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wolfangel

Canada

Member Since 2003

Followers 4 Following 58

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Thursday Sep 01, 2005

Aug 31, 2005
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Why? Why would a person want to swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, and then run 26.2 miles in a single day? That is a question I have avoided answering the last three days, since my attempt to do Ironman Canada in Penticton on August 28, 2005.

The simple answer: Discovery.

Little things in a day of racing become an allegory for the larger things in your life. Circumstances of your existence which get lost in the banality of the daily grind, are glaringly exposed during a day of agony, and joy. What was exposed to me? What did I discover? Nothing profound or earth shattering. Just that I have embraced ignorance and avoidance too much in my life.

Time for a pre race situation analysis before I digress too much!

I am a male, and have just moved into the 35-39 age category. I have done two previous Ironman triathlons, Penticton in 2003, and Coeur d'Alene back in June. Between the two races, there was no apparent improvement in my performance. My time in the lake was almost identical, my bike time was ten minutes faster (easier course), my run was about thirty minutes faster (run to walk ratio went from 1:1 to 2:1), and my transition times were markedly slower.

But that is the past, and every triathlete is looking for a personal best in their upcoming event. And we can get pretty... the word escapes me. You know, the opposite of scrupulous. FRIVOLOUS! (Had to get the dictionary out). Anything from best overall time, to least time spent in the portapotties. Going into my race, my expectations were quite low. Most people train hard to race easy--I seem to train easy so my race is hard.

If you want the details:

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

Spending eleven hours in a minivan with my mother and grandparents. And that is only the trip there.
Eating a meal at a chain restaurant, and realizing just cause it was good in Sherwood Park, does not mean it is good in Kelowna.
Standing in the merchandise expo, and realizing I do not need anything.
The sharp pain in my shin on Friday, and looking down and seeing a friggin wasp!
Standing in line to get into the welcome banquet, and understanding being fashionably late has its advantages.
Sleeping in, every day (except Sunday!).
The alarm blasts at 4:10AM, and wondering how many times I can hit snooze (answer=none!).
Dreams still clinging--self timed IM, running in mukluks, trying to find a watch at Radioshack.
Driving from OK falls an hour and a half before sunrise, the contrast of the black mountains to the grey sky.
Upon gazing at the blanket of urban lights in the valley, Grandfather mentioning how small Penticton seems as we descend into town.
Picking a line with the most cute girls for bodymarking.
Realizing lines are based on race numbers--which are base on age and sex.
Finding my line, which happens to be the shortest.
Waiting for the relatives to come pick up my dry clothes bag.
Self seeding at the back of the pack.
Doing the back stroke for most of the fiirst leg.
Second leg is straight into the rising sun, and I stop horsing around and actually do freestyle.
Third leg is the shortest, but filled with the most trepidation--watching the lake bottom gradually near you, keep looking up for a site line on the beach.
A kayaker splashing the water near my head--I was siting on the wrong portion of the beach.
Standing up too soon.
Struggle against the pull of the water on my legs as I wade onto the beach.
Feebly manage to pull the zipper down on the back of my suit and get my arms free.
Attempt to pull my calf zippers up before I receive assistance for wetsuit removal, resulting in miscommunication and conflicting goals.
Ignoring volunteers waving me towards the change tents, and heading straight to the portapotty.
Sitting in the change tent, with the volunteer informing me I better hurry, cause I need to be out of transition before swim cut off.
Trepidation--how can I have been twenty minutes slower in the water?!?
Heading out on Main Street, not passing many people, cause I am sooooo far back.
Tacks on Maclean Creek Road!
A short respite in the shade of a cliff by Vaseux Lake.
Wind negligible, so the ride down hwy 97 through the orchards is...bearable.
Passed by Mike.
Richter Pass--lowest gear, and slow pedalling.
I pass Mike--things will continue in this vein until mile 80.
A small respite, could this hill be over--not likely.
Wow, the first female to pass me on a hill--why is she so far back??? (Probably a flat tire)
The bonk begins, and here comes the Crawston out and back to the special needs pickup.
Pulling into the medical tent, and icing my swollen shin for five minutes--it is just after 2PM, and I am 115 km into the course.
Near surrender, I get back on my bike and continue south, into the wind a gradual incline.
This ain't working, even after reaching the turnaround, and heading back north with the tail wind.
Pulling into the same medical tent, and accepting defeat.
Waiting around for ninety minutes for a van.
Driving the course for another ninety minutes picking up the other defeated--numbering eight by the end of the journey.
Passing a cyclist still on the course, who had to do five kilometres in five minutes, or face cut off.
blah blah blah



Too tired, and inspiration has faded. I will continue with my discoveries another day.

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