Urban Epic

The Boston Urban Epic. 2nd Annual. I'm not sure what I was doing last year on August 8th, but I sure as hell had no idea that there was an inaugural triathlon going on in, what is essentially, my backyard. If backyards can be 3 miles away.

What better place to run, bike and swim than in Southie. The same Southie made famous in movies like Good Will Hunting, Boondock Saints, The Departed, and plenty of others (well, maybe...I can't think of any others). This would be the first triathlon where I wouldn't wake up unnecessarily early just to hop in a car and drive over to the race course. I get to sleep in 'til 6am this time. A nice little bike ride over, with my transition bag on my back, and I'd be ready to go.

I woke up before my alarm, unsurprisingly, and felt pretty awake. I didn't have trouble falling asleep the night before. I wasn't completely riddled with nerves, so I was able to fall asleep easily. I got up, checked my checklist, ate some breakfast, and got ready to go. Everything seemed to be in order, so I headed out, just about on time.

I took a nice stroll through Southie to get to transition area. Pretty pleasant at 6:30am. Nice and easy was the pace. I showed up to a less-than-full registration and transition area, and found my way around the area. I quickly ran into Colin who had just gotten his packet, and we both chatted about how great it was to finally be here. After all, our first swim practice together was only months prior, at the same beach where we'd be soon swimming the first leg of the race. We got ourselves together, got bodymarked, and headed into transition. We had plenty of time and were able to calmly get our things in order. We chatted a bit with some of the guys next to us, though not deep, involved conversation, and let it all sink in. Colin wanted to go for a quick ride to get a nice warm up. I passed, having already ridden a few miles, and being nicely warm already.

I adjusted all of my gear, and got everything in the right order, and decided to start drinking some of my caffeine/water mix. I had been off of caffeine for 6 days now, and was hoping it'd give me a nice little boost for the race. I also wanted to find some more water, just to make sure I was well hydrated before the race (especially with the caffeine dehydrating me). One problem: There was no water near the transition area. There was a water station which was for the run portion, and they were beginning to pour water, but the cups were the size of shot glasses (quite literally, the size of shot glasses. Something you'd use to make jello shots). I would've had to down quite a few of them to get enough water. I had heard that there was water at the race start, so I figured I could load up there.

Colin got back from his ride, and we chatted a little bit, and started to get ready to go over to the swim start. I began to put my wetsuit on, but Colin pointed out that the race start was still more than 30 minutes away, and that we'd be pretty sweaty walking over with the wetsuits on and just waiting. Good call. I took it off. The good news is that the shitty stitching job that I did on a rip in my wetsuit held up pretty well. It's right around the right ankle, and I managed to to rip it wide open again while putting on/taking off the suit.

I took a couple puffs on my inhaler, and we headed out to the swim start. We took notice of the swim exit, and walked calmly over to the swim area. As soon as we got there, I headed to the water fountain to get some water. I felt a little better, knowing that I was getting some extra water in. We both threw on our wetsuits to get a nice pre-race swim in. That's probably the best thing that we could've done. Jumping into that water cooled us off nicely, and was really very relaxing. We got to burn off some energy as well, so it was definitely a good move. We took some practice strokes, and one thing I noticed right away was that the turn buoy out in the distance was very hard to sight through goggles. It was a little hazy, and the sun was right above the buoy, making it very hard to see. Good to know. It just meant that I'd have to put a little more focus on sighting for the first part of the swim. I took some more strokes back towards land, and bumped into a fellow triathlete. She laughed with her friends, noting that I need to work on my "spotting" as she called it.

Having finished our warm-up (or was it a cool off?), we got out of the water. I went to the bathroom quickly. Or as quickly as you can go to the bathroom when you're covered in tight-fitting rubber. I guess that's one of the downfalls to the wetsuit. You can't just pee in the ocean, because there's nowhere for the urine to go. It stays between you and your wetsuit. Not that I would ever pee in the ocean anyway, but just pointing that out for people who might be incline to pee in large bodies of water.

They gathered us together for the pre-race meeting. The guys at Tri-Maine seem like really cool people. They had the right attitude, and seemed to know how to put a race together. Will walked us through the course, just to give everyone a mental refresher of the things they'd be doing during the race. I think this is much more important than it seems. I like to visualize the race, so when I encounter each portion, it looks somewhat familiar. But to have it explained by a person who knows every little detail of the course locks it all into place. Plus, I'm sure its very helpful for people that maybe haven't envisioned the race course just yet.

