First let me say that my expectations were met or exceeded on every point; the Tri One O One organization should be very proud of the Clear Lake event and their execution. I went in comparing this experience to IMCdA and it’s obvious to me that Shannon and Denise and the whole 101 team know what makes the IM product such a draw: attention to customer service and to the details. Tri One O One nailed it completely; from check-in to race morning to race finish and everything in between. And, I must also say, each and every volunteer was absolutely superb, going the extra distance in many cases in my opinion.
Read on if you dare (LONG!).
The lakefront venue is stunningly beautiful and, like CdA, only a few steps from Main Street USA amenities that make a race venue enjoyable for a competitor’s support team (family friends in my case); place for the kids to play, get tasty food, shop, and simply relax in comfort.
To back up a little- I signed up for this race because I really wanted to see an ultra distance option (with the quality and buzz associated with NAS events) within reasonable driving distance of the SF Bay Area. I was and am a supporter of the CaliMan race and would be over the moon if both organizations can get these races to the places to which they aspire- destination events for the tri community. The close proximity and introductory entry fee was also an incentive for me because I race on a more meager budget compared to many athletes I know. In other words, my risks were low going in.
That said, I signed up late in the game (just a couple of days before the fee bump), was recovering from a month long respiratory virus at the time, and had no hope of putting in much preparation for the distance. In fact, by way of full disclosure, I’ll admit I was perversely motivated by my desire to see just how far I could go on my 30 years of experience as an endurance sport competitor and just my normal day-to-day fitness regime of 5000 yards pool/week, bike commute (40 miles/week) plus one weekend ride (50 hilly miles), and approximately 10 miles/week tempo runs of 3-4 miles each. That’s all.
I was really counting on my lanky 145 pound runner’s build to save my ass on the “rolling” run course but… I’m here to say it again:
THERE’RE NO MIRACLES ON RACE DAY WHEN IT COMES TO ULTRA DISTANCE RACING.
I can’t fake that distance and hope to be in anything other than survival mode for a run like that on Sunday. I proved it to myself the hard way, and now, I’m sitting here barely able to stand let alone be of any use in a building evacuation.
Racing:
Perfect conditions, both water and air temps; 70 for the water, mid to high 70’s for the bike and run, light breeze to start, stiff breeze by early afternoon.
We camped at Clear Lake State Park (again budget decision) which is beautiful and more to the point- HAS SHOWERS. Despite the hard drinkin’ group next to our site, with ear plugs and a decongestant, I slept reasonably well in my tent. Got up at 5 a.m. intending to be down in Lakeport by 6 a.m.(fifteen minutes by car from the park). Made espresso on the camp stove, had a cinnamon raisin bagel with PB, and started sipping the Gatorade. Had my Eddy Merckx moment, went to the showers (6 minutes/75 cents), lubed up and got my race clothing on (opted for PI bibshorts and, wait for it, my Peaceful Tribe/Cervelo Long Course top in honor of Dan and Monty and the rest of the ST family present). Gathered up my wetsuit, cap, and F#@K! Where’d my goggles go?!? (Flashback to home on Saturday morning while trying to sort and pack AND yell at the kids at the same time. Standing there with my prescription goggles in one hand and regular ones in the other and…) Yep, still sitting there on the bed most likely buried under some clothes or a robe or some such.
So, no biggie, we’ll get down to the race venue and just buy some from one of the vendors. Well, while there was a bike shop there, and some nutrition folks there, not a pair of goggles to be found for purchase. So while I was madly checking the bike and loading up the top tube with PowerBar chunks, I made my buddy Bruce (love ya man!) go up to Mr. Race Announcer with my tale of woe. To his credit and as evidence of his excellent technique, the announcer softened the blow by reminding all present how stressful this triathlon thing is and how we’ve ALL forgotten gear at one point… In less than five seconds there were five pairs of goggles offered. BLESS YOU ALL, YOU SAVED MY ASS (OK, eyes anyway) and I will always remember the selfless generosity that morning. (P.S. I hope you got them back as I turned them in to race HQ after my finish.)
Anyway, clock is ticking down to 7 a.m. start where the pros go first followed by a mass AG start. Beautiful convocation and national anthem just before heading over to the boat ramp. Sun is low over the mountains on the other side of the lake, feeling good, loving the deep water start because you’re just treading water out there surrounded by all those brother and sister triathletes, wishing each other well, the last minute instructions from the dock and then…splendor! Bodies in motion, surging forward, splashing above and bubbles underneath, bright green caps and arms flashing in the morning light. My favorite part of triathlon- a gorgeous swim filled with the promise of a day ahead of shared suffering and the spectacle of the pro men and women blazing past.
SWIM: 1:00:15
T1: 3:26
Felt good in the water; knew I’d be somewhere in the middle or perhaps the best of the rest depending on the field and my spotty navigation skills (neck problems have me sighting less and less and relying on lateral cues more and more). Water visibility about six feet or so, a little weedy on the return leg in closer to shore. I just tried to relax and since I had no aspirations for a high AG placing given my training, just used the “It’s a long day out” mantra to stay within myself early.
This was the first part of the volunteer awesomeness; the change tent attendance was quick, friendly, and competent. It might have helped that I was near the latter third of the swim finishers but I saw no mix-ups save one racer that got their T2 bag instead of the right one. Might have cost that person an extra minute at most.
BIKE: 4:54:34
T2: 1:51
Got on the bike and took off at what I thought I could sustain over the 80 miles; I was shooting for an 18 mph average but without knowing the course I was just going by experience for an untrained long course me. Pavement was a little rocky in town but the marking was excellent with sufficient lane space coned off for the racers. Superb intersection management by a mix of CHP, sheriff’s deputies, and local police. They inspired confidence and, kudos to the 101 crew for providing more than adequate police presence. I know it’s expensive but that’s where the bulk of the risk lies for the competitor IMHO so I really appreciate when RDs go the extra mile here.
The bike aid stations rocked; super well stocked with food, Hammer gels, water, INFINIT, the works. Volunteers seemed to have been trained to a pretty good degree although handing up a bottle is an art so I’ll excuse the one mishap I had out of the half dozen I received.
What a course! Stunningly beautiful wooded out-and-back contrasted with the rolling agricultural scenes and then swooping back into town three times on that awesome roller coaster descent (hit 45 mph the last time down). The bike course exceeds CdA by light years and even edges out Wildflower in terms of scenery IMHO.
But… all that beauty couldn’t keep the wheels from coming off at about mile 50 for me; the lack of cycling miles crept into my quads and so I started to play the NO CRAMPS DANCE of soft pedaling, stretching on the bike, forcing down gels to boost electrolytes and simply going low aerobic. Couple my declining pace with my inability to pee on the bike (believe me I’ve tried everything short of catheterization) and my average speed began to plunge. The jig was up and the bill was now due.
RUN: 3:21:50
HOLY FREAKIN’ MOLY! Ow. Ow. Ow. After another superb changing tent experience with cold towels and personal shoe assistant I took off into the great unknown going only by what I read posted in the 101 Forum from those dedicated (and smart) enough to come out and preview the run course. OK, so the run is “rolling hills”, that’s my strength, I say to myself. I’m cruising out of town and handling the real rollers while my run legs come around, happy to be off the bike saddle and aerobars, turn left into a long slight uphill straightaway and then I see it- NO FREAKIN WAY! It looks like the start of Alpe D’Huez where it turns and goes BOOM. My mind switches into engineering mode and calculates energy expended vs. time gained and my mind tells my body “You are not going to run this.”
I must now say- For all of you that ran every hill on those two loops, I bow down to you. I’m not worthy, not one ounce of my skinny-ass, so called “runner’s body” is worthy of following your strides over those mountains described as “rolling”.
Each and every hill on that nine mile loop was an excuse to walk as far as I was concerned. My calves were already tight on the actual rolling part so I was not about to tear them up on those walls. So, using the free downhill speed and my tempo 8:00/mile pace on the flats (yes there were a couple), I cobbled together an average of just under 11:00/mile just to get the torture over with. The last two miles were slightly downhill so I lit it up just because I could and made sure not to take out the old(er) guy in the chute because, again, I was not worthy on the day. More cold wet towels, attentive catchers, timing chip strippers, and medal bestowers. Awesome!
The aid station volunteers were so excellent, running up the road to take orders so they’d be ready when we got even with the tables. They had Coke, pretzels, gels, fruit, everything (although I go strictly gels and water on the run). Plenty of porta potties, no waiting, ever. I even got coated in a gallon of sunscreen, by a grandma no less, who honed her technique on her grandchildren whom I sure will never suffer the pain of a reddened shoulder as long as she’s around to administer the Banana Boat.
FINAL: 9:21:57 (7th/13, 40-44 AG)
I can’t say enough about the organization, the volunteers, the region (although it’s obvious life is hard for lots of Lake County folks); this race was superb. I feel like I got a Porsche for the cost of a Ford Focus (due in part to the intimate first year numbers). I truly hope that my place in history as a finisher of the inaugural Tri One O One Clear Lake carries the cache’ over time I believe it should. That is to say, I think we have a winner here in this event and I want you all to have a chance to experience this great venue as I did; treated like a champ every step of the way and feeling spent but energized at the same time.
Thanks for reading.
Congratulations on doing extremely well for an unknown distance! Goodluck recovering!