Saturday, August 14, 2010

Tri Arkansas

Just returned from doing the Tri Arkansas Aquabike. For the uninitiated, Tri Arkansas is an international distance event--twice the distance of a sprint, which is the only distance I've done thus far--with a 1.5K swim, 40K bike, and 10K run. The Aquabike involves only the swim and bike. I figured doing this event was the easiest, least stressful way of getting close to a longer distance without losing my bottle: relatively close, nice area, lake swim rather than ocean, and NO RUN, which is my weakest event.

I left for Arkadelphia Friday afternoon at 2 p.m. I headed up 271 to I-30 and then took that straight in to Arkadelphia. It was a very tedious and hot drive. I arrived at the motel (Comfort Inn) not long after 5 p.m. and checked in. Room was nice, though lacking in microwave and fridge, which I thought had been included. The AC also didn't seem to work very well, though it did get cooler after the sun went down. (Also, I later found out that there is no WifFi in the rooms.) I left almost immediately for the packet pick up. I was very pleased that the race site was only ten minutes away. It was all very well organized and so I was heading back to my motel. I unloaded my bike and transition bag, then readied the bike, helmet, and race belt for next morning. I laid out my race gear and everything else. By 6:30 I was done. Naught to do but try and find something on TV and/or read a book. (Did both.)

Went to bed at 10. Work up at 12:30 to visit the loo, then back to bed. Woke up at 4 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. (I'd planned on sleeping until 5.) Nothing for it but to get up and get ready. Got my uni on, ate my PB&J sandwich, packed my gear back into my duffel and then hauled it all out to the car. Lastly, I filled my mini cooler with ice and loaded it. 5 p.m. and ready to leave.

Arrived at the race site, which was already open but nearly deserted. I racked my bike near the bike exit, laid out all my gear, then...waited in the dark. I wandered around, getting body marked, picking up my chip, visiting the port-a-potties. There really wasn't much to do but hang out in the Transition area and listen to other athletes trade war stories--not my favorite pre-race activity as it makes me a bit nervous. Luckily, my rack neighbor was a nice older gentleman who had some useful information about the bike ride. He said it was very hilly heading out, though from his description I understood it to mean a fairly constant gradient up to the turnaround. (I would later learn this as very misleading.)

Around 6:40 I headed down to the spillway and swam a bit. The water was very warm--reportedly 88-90 degrees Fahrenheit. And unlike the race promoters report about the crystal clear, clean quality of the water, it was no more clear than the water at Tyler State Park. That was a bit disappointing. I looked out at the course--the very long course compared to my normal swim, though it looked almost exactly to be the distance I swim all the time at Tyler State Park. The men's wave was scheduled first; women and teams second; a new event, a 1500 open-water swim third; then a duathlon heading out from the top of the spillway last. I sat around talking to a lady from Baton Rouge, Nancy Kuhlmeier, who will represent the USA at world's in Budapest in three weeks. Her right foot was heavily taped and she explained she had plantar fascitis. We talked about other things until time to get in the water. The men's wave went, and five minutes later we took off.

The start area, in the water between buoys, was very wide and there wasn't the packed-in feeling one gets at many races. The spacing remained pretty good throughout. I only had one female who pulled left into my "lane" but pulled up and let me pass. In all, the swim to the first turn was fairly straightforward and uneventful--with one exception. Before I even reached the first buoy, I sensed a movement from behind. A host of white caps appeared and I realized it was the next wave, which started five minutes after us! Sobering, but then again swimming was their specialty. They passed through fairly quickly, leaving the remainder of us to slog through. I felt pretty clearly that the main bulk of swimmers in my wave had moved ahead. I resisted the urge to look behind to see if I was the last one. (Pretty sure I wasn't but still...) I did catch up with some of the slowest male swimmers. The last leg seemed to take forever--and even then it wasn't over. There was one more turn before heading back to the spillway. I had figured the swim would take 30+ minutes and it felt like it. My only bad patch of the swim occurred right about here. A Sheriff's speed boat had passed swiftly a few hundred yards away, creating 2-3 foot swells. I felt them before I saw them, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. My vertigo kicked in and I quailed inside. (I have always wondered how strong swimmers can get in trouble. Alas, I am discovering many ways in which this can happen.) At one point I had to pull up and tread water for a few seconds just to get my bearings. (That helps to dispel the vertigo.) I had to go through one last wave of swells before finally making the shore. The dearth of fellow swimmers and spectators confirmed I was toward the back. Oh, well.....

The organizers had carpet laid out for the run up to the top of the spillway, but after that it was very painful pavement with many small stones. I managed a sort of crab-stepped jog, eventually walking the last few yards to the bike, taking off my speedsuit at the same time. I put on my bike shoes, helmet, and glasses. My bike stuck a bit on the rack, but I got it off and headed to the exit. Had troubled getting clipped in, but at last I was off.

