Cross another line item off the Bucket List. I not only completed my first triathlon, but I came in first place! Well, maybe I should give you a few more details as that statement can be a little misleading….
Background…
About 3 months ago, I started swimming laps in the pool at the gym, as well as trying out some spin (cycling) classes in an effort to exercise in the comfort of air conditioning (like Mother Nature intended). After a while, that sort of morphed into a short jog on the treadmill too. So, after realizing that a Triathlon didn’t necessarily mean 11-12 hours of physical torture, my friend Billy successfully talked me into entering.
I signed up for a local “Sprint Triathlon” which is basically a shortened event from the longer Olympic or Ironman lengths. The Sprint events are typically held on Saturdays as a warm up for the Olympic races on Sundays. This event was a .5k swim, 20k bike and 5k run. In comparison, the Olympic distances are 1.5k swim, 40k bike and 10k run and the Ironman is 3.8k swim, 180k bike and 42.2k run (or a FULL MARATHON after a 2 mile swim and 112 mile bike ride to us mere mortals).
My event received entries from both Elite level athletes (those with $9,000 specially equipped bicycles and a private personal coach) as well as the rank and file weekend warriors like myself. Although I shared the same course at the same time as the Elite competitors, I was judged and ranked in a separate timing pool.
Race day…
We started out bright and early (6am) standing in line with about 300 other crazed individuals wearing tight fitting shorts and holding their entry fees. I slapped down my money and received a color coded swim cap labeling me as a “newbie.” Then, I stood still while my bib number was written in marker on each arm and my age and the letter “T” promanately marked on the back of each calf muscle. Not really sure why that was necessary, but didn’t ask questions. Worst case scenario, at least I have identifiers if they find me passed out on the road.
After staging our bicycles in the transition area and double- checking my gear, we made our way down to the swim area (a very large lake in a County park). The sun started to rise and I was amazed to see people of all age groups and backgrounds. There were entire families that treated this like a morning at the park, either as competitors or there as supporters. What I expected to be a hard core athletic event was more like a very large company picnic. The energy level was high, yet relaxed at the same time.
All the athletes then got knee deep in the water and we received our course instructions. I was more nervous than anything else about the swim, having only practiced in the controlled environment of the gym pool. The gun went off and several hundred bodies took off, splashing about like a tank full of minnows. I quickly got my first taste of competition when swimming became more like wrestling with all the bodies moving in almost zero visibility lake water. I decided to hold back and let the masses take off and moved off to the side of the pack. I swam along at my normal gym pace for about 2-3 minutes then stopped to stick my head up and look around. Somehow, I had managed to pass the first buoy with only 4-5 other swimmers in front of me and what looked to be the last moments of the Titanic behind me. Wow, was I really doing this correctly? It appeared the second buoy was still in front of me and I was headed in the same direction as everyone else. A few minutes later I found myself back at the beach area with my feet able to touch the sandy bottom. I stood up and splashed my way to the ground course, making a bee line for the transition area about ¼ of a mile away, running among the several hundred cheering families and spectators.
It turns out that getting somewhat dry, putting on your shoes/shocks and shirt while trying to maneuver a bicycle off a rack while simultaneously sucking down a GU energy gel and dodging hundreds of other people trying to do the exact same thing is a sport within a sport! In fact, at the end of the event you get a timing score for all three of the individual events, as well as your transition times which all run consecutively to reach your final overall time.
Onto the bicycle. There were only a few dozen people ahead of me at this point, obviously the ones that had mastered how to tie their shoes and hop on a bicycle faster than I did. I actually passed a few people within the first mile and was feeling like Lance Armstrong until (later) finding out there was a separate event going on simultaneously consisting of just a bike ride and those folks didn’t have the same age and event info written on the back of their legs. So THAT is why I was labeled!
Earlier that morning, I wondered just what spending upwards of $9,000 on a bicycle might get you. Well, the answer is speeding by me on my much more frugal model while yelling “passing on your left!”
Yep, got passed quite a few times between miles 6 and 12 but at least I felt a little better after noticing that most of them had a much younger age written on the backs of their legs or were one of the Elite level folks. Maybe this whole branding thing was more of a morale booster by the race staff?

Off the road and back to the transition area. I prop my bike on the rack, down a quick cup of water and head out on the run course. Lots of water puddles and a sloppy mud/sand combo on the course (thanks to a large thunderstorm the night before). Good thing I was wearing my barefoot trail shoes.
As the run worked its way through the woods I didn’t see many other competitors and started to wonder if all those years hiking and backpacking in the Boy Scouts had been a waste. Did I really get lost on a simple jogging trail? I came up on what I thought would be the first mile and was relieved to find a few volunteers holding water cups and shouting words of encouragement. Wow, only 2 miles left to go.
Somewhere between mile 2 and 3 I kicked it into high gear, only to find the modern day version of Forrest Gump and his little brother come up on my heels and pass me as soon as we hit a wide spot in the trail. Whew, ages 24 and 22 on their legs, over 15 years my junior!
Finally, the finish line. All the spectators and families that were previously at the lake front had moved the picnic and were yelling and holding large signs of encouragement. There was a big formal finish with a large clock and an announcer. What did he say? I heard my name and 1 hour, 15 minutes as my time, but what was that afterwards? First place in my age group (34 and over)? No way!! As soon as I regain consciousness and find Billy we’ll have to research that.
Well, it’s true. In the amateur division of us 100 or so first timers I got 5th place overall and 1st place in my age group. Forrest Gump and his little brother were there receiving trophies too, along with two high school kids that apparently only run/bike/swim in their free time and have no other hobbies as they finished faster than me by 8 and 10 minutes. So I got beat by a bunch of athletic dudes over 15-20 years younger than me. Who would have ever guessed three years and 150 pounds ago I’d even consider doing something this crazy. Well, it’s not that crazy…I’m signed up again for next Saturday!
