The world famous Hawaiian Ironman Triathlon is comprised of a 2.4-mile swim in the open ocean, a 112-mile bike ride and a full 26.2-mile marathon run.
I am no ironman. I don’t know what metal to compare myself to, probably something more like copper or aluminum. Regardless of my ranking on the periodic table, I have always admired triathletes and wanted to run in a triathlon myself, not to compete for a top finish, just a finish.
I like to think I’m in pretty good shape and I have a little experience racing mountain bikes. But this spring I felt an urge to improve my summer fitness routine. With the goal of completing a triathlon by the end of the summer, I finally bought my first road bike in April.
Like many triathlete wannabes, I have always been intimidated by the swimming leg, which is usually a mile long in a lake or ocean. The only swimming I’ve done in recent memory is from a boat to a water ski and back.
I came up with my own approach to easing into my triathlon debut. After four or five 20-mile road rides on my new bike, I signed up to ride the biking leg for a three member team, leaving the swim and run to more capable and experienced friends. I finished the 12-mile road course in the middle of the pack and felt pretty good about it. But as I sat at the finish line watching middle-aged moms and retired accountants finish the race on their own, I felt more than a little unsatisfied.
That night I searched the Internet for the next triathlon in the area. I found several local races ranging in length, terrain and swimming venues. I decided I wanted my first race to be a positive experience, meaning a guaranteed finish. I found what I was looking for in the Summit Triathlon and began recruiting friends for moral support.
The Summit Triathlon held in Kamas, Utah, is hardly a warm-up for an Ironman. The three disciplines are arranged in reverse order from the standard triathlon. The race starts with a 1.5-mile run, followed by a six-mile bike ride and ends with a 200-yard swim in an indoor pool. In a word, doable.
After the Summer Semester I had about a month to train for my challenge. I started with the goal of doing all three legs over the course of a day at least two separate times before the real thing. That didn’t happen. To make a long, excuse-filled story short, I gave into weekend trips and late night hangouts more often than not, knowing it was going to cost me. All in all, I made it to the pool three times, each time completing the 200-yard distance at least twice in relative comfort. The uncertainty of how I was going to do it after running and biking loomed in the back of my mind all the while. I kept up with my usual twice-a-week 15- to 20-mile bike rides and went on four two-mile runs during my last two weeks of preparation time.
I ended up talking eight friends into competing with me, each with varying experience in the three sports. We were all in for the fun of it and made a great team.
On race day, my cell phone’s alarm sounded at 6:45 a.m., ending my anxiety-filled, sleepless night. We had made a makeshift camp in the Oakley rodeo grounds parking lot. From the bed of my truck, I sat up in my sleeping bag not quite ready to expose myself to the 45-degree morning.
Check in was at 7 a.m. I hurriedly set up my transition station, hung my bike, and arranged my helmet, biking shoes and swim goggles in a neat little row.
By 8 a.m., the sun was cresting the eastern mountains and people with numbers pinned to their chests were scurrying between the locker room and transition area like fire ants.
Since it was a non-sanctioned beginner event, all adult participants male and female crowded behind the starting line in one big mob. At 8:15 we were off. During the run the members of our team separated quickly, most of us found our own pace and went it alone. I was shocked and encouraged by how quickly the halfway marker came and went. I entered the transition area feeling pretty good about my time and level of fatigue.
During the six-mile bike leg, all I did was stress about the coming swim, and tried to conserve energy where I could. Back at the transition area I stripped off my helmet, shoes and shorts shaking with excitement and nerves.
I saw three of my friends already in the pool as I threw on my cap and goggles. The 25-yard pool required me to make four laps down and back. I felt decent after the first two laps. Then, either I hit the wall or it hit me, but the impact was instant and almost paralyzing. I resorted to back strokes, gasping for air, as I watched my girlfriend, a much stronger swimmer, effortlessly bust out her laps and finish the race a full minute before I literally dragged myself over the edge of the pool and finished with 43.1 minute time.
I had beaten my 45-minute goal and landed in fourth place in my age group. The nausea passed quickly, leaving me feeling satisfied with my rookie performance.
We drove home trading raffle prizes and laughing as we compared race stories. The triathlon was as hard, fun and fulfilling as I hoped it would be. I’m still far from being an ironman, but hey, you gotta start somewhere.