After a sharp 180 degree turn, I faced the first hill. It was steeper than the outgoing hill at Jefferson, necessitating getting out of the saddle to make it. The first few miles after that weren't too bad. But around mile 4, the real blows began to land: punchy, steep hills that again necessitated getting out of the saddle and just muscling up however I could. My breathing sounded like a bellows and my speed was about 5 mph. Lame! Especially when I saw ladies just spinning up with seeming effortlessness. Eventually, I encountered very steep, technical descents, with speeds exceeding 30 miles per hour--so fast that the wind forced its way under the front of my Rudy Wingspan helmet, which felt as if it was being lifted off my head. I tried to lower my head, which helped some, but risked safety as I couldn't see as well. So the descents were not providing an opportunity to recover, and were followed immediately by walls of other ascents--never enough momentum from the previous climb to gain much advantage. By mile 10 I had half-baked thoughts of quitting (though I knew I wouldn't). I had already run through all the water in my Profile Aerolite bottle and refilled it from my spare water bottle (which I'm glad I decided to carry.) Finally, finally, at 12 miles in, I made the turnaround. Now I had the reverse experience of zooming down hills I had earlier battled up, and battling up descents which were now butt-kicking hills. Around mile 18 things evened out a good deal. I also ran out of water a few miles later but figured four more miles without water would not present a major problem--especially with no run to contend with. At last, back down the very steep hill to the spillway. I dismounted and crossed the timing mat, and with that my race was done.

It felt odd to be done "so early"--early enough to see the winners cross the run finish just a few minutes after I ended my race. (Does that give you an idea how fast they were?) I took a wet cloth and cleaned up as best I could, though that wasn't saying much. I went over to the tents were they had the food. Someone was grilling burgers, but as it was only 9:30 am, they weren't ready yet. I settled for a cookie and a bottle of water. Back to Transition and tidying up area, refilling my bag and carrying it to my car. I saw another racer done for the day take his bike and head out. It's not usual practice to allow bikes out of Transition until the last cyclist is in, but I decided to give it a try. They let me pass with hardly a word. That mean I had everything packed and ready to go. Question was, how long before I could go? I knew from the list of participants displayed prior to the race that there were only three ladies doing the Aquabike, so I would probably score something, so it was worth my while to hang around. Still, I hoped I could sneak out and go back to my motel to shower beforehand. But one of the race directors told me they would be doing awards in about 45 minutes. It was just past 10 a.m., so I figured I would stay. I did get some clean clothes and headed to the Spillway area restroom to change. Dumped my dirty laundry in the car, then...more waiting. And waiting. Results were out. The organizers had very cannily ordered awards medals that were all the same, distinguished only by the label on the back stating the race type, age group, and place. Not coincidentally, there was one first place medal for each lady (including myself) as we each conveniently fell into three separate decades/age categories. In the men's there were only medals for those categories equal to the entries: if only one entrant, one medal; if two, if three, three. So basically everyone who participated in the Aquabike got a medal of some sort. (Side note: my mom says "don't mention these sorts of things--just say that you won." True enough, but triathletes--any athlete--knows when they've won something against tough competition and when it was luck. It all counts the same on paper, but you know in your heart that it wasn't hard won--less honor in it, so to speak, than topping out a very tough, competitive age group, for example.)

I waited around long enough to get my medal, but by then it was 11:35 and my checkout time at the motel was noon. I snuck discreetly around the tents and to my car. I made it back to the motel by 11:45--only to discover upon entering my room that the cleaning crew had already been through! Well, tough. Checkout was noon and so it was still my room. I hopped in for a quick shower and was out the door by 11:53. I went to the office to return my "key". The clerk on duty seemed non-plussed when I reported I'd taken a shower after the room had been cleaned. She stated that they had "assumed" I had checked out. I replied, "I still had my key, so they should not have assumed that." (Yes, people often don't return their keys, but in any event, I was within my rights.) She had to accept the validity of this and took my key. I told her I just wanted to make sure the room was revisited as I didn't want the next guest to find a wet bathroom and dirty towels. Then it was out to the car and out to the Interstate.

It was a long, very hot drive. I don't think I've ever run my AC so high. I stopped a few times for nature breaks or to fuel up the car. I made it home by 3:30. And it's nice to be home--anti-climactic as always, when a race is done. Good to see the kitties. Jim was not very communicative as he was in a near-comatose state from lunch and hardly roused at all when I arrived. Business as usual, then.

Don't know if I will do this race next year. It's a nice venue, for sure, but the bike does not play to any "strength" (as if I had any!).