Shortly after the meeting, they called the elites and our wave (pink caps again!) into the corral. They bunched us in tightly so they'd be able to fit another wave into the corral, making things go a little more smoothly once the starting gun (airhorn) was fired.

They had us pause for the playing of the National Anthem. Only problem. I didn't see a flag anywhere. And I don't think anyone else did either. Everyone still managed to orient themselves in the same direction. Given, it was in the direction of the speakers, but still, I found it a little funny that we were all just staring in a single direction, at nothing, yet imagining a flag waving in the wind.

After the anthem, they squeezed us in even tighter with the elites. They really wanted to corral as many waves as possible. We asked the starting line volunteer how shortly after the elites we would be going off. He wasn't sure, but the concensus was 3 minutes. That number had been thrown around, and a few of us confirmed it from reading the website, or having overheard it from someone else. But then the official word came in: We'd be leaving 1 minute after the elites. As if we might be able to catch them. ha.

The elites went off, and we shimmied up to the start line. Colin and I managed to get a front row view of the coming race course. They counted us down and we were off. I sprinted towards the water, took a few high steps over the ankle deep stuff, and dove right in. Boy was it crowded, even though it was a fairly small wave. It a was a fever pace, and it was all about getting a good 100 meters in to separate from the pack and then settle into a zone.

Only problem is, this is something I've rarely practiced. Funny, it's something I should've expected, but it didn't even cross my mind to train for a swim start. It's not an unfamiliar thing; we employed the same strategy in rowing during sprint races. High cadence for the first 250 meters to really get the boat moving, and then settle into a race pace. But it's something I totally glossed over. And many times. This was my 4th triathlon, you think I would've learned by now. Oh well. Now I know.

I felt good for those first 100-or-so meters. Breathing bi-laterally, every third stroke. Staying long in the water. But my inexperience quickly showed itself. Before I knew it, my form was struggling, and I was breathing every other stroke, unable to find that every-third-stroke rhythm. And something I realized after the race, was that breathing every other stroke is more damaging than you realize. For me, I'm still not used to breathing every third stroke, at least not for a long time at an intense pace. It's too much time in between breaths. So this forces me to drop to breathing every other stroke, which is not enough time in between breaths. Doing this forces your breathing into an unnaturally quick rhythm. You're not inhaling and exhaling at full capacity. This can really put a strain on your chest/diaphragm. And so by the time you exit the water, you're not only tight, but you're breathing is much more labored than it should be. It feels like its borderline hyperventilation. Very very uncomfortable sensation. I guess that's why they invented the run from swim exit to transition. You can really use this time to regain your focus, and hopefully relax those damn breathing muscles.

But anyway, back to the swim...

Sighting in general went pretty well. I was able to see the guide buoy and stay pretty tight to it. My sighting isn't perfect yet, but I'm generally pleased with my abilities. I sighted the turn buoy, and realized that the glaring sun wasn't making it tough to see. That's good news. I swam to it, made a tight turn and headed to the other turn buoy. It was going to be a short distance, and then we'd get to head back home.

After the turn, it was really tough to see the swim exit. I tried a few times, but couldn't find the arch. For some reason I though there was an inflatable arch for the swim exit, but I couldn't find it. After a couple failures of sighting, I focused on the guide buoy, which, as they explained, did not need to be passed on the left, but was purely for guidance. I had noticed earlier, while on land, that the guide buoy wasn't in line with the quickest route to the swim exit, so I begrudgingly used it as guidance. It's all I had. I feel like I zig-zagged a bit, on my way to the buoy, along with another competitor. We must've crossed paths 3 times. I think we were both equally bad at sighting.

Finally, after passing the guide buoy, I could see the exit. I was feeling a little more relaxed, and managed to focus on my form to finish strong. Kind of funny, considering about a minute earlier, I was cursing the fact that I would have to bike and then run after this dreaded swim was over. It's not the first time I've said to myself, "I can't believe I have to bike and run after I get out of the water. I don't wanna do that." The good news is that it passes quickly. While it's a little disturbing, it's something that I'm able to beat, mentally.

The swim exit was fast approaching. I followed a small piece of advice that I had read somewhere about determining when to get up to run out of the water. Or, I guess I adapted it. The advice was something about when you see the ground is getting close, take a stroked and straighten your arm down. If you feel sand, get up. I saw the ground, felt the sand, and decided to take 2 more strokes to be sure, and then got up. It may have been a little premature, I'm not sure. I felt myself picking my legs up very high to get moving out of the water. Oh well. Soon enough I was up and out and running to transition. I wasn't moving as fast as I had wanted, due to my short breathing fits that I explained above. I still managed to pull of my goggles and cap, and secure them in the wetsuit sleeve as I pulled it off of my torso (I just let go of my goggles as I was pulling out of the wetsuit...neat little trick I read somewhere). I made it to transition and headed to my bike rack.

