Lame Race Report

I learned a lesson this week about vacationing and racing. We went up to Grand Rapids on Wednesday the 4th to stay in a cabin for a long weekend and to race the Timberman Triathlon. After about three days of total relaxation and eating like crap I lost all motivation to race. I was staying off of my Achilles (which I injured in an earlier race), but did manage to get the weeks swim and bike workouts in. I showed up at the race and felt like bagging it the entire time. To top off the lack of enthusiasm I was having some serious GI issues. Here’s how the race went:

Swim: First 500 meters I felt great. The final 900 meters or so I really struggled. I realized the day would be about survival. I saw G and Louie standing by the swim exit and wanted to just chill with them and watch other people race.

T1: Felt like throwing in the towel, but thought well lets just get it in as a workout.

Bike: Man I had no energy. Every time I tried to push it there was nothing in the engine. The course was challenging, but even if it was flat I think I would have struggled.

T2: Surprise, I felt like throwing in the towel. I REALLY took my time and composed myself. Most peoples T2 times were around 1 minute, mine was over 2. I looked through my race bag and got some fuel, chatted with G for a bit, took a couple salt tabs and reluctantly headed out for the run.

Run: The achilles felt pretty good, I however started to really break down at the halfway point. I was so exhausted I had to walk for a few minutes. I struggled the rest of the way, cramping in my hamstring and suffering from lots of side stitches.

This was the worst I have ever felt in a race. At no point of it was I enjoying it (well except for maybe that long downhill on the bike where I was in my 53x11 and couldn’t keep up with it). I came in at 2:27:03 or something like that. The only victory I felt was that I didn’t record a DNF. I realized that my racing needs to be at the beginning of a vacation rather than at the end. We went back to the cabin and I iced my achilles with margaritas, on the rocks with salt.