This was perhaps my best race ever. Maybe not a PR in terms of time (though pretty close to matching other races), but the best in terms of my attitude — let me correct that, my mental state — and ability to actually enjoy the whole race. Other than the last 2 miles, of course; otherwise, I’m not doing my job…
This was my second time since 2013 to do the NYC Tri, which is an Olympic distance. A lot’s happened since then — Ironman Mt. Tremblant was last August, but I’m simply not training as hard this year — and, 4 weeks and a day before this race, I was hit by a car while riding my bike. The windshield was destroyed (zoom in, below) by my impact, and I landed on my butt in front of the car.
I was pretty bruised, a little cut up, and broke a bone in my right hand. Had to wear a brace to protect it, but removed the brace in order to work at the computer, ride on my trainer, and swim. That is, I wore the brace up until last Thursday (before this race), when the doctor said I was healing and could fight barehanded. Yes, I was very, very lucky, and I do not take for granted being alive and virtually uninjured. Also, in honor of surviving the accident, I grew a beard. More seriously, my mantra (including for this race) was “Grateful”.
So, my goals for this race are to be solid in each leg of the race, to start comfortable and get faster, to enjoy and appreciate being alive, let alone racing. What a blessing to be here. And ideally (but secondarily) to come in the top 10% for my age group and qualify for the Nationals next year.
As far as the race itself: It’s really hard to compare results of this race even with prior races on the same course, because the Hudson River’s current fluctuates so dramatically with the tide – so the swim leg changes not just from race to race, but also during the race. This time, the current slowed down as the day progressed. Also, the night before the event, the director sent an email that said they were shortening the race from 10K to 8K, based on predictions that the temperature would get up into the 90’s with high humidity. Predictions that frankly kept me awake. That night, they also reported that the Hudson River was 79 degrees, too warm to allow wetsuits, but that was okay — I had a speed suit awaiting with my bike in the transition area (racked Saturday afternoon) just in case.
Glad I listened to my carpool buddy Alan Golds
as we parked my car and I brought the wetsuit anyway, because on race day the water was 76 degrees and therefore wetsuit legal. Also glad to be with Alan because he kept telling me to slow down, we had plenty of time, relax. Which I sort of did, in honor of the new me – slow down, and appreciate. Still, I want more than 30 minutes to set up my stuff, because I bring extra things and have to decide what I’ll actually use….
Walked the mile from transition to swim area, ran back to get my EAAs (Essential Amino Acids) to gobble up just before racing. Met up with Alan again, hung out and moseyed down to the waiting area for our age group, where I met Joe Conklin, a lawyer with whom I’d worked and had last seen at a trademark law convention. Man, it is great to see friendly faces. And I had to admit, here I am starting my 21st triathlon, and still jittery before the swim. But keeping in mind: it’s okay, whatever happens, it’s miraculous that I’m here at all.
We go down the ramp onto the dock, wait all of 20 seconds, go up to the edge and slide in/jump off. (My official time is 20 seconds slower than my Garmin; not sure if I started their clock early by sitting on the ledge…) And the water is soooo comfortable, and I remember my goals for the race: to feel solid on each section, to swim strong instead of with rapid, windmill strokes,
So the swim starts without any panic to go full tilt, I’m breathing on both sides every three strokes and I realize that means I am TOO comfortable; those workouts from Sierra Huber saying to swim at “80% effort” or “90% effort” translates to going hard enough that I need to take a breath every stroke. Breathing to the left gives me a view of the shore, and I’m less comfortable but stronger on that side, and I see all the people walking along the boardwalk of Riverside Park (to watch their respective gladiator) and the signs with numbers telling us how far we’ve gone (“600” yards; dammit, I was hoping I’d be farther along, I’m not looking at the signs anymore) and there’s no one worth drafting off, but there’s the sweet, sweet victory of passing not just a few but a lot of people in different colored swim caps, which means I’m passing folks who started several minutes ahead of me (with an earlier, stronger current) — but also, these are probably folks who don’t swim so well.
Keep staying right, as far out into the current as the boats and paddle boarders will allow (“go left! Go left!”) and zooming down to the barge, where I offer my uninjured left hand to be yanked up and out of the water. .9 miles in 20:26, a blistering 1:13/100 yds. Gotta love the current. Also, 18/205 for my Age Group. Hoo-ha!
And run around 1/3 mile to Transition 1, peeling off the top of the wetsuit, and jogging barefoot feels really good, I’m surprisingly springy, bouncing in, I have survived another swim! And there’s my bike and I don’t see any others in my area that are taken but I assume a bunch of guys swam faster than I did and I’ll have to do my best on the bike. But the goal is to listen to my body, get centered, and build.
On the bike (and BIG shout out and thank you to John McDermott for lending me his Cervelo for this race, because mine was totaled in the accident, and as directed I didn’t adjust a thing except replace his saddle with mine and his bike is a shockingly good fit for me anyway). That steep uphill out of Riverside Park and round the 79th Street boat basin and onto the West Side Highway in all its glorious broken concrete and hopping over the metal joiners running perpendicular across the road, breathing hard but not panting, not my fastest but I haven’t been on a bike outdoors in 4 weeks and I need to save up for the run, conserving energy on the bike is going to be the cautious smart thing to do with a hot and humid run at the end.
Chomp down five capsules of BCAAs at 15 minutes and 50 minutes, I’m going carb free on this race (the thought of gels on the run sickens me), with an extra salt tablet (on top of two bottles of water with NUUN tablets and that oh so fashionable Himalayan Pink Salt) — I am NOT bonking like I did at the end of the Ironman or the middle of the NYC Marathon last year.
Lot of people poking along on their commuter or hybrid bikes (“on your left!”), I get passed a lot, too, including by men in my age group, some of whom are going so fast it’s as if I’m standing still, but even more than thinking “I’m racing MY race”, I am grateful to be alive let alone RACING.
It’s really not too warm, now and then a nice breeze, despite the predictions of deathly heat. Look up to enjoy the GW Bridge, then focus on dodging potholes and slow, squirrelly riders (“Your left. Your LEFT. LEFT!”). And I realize I am That Angry Guy, but I’m not shouting because I want to win, I just don’t want to get hurt again. (At least that’s what I’d like to think.)
Turn around at Moshulu Parkway, British guy (my age group?) passes and warns me that I’m losing the sew-up tire Alan Golds lent me (for McDermott’s wheels; I am so screwed if I have to change a flat, as I’ve never put on a sew-up) from the extra water bottle cage, and sure enough a few minutes later it’s gone… Sorry, Alan, I’ll buy you a new one. Feeling good that the 24+ miles are DONE as we turn around at 68th street or so, slowing down into the sharp turns back into the park, get off and run into Transition 2, and I’m done in 1:14 (20.0 mph) – not my fastest, but a solid result considering I was recently hit by a car and check it out, I am alive.
Drain the water bottle and now the run, it’s another steep climb out of the park to street level, and folks are cheering, and again I’m feeling surprisingly good, I’m doing this like the 5-mile Shamrock Shuffle in Chicago this past April: start comfortable, get faster. So my goal is to do negative splits, trying to stay sub-7:30 min/mile.
And despite my mantra (because I’m not Buddhist, I’m Jewish), I start counting the number of people I pass, subtracting for each guy that passes me. As we run along 72nd Street I’ve passed around 15 people. We enter the Park, it’s not long before I’ve passed 50 people, maybe I’ll get to 100, I left my heart rate monitor at home, figuring that I’ve done enough races that I don’t need historical data and that seeing my heart rate in this heat would scare me at this point of the race. We go up that hill and I hit 100 (now and then passed by younger guys, but Lo! I pass at least 3 guys in my age group; the fact that each one is just another notch in my belt makes it easier to pass them, though I am scared that they see me and will give chase…).
And by mile 3 it is time to ratchet up the effort, and I for one am quite glad it’s only a 5-mile course, and 150 people are passed, maybe I’ll make it to 200 and I am doing sub-7:30s, in this heat, OMG I am so grateful but this really is stressful, grab water and SCRATCH hydration but I can’t stop I want to make that top 10%.
And by the time I get to the finish line I’ve passed 267 other racers. Net.
And I have enough energy to raise my hands for the photo finish because I am not just alive but finishing a triathlon.
Bottom line: 39:55 run (officially 7:39 min/mile, but my Garmin says 7:28s), and 2:21:02 final time. But the best part is that I am 15/205 in my age group, 323/3,376 OA.
I was 15th in this race in 2013, when I was at the younger end of the age group, and three years later, at the older end, I have the same ranking. I’m defying gravity. Old guys rule. And I have the white beard to prove it.