Oops. wrong rack. I ducked in one rack early, and was on the wrong side for grabbing my stuff. I ran around, and got to my bike.

Weird thing about transition (with a wetsuit on), is that trying to move too fast will impede your transition. I was trying to frantically to get my wetsuit off, and I needed to take a deep breath to focus on getting it off. Once I did that, I was ready to go. Only needed to throw my helmet on and I was off and running.

This would be the 2nd time I attempted a running mount with my bike shoes already on the bike. The first time had gone pretty well, and I had practiced the day before. However, the practice hadn't gone all that smoothly. For whatever reason, I wasn't able to focus on a smooth mount, and was screwing up all over the place. Fortunately, the mount during the race went pretty well. No major issues. By the time I was out of the parking lot and onto the main drag, I was secured, and moving. My running mount had made up time on the guy in front of me, and I quickly passed him.

I was able to get some good speed going, but was still breathing pretty heavily from the swim. There was salt water dripping from my nose. Presumably, it was one of many drops of water that I managed to accidentally get in my mouth/nose while swimming erratically.

I knew that I would need to start hydrating immediately. Only 10 miles on the bike to get some liquids in, and it would be over quickly. I grabbed some gatorade, and then kept on moving. I knew that Colin was ahead of me, but I wasn't sure how far ahead he was. It was a pretty uneventful ride up to the turnaround. I was feeling good, because every second that I didn't see Colin meant I was that much closer to him. I got pretty close to the turnaround before I saw him. Maybe I was a minute behind?

After the turnaround, I realized why those first miles felt so good: I had some help. There was a pain-in-the-ass headwind smacking my face that had been an ever-so-nice tailwind just a few minutes ago. I tried to maintain a high cadence, even in the wind. Another uneventful set of miles back to transition, where we'd turnaround again. I got very close before I saw Colin again. Maybe 45 seconds behind? I made up some ground on a competitor at the turnaround. For the first loop, you had to stay left, and the guy in front of me faltered for a second. I was able to overtake him since he slowed to correct his minor mistake. Then it was back out on that flat, fast course for one more loop. By this point, other waves had finished the swim and were moving out onto the bike course. There were no problems with merging, but there were a bunch of people on the course now. Not a problem. I stayed left, and just cranked, and passed a bunch of people.

I got passed the original point where I saw Colin. I was definitely making up ground. And when I saw him this time, I managed to look at my watch so I could gauge how far behind I was. 30 seconds. Not bad, but I should really be catching him more quickly.

I hit that same headwind, and tried to push through. As I got closer to transition, I didn't see a ton of runners on the path, and knew that I was close to the front. Sure there was about 1/4 mile which didn't run along the bike course, but I was betting that there wasn't a huge pack of 50 runners just out of sight. Maybe a couple here and there, but not many.

I came in hot for the dismount, and did a nice rolling dismount, having unstrapped my shoes and stepped over and off my bike. I pretty much threw my bike back onto the rack and tossed off my helmet. Now just to put my shoes on. Oh, and the jellybeans.

I had decided to bring some jelly beans for energy during the run. I made sure to put them in my shoe so that I wouldn't forget to bring them along. I tossed the bag in my shirt pocket, threw my shoes on, and headed out. I didn't get a good look at how many bikes were back in the racks, but guessed that it wasn't that many.

I felt somewhat ready for the run. Those damn jelly beans, though. The bag was too big, and it was sloshing around way too much in the pocket. I decided to pour some out into the pocket, and then throw the rest away. I managed to do this within 20 feet of transition, where there was a trash can waiting for me. As I threw the bag out, I grabbed a handful of beans and tossed them in my mouth. No sense in waiting right?

My chest was tight again, probably because of dehydration, and was struggling to get moving. I was able to shake it off though, and settled into a good pace. I think a guy passed me after about half a mile. I hit the Mile 1 water station, and was running about 8:20 pace. I threw some water on my head, which felt great, and I was able to keep moving at what felt like a slightly faster pace. I had run the course before, so I had a good idea of what to expect.

I got close to the initial slight turn before the turnaround, and the elites were passing me. There was a USAT official clearing the right of the running lane (we shared the going and coming for a bit on Day Blvd.) A few guys blazed by me, and I kept on heading towards the first turnaround. I hit the turnaround, and was able to see a couple guys were right behind me. One guy came up on me shortly after and passed, but I was able to hold off the next guy for a while.
I headed down the walkway to the 2nd turnaround, and got a big boost. This walkway was basically a glorified jetty that reached out across the water, and connected to another piece of the walkway at a small "island" gazebo type structure. I mention this, because there was lots and lots of cooled air coming up off of the water, which really made the world feel like a good place, after all. Also it was blowing as a partial tailwind, so it was cooling me and giving me some free speed at the same time.

Maggie was stationed in no-mans land, by the 2nd turnaround, and she cheered me on, telling me that I was in the top 15 or so. I had recently crossed paths with Colin, and he was about 1 minute ahead of me. Only about 5 guys were in between us. He was moving nicely.
I threw some more jelly beans in (they were melted at this point), and kept moving. The then tailwind was now a headwind, and was slowing me down a bit. It was over quickly enough, and I was back onto Day Blvd, heading towards the end. One more guy passed me, and I worked on keeping up with him, which I did a decent job of.

I could see the cones for the turn onto the beach, and picked it up a little more.

I hit the beach (which, I believe is where the race actually ended, because the sensor mats were right at the point where you run onto the beach), and then had about 200 feet to the finish. It is a pain in the ass running in sneakers in the sand. I picked up my legs and was able to make a strong finish. Colin was able to cheer me on for the last 50 feet, having just finished.

We recovered, chatted, drank some water, and just generally felt good. One of the other competitors mentioned to Colin that he though Colin got 2nd place. Not too shabby.

We figured we'd pay a visit to Maggie, so we headed back up the course, cheering on some of the other competitors. We got to the walkway, and the cops were being kinda hardass-y about letting us walk up while the race was still going on. I can respect that. If I was racing (and, hey, I just was!) I wouldn't want to see people walking on the course, especially if they had already finished the race. So we decided to cut our losses, and head back to the beer tent.

We went into the beer tent, and each got a beer. I didn't get halfway through it, when I started to get a pounding headache. I guess I needed more water. I gave what was left to Colin, and told him that I needed to get some water and Gatorade. He went back to transition to grab his phone. Oh, but not before checking the results. He got 2nd and I got 3rd place! Yea! I'm honored to share the podium with that beast.

I continued to down lots of water and Gatorade, and stayed in the shade, under a Muscle Milk tent. I was not feeling good. I certainly wasn't feeling any better. Yep, it was getting worse. Maggie's post was finished, so I grabbed her, and we hung out by the tent, while I drank more.

They announced that they were going to have the awards ceremony soon, so we walked back over the party area. I still felt kinda bad, but thought that I was getting a little better. Colin made it back just in time to stand on the podium, and we celebrated. The podium felt good, but it was short-lived. I was really feeling bad, so I sat inside with some water, trying to gain myself.

I was getting nauseous, and headed to the bathroom. I was pacing a bit, getting pretty bad, and a volunteer walked in, saw how shitty I looked, and offered to call the Medics for me. I took him up on it, and walked out to the lobby of the building. I sat down, and shortly after a couple of lifeguards came in and helped me cool down. They had some ice, and told me to drink water slowly. I think the ice on the forehead really helped. They offered to call the medics, and this time I said yes, thinking that they'd be able to put in a quick IV line right there, and I'd be all set.
After about 15 minutes, they showed up, and asked me how I was. They ran through their battery of questions and tests, and offered to take me to the hospital. I was slowly feeling better, and since they had established that it wasn't anything life threatening, I decided to decline going to the hospital (which wouldve been hours and hours, I'm sure). They were very professional, and very courteous. And calm. they brought a very big sense of calm to the situation, which was refreshing.

During all of this, Colin had headed back to get his truck, since it probably wasn't safe for me to be riding in my condition. Right around the time he got back, I was feeling a lot better, and the lifeguards, who were also great people, headed out, having done their job. The one kid was a really cool guy who was one of the top 100 high school hockey players in America. We chatted for a bit about hockey, and how drafting works, and what colleges he was considering. You could tell he loved the sport (why else would you wake up at 4am every morning for most of the year), and he loved to talk about nothing more than he loved to talk about hockey. Remember the name Scott McKena, he'll be a great player someday.

I was recovered and ready to go home. Next time, let's not get dehydrated.