Terre Haute had been an unexpectedly good race for me. My riding especially has come on as of late, and since the cylinders seemed to be firing, I jumped into the Jeffersonville triathlon this weekend. The main goal was to score some USAT points towards an All-American status. I'd done well in a race on a similar course last year, so it seemed like a good plan.
There are dangers to this race. It isn't the course per se, rather the course marshaling - or lack thereof. Jake did his first race down here and was misdirected into a longer run. Last year I did a race and was misdirected on the run. I had that under control though... so I figured nothing could really go wrong this year.
Jimmy joined me bright and early, and with McDonald's breakfasts consumed we headed quickly to Jeffersonville. We made good time, found all exits open, and were soon parked only a few yards away from staging. So far, so good.
Check in, body marking, staging, all proceeded. I was a bit perturbed that Jimmy, despite registering only last night, had a better transition assignment than I did. Of course since it was Jimmy I couldn't be too surprised by that. By the way, they had two lanes and four rows of empty racks right next to the bike out. Yup, that's right. Can't fathom that logic.
We were to swim upriver 150 yards, then swim downriver 500 to the exit. About 30 swimmers started together, and honestly, I didn't find this part too much of a problem at all. I did run into Jimmy, my bad. Anyway, I managed to exit the water 3rd behind a high school swimmer and a 30-something. I didn't think this was bad at all.
There were 4 riders out of transition before me. I quickly overtook the first 2, a woman and a man, and saw the others way off in the distance. I figured they were out of reach, but I piled on the pedals anyway. I wasn't going as fast as I went last summer, but I didn't really expect I could. It's early yet. Still, when I looked up again I suddenly realized I was upon the first of the next 2, and would definitely catch the other. They were collapsing before my very eyes!
I caught the last of the riders before the 5th mile, absolutely blowing by him. At mile 5 I started straining the eyes forward to see any sign of other riders or a turnaround point. Neither were visible. By 6 miles I was certain I was in the lead. We turned left onto what I thought certain to be an impending turn barrel. Nothing. For a second, I sat up and turned around. Had I taken a wrong turn? Nope the other guy was way off, maybe a minute or so, but he was on the same road. I laid back down and buried it. I vaguely remembered the website said the ride course was changed, so I went with it.
It was lonely out there. A voice kept nagging me that I was on the wrong path, but people, the few there were, kept pointing me on. Arrows appeared on the road whenever doubt was about to overpower me. And no one was in sight behind me.
Please Lord, let me be on the right path!
By the time I was in my 10th mile, I felt something must be terribly wrong. I don't know the area all that well, but I was pretty sure I was no where near the staging area. Maybe the bike course was slightly longer because of the change? Keep going. At mile 12, the course pitched up into what I later found out to be a Category 4 climb. It was tough, and couldn't have come at a worse time. My head was full of hope and doubt at the same time. Nothing to do but push and hope. I crested the hill, made a turn, then I saw it:
<sign>20k
That could mean only one thing; I was at the halfway point of the 40k race. I'm ashamed to say that for a moment I lost it. To the neighbors, I'm sorry. My language left a lot to be desired.
After a minute or so of me trying to figure out what I'd do next, the support van rolls up. It's the same guy that should have met me at 6.5 miles. I beat him to both check points. I asked him where the sprint was supposed to be and all he could do is point me back the way I came. I could have yelled at him, but what was the point? After my very brief encounter with him I could already tell he had a head full of rocks.
So I headed back. It was too late to salvage the sprint - that was over. But I briefly considered getting back and running the 10k. That was no good - my swim was too short. No, there was nothing for it. I was out of luck no matter what I did. Might as well continue the workout.
Knowing the race was over definitely took some of the desire to push that hard out of me. I still kept a good pace, but it dropped. I had been running 24.3 mph to 12.5 (even including that big hill), which was fast enough to get me the sprint win BTW, but in the end my total fell to 22 high. Just a good workout, nothing more.
When I got back, I racked my bike and found the race director. I said I wouldn't make a big fuss, but I wanted a refund. He said, "Of course, e-mail me." Which I have. And I've gotten no response yet. I'll be surprised if I ever hear from him, either. Hope I'm wrong, but I have a feeling I'm not.
Oh, and in case you might be wondering if I just messed myself up; I didn't. A woman came up to me after the race - the same woman I passed early on in the bike. She was in 4th on the ride at the time, and she saw us go on. She was from the area and knew something was wrong. She turned back, and just then that guy in the van I mentioned above rolls up, screeches to a halt, jumps out and plants a turnaround sign. The woman told him three people got through, and he said, "They were Olympic distance". She told him that was impossible, because the wave started behind us and swam twice as far, but Einstein wouldn't listen. So an already bad situation was turned into a disaster by his ineptness.
It wasn't all bad. Jimmy took 5th overall. Andie took 4th in the women's race and 25th overall. She was also the first woman out of the water. Those two had fine races, even if they thought they hadn't. I had a good time for most of it (race frustrating aside). It's one of those things that happens.
The shame of it all is that I would have won. There is no doubt about it at all. If I had stayed on that course I would have likely kept my 24.5 average (or more), and that was more than enough to be the first biker. And with the lead I was building, there would have been no one to catch me on the run (winner ran 18:49). Additionally, a win would have given me huge USAT points, and combined with my 85 from Terre Haute, would have made All-American a near certainty.
There is one (very minor) silver lining to all of this. I posted this stuff to Strava and found that someone had made a segment out of the race course. I am now the undisputed leader of the East Riverside Drive Climb segment of the race course. It ain't much, but it's all I got from the race.
Jake contacted me after I got home, and we went out for another ride. I didn't feel too badly, though I am sure I probably slowed him down some. The day's total went to 51 miles, a good start on a short week. Allen wants a ride tomorrow, so with a little push I can make a decent week yet.
There are dangers to this race. It isn't the course per se, rather the course marshaling - or lack thereof. Jake did his first race down here and was misdirected into a longer run. Last year I did a race and was misdirected on the run. I had that under control though... so I figured nothing could really go wrong this year.
Jimmy joined me bright and early, and with McDonald's breakfasts consumed we headed quickly to Jeffersonville. We made good time, found all exits open, and were soon parked only a few yards away from staging. So far, so good.
Check in, body marking, staging, all proceeded. I was a bit perturbed that Jimmy, despite registering only last night, had a better transition assignment than I did. Of course since it was Jimmy I couldn't be too surprised by that. By the way, they had two lanes and four rows of empty racks right next to the bike out. Yup, that's right. Can't fathom that logic.
We were to swim upriver 150 yards, then swim downriver 500 to the exit. About 30 swimmers started together, and honestly, I didn't find this part too much of a problem at all. I did run into Jimmy, my bad. Anyway, I managed to exit the water 3rd behind a high school swimmer and a 30-something. I didn't think this was bad at all.
There were 4 riders out of transition before me. I quickly overtook the first 2, a woman and a man, and saw the others way off in the distance. I figured they were out of reach, but I piled on the pedals anyway. