I was kind of dreading this race, in Harriman State Park next to Bear Mt., because it was my first tri of the season, and rain was predicted. I packed extra plastic bags to cover my transition gear, a rain coat for pre-race, got anxious about riding in the wet with a bunch of yahoos. Sure enough, as I left house to drive all of 35 minutes to get there, the night’s drizzle transformed into a torrential downpour. But by the time I got out of my car, the rain stopped!
That was the start of a beautiful day, and not without its drama. Even registration was cool (number 530! and I’m 53 in USAT years!), and right after that, saw my gym friend Anthony. He found me a spot for my bike in his rack (open racking, for 300 Half Ironman + Oly racers?) and invited me to put my tri bag in his cubby between the bikes; so great to have a friend there on race day. (Note to self: pre-race, don’t just walk and count the racks from swim in, but also from bike in…)
Anthony Ma, racking up:
More good news: the water in Lake Welch wasn’t 55 degrees, as predicted by the race directors, but 61 — totally comfortable in a full-sleeve wetsuit, and no need for the neoprene swim cap. So when we got to warm up in the swim area, it was somewhat relaxing; but I felt rusty, having missed a few workouts in the prior week or two.
Third wave, put myself in the third row (seeing the 4th row folks very deliberately holding back; clearly, I could go faster than the shy guys…) and HONK! we’re off.
And here’s where the going got tough — mentally. I couldn’t get my groove on. I’m working hard, trying to grab the froth of someone to draft, my turnover seems high but not effective; I’m thinking of all those drills that the excellent Coach Mitch gave me during our lessons in March, rotating and keeping high elbow and pulling straight down with that wandering right hand, but I am not gaining, I feel like I’m flailing, inadequate for this task, heart is pumping and I’m tired already and feels like everyone is leaving me behind, “oh no another mediocre swim.” Not until I start passing the folks doing breast stroke (clearly, from a prior wave!) and turn towards shore do I remember that 3/4 stroke (pull hard as my recovery hand reaches my head), I get in the loping rhythm that finally feels powerful, I pass a few people and hit the beach and run up the beach and it’s 22:19 for the swim! (Keep in mind, this is supposed to be a .6 mile swim — half the HIM course — so that’s only 1:48/100 yds. — my tt + 0:11; not terrific).
Transition is fine, the sun is out, I slap my Garmin’s lap button too many times and realize the bike is going to be timed as if it’s T2. (Gotta practice everything!) And it’s a beautiful ride through a forested park, a lot of inexperienced people in this very local race, so a little scary re their ability to handle their bikes, but I pass too many to count ’em. “On your left! Your left!” (Is that obnoxious or appropriate? I guess it’s how you say it.) And the first loop of this 28-mile course, some long rolling hills but nothing like the steep monsters near my town, and it’s hard work but goes by without incident.
But I get passed, as well, most importantly by at least two guys who are in my age group (squinting at the faded numbers written on their calves) and there goes a third guy with a big handlebar mustache (turns out, he’s older!), and I’m almost resigned to the ignominy of not reaching the podium when this guy in a light blue shirt and “50” too clearly written on his leg screams by and goes one city block, then two city blocks away, then apparently gone… Oh, well. 28 miles in 1:34 – 17.9 mph average. I’ll take it.
T2 is fine (a little scrambling for my rack – ah, there’s my bag plus Anthony’s!) and off on the run. The race has thinned out by now – either everyone’s ahead or behind me, and I think I net around 4 people total who I pass/get passed – but my form feels good, no injurious pain, just the pushing the envelope tiredness, and I settle into a 7:30ish pace, and wishing this 10k run was only 5k.
And suddenly, at the 3 mile turnaround, there’s the guy in the light blue shirt! And I pass him! And I am certain that he must be furiously chasing me, I picture him on my tail just a few feet behind me, and I dare not turn around, and the fear of his catching up keeps me at my steady pace, pawing the ground with each step and pushing off a little more maybe a little faster and damn! The finish line sooner than I expected and I TAKE THIRD PLACE.
The finish chute: 
Unbelievable.
Bottom line: 45:40 run (7:33 avg -seems to be the same as my last two tris), 2:44:36 final time, 3/12 AG, 33/210 OA. Pretty darn gratifying. This could be the start of a good season.