being accurately reported when I crossed several rubber timing mats, even though my chip was still hanging on the chip board way back at the start of the swim.)

My training for Central Park took place primarily up and down Lake Shore Drive and
Lake Park on the eastside of Milwaukee, so I had a few hills to train on, and in the last few weeks, I kept hitting these hills more regularly, and perhaps some of it paid off, for while I didn’t walk the 10K portion, I didn’t exactly jog the portion either, but to be honest, without a chip, it’s hard to say what I was doing with my tired legs, but toward the end, say the last mile, I could feel the excitement of possibly finishing and started to pick up whatever pace I had, and finished with a stride longer than I had in training, gasping for air, looking a little startled that I was actually going to finish. When I saw the clock above the finish line, I began to grasp the significance of the whole event, and was inspired to even sprint hard to the very end, in a sea of tears, and then to my surprise, a cold wet towel, a beautiful medal, and then someone asked “where’s your chip?”

All in all, the most exciting, challenging race I’ve ever trained for, and yes, I’ll try it again. Next year, I’ll try to remember to pick up the chip before hitting the water.

For pictures, go to
www.nyctri.com
then search for the pictures link,
then type in Clinton under name,
or race number 191,
and see a few seconds of the race.

Olympic Dreams

Olympic Dreams

Ha Ha! Not the Olympics, not the Olympics every 4 years, no. But yes, Olympic “distance.” That’s what I’ve been working on as I try to put a few finishing touches on training for an Olympic distance triathlon in mid July in New York City. Can you imagine swimming in the Hudson off Manhattan for 0.9 tenths of a mile? Or cycling 24 miles up Manhattan through the Bronx or jogging through Central Park for a 10K? Okay, now let’s put all that together, in sequence, back to back, right after the other. Oi Vay!
Nothing I’ve ever done tells me I could actually do this, until last summer when I nearly called it quits in a sprint distance triathlon and my first outdoor lake swim. I kept holding on the buoys, dogpaddling, drinking the Lake, but somehow, miraculously, I made it to the end, and felt the good earth beneath my feet again.

That day last summer was incredibly hot, in the 90’s, with a high heat index, and a monster hill to just start the 5K. After it was all over, and sitting on a bench recovering my lungs, and legs, I realized how crazy I had been in thinking that indoor and outdoor triathlons must be similar, somehow. But they are at best only distant cousins! That afternoon I called my niece in NYC to see how she did with her Olympic distance race. Somewhere in that conversation, knowing I had come in dead last in my age group, I asked Deborah, how much further an Olympic was compared to a Sprint distance. And within a few weeks, I started getting ready for the biggest physical feat of my life. Now, I am only a few days out from the official New York City Nautica Triathlon.

Okay so I upgraded into a wet suit, a newer bike, and a cool outfit, but I’ve also lost about 20 pounds, gained a lot of confidence by swimming way way way further away from a beach than I ever have, and have started to even “take” a few hills on my new red racer. I’ve also fallen from the bike (clip shoes are a real trick to get out of before you fall over on concrete!), witnessed some bad bad cycling accidents, found thighs and calves I never thought I had, and have actually cranked it up into the highest road gear…not exactly anthing Lance might even notice, but a lot faster than my old 1970’s Mariushi 12 speed. I’ve also learned there’s no “pushoff” at the end of the lane in a lake, but learning also how to spot a buoy so far away, that it’s only a blip on my visual screen…but slowly, ever so slowly, I make the turn, and look for another one.

So, it’s off to New York City in a few weeks. My mantra? Sure, you guessed it,
“I am an Olympian!” That should get me through the long jog at the end of this crazy race. In case you’d like to see what the race is, and the distances, etc., here’s the website
http://www.nyctri.com