Spoiler alert: this one was a good one.
Though I signed up in the early spring, I didn’t decide to do this race until 2 days before, because I had tendinitis in my rotator cuff and biceps (no doubt from improper swimming form) and hadn’t swum in 5 weeks, since the day after Poconos 70.3. (Ironically the swim in that tri had never felt better.) I actually rode the course the week before with my nemesis/racing buddy Scott Schiffer, who had come down from Poughkeepsie, because I didn’t know if I would actually see him on race day. 
“By the dawn’s early light…” with Scott Schiffer
But I had swum 500 yds. on Friday morning, when it felt okay, and another ten minutes off the beach at Rye Playland on Saturday morning (when Alan Golds and I went there for packet pickup), and it felt GREAT — the cold water felt like I was immersed in ice packs! Coach Debi told me to “RACE!” (last tri of the season; “so, worst case, you don’t swim for a couple months”), and my saintly but human wife Rachel wanted me to stop moping.
I also wanted to go because there’d be lots of friends there: Drew Ahkao and NIcholas Moore (damn, what happened to those photos?!), Scott , the Hastings team (almost all of us after/still recovering from various injuries).
with Alan Golds, Tom Andrews, John McDermott and Kevin Carlsten – where did Zander Reyna GO?!
A real community, since this Olympic was so close to home.
With Jason, Ziv Abramowicz, and Vadim Shteynberg
Waited to the last minute to warm up, as we were the last of 9 waves. Doesn’t matter how many races I’ve done, I’m always scared as we enter the shoot, cross the mat, and await the horn…. HOOOOOOT.
It was low tide, so we ran some 25, 50 yards before getting to water deep enough for swimming. I’m swimming alongside Alan for a while, then jostled by crowds as they pass me, or I pass them. (People in wetsuits are so BIG.) I was committed to minimizing injury by being relaxed, and build into whatever I could handle, and relaxation HAS to be good for swimming; I had to look left at the buoys in this counterclockwise course, which was better for my injury and my stronger side; and I had tapered a LOT in the prior week, including two nights of 9+ hours sleep in the last few days. So I wasn’t surprised that, despite the shoulder injury, it turned out to be my best swim ever: 26:08. YES.
T1 went well (which is to say I found my bike where I left it), in and out in 2:50, but Scott runs past me as I’m taking off my wetsuit.
I have a few goals for the bike: to beat Scott (who had taken first place to my third place at the Stissing Sprint earlier this year); to ride at 20 to 21 mph (instead of the 19+ that I had done in recent races); and to beat my best time on this course of 1:12. Took a while to catch up with Scott; he passed me; I passed him again at some hill, but the fear of him breathing down my neck kept me going. Panting despite Debi’s orders. I am tapping whatever power I have, pushing pushing. Almost no one passed me, and no one in my age group. So, towards the end, when I saw I had already used up my 1:12, I thought, I won’t beat my best time, but maybe I’d make the podium anyway. That would be a great consolation prize. Bike: 1:15:25, or 20.84 mph.
T2 does not go perfectly — I go to the wrong row to rack my bike, but I find my spot without losing too much time. 2:07; lost maybe 20 seconds. Who cares, right?
For the run, I finally had learned to wear sunglasses on that first shadeless out and back, and as I’m returning, there’s Scott; and I pass another guy in our AG. Mile 1 is 7:21. OK, I have some lead, but there’s very little cushion there. By Mile 3, I realize all I can do is maintain whatever pace I am doing, and if someone else has the juice to go faster, God be with them. By Mile 4, I am miserable, panting and slogging, but remembered from my last race, the Poconos 70.3, that everyone else is probably hurting too and not to assume I’m in last place. Sure enough, by mile 5, I pass Phil Gormley, who OWNS this race; he always comes in the top 5 or better; I make the turnaround, and here comes Scott running towards me, and he seems like he’s closer since I last saw him, and I SOOOOO want to walk, I am sooooo tired, but I have a shot at the podium if I can stay ahead of Phil and Scott, and I remember that the turn off the road isn’t at the first view of the park but here comes the second, and that last grassy 0.2 miles is as sweet as ever, and BAM I cross the finish line, walking in circles to let my heart rate drop to something reasonable. Run time: 48:28, or 7:50 min/mile. Not my best, but I’ll take it.
As I wait on line for a free massage, to be followed by free beer (such a civilized race), Scott gets our results; he’s taken 3rd Place and I have finished in 2nd Place for our age group! YES, YES, YES.
“One of these is mine!”
2:34:58, 2/36 AG, 83/618 OA.
First place, Bruce Kaliner (whom I’d met years ago at this race, and is gracious enough to tell me “you kicked my butt at the NYC Tri this year”), beats me by 19 seconds… I was faster on the bike and the run, but he was faster on the swim and T2! But I am delighted, having chased this age group podium since I started racing 6 years ago — coming in 19th, then 13th, then 8th, then 8th again – then a year off, to train for the NYC Marathon. Finally! Mine, mine, mine.
I haven’t gotten faster — in fact, I was 6 minutes slower than my best race in 2013, and 2 minutes slower than last year – but I’ve gotten older. I haven’t given up on more PRs, but I am happy to do well among my peers.
And my shoulder still hurts, but somehow I feel a lot better.
Seen on a spectator’s shirt: “That’s a terrible idea. What time does it start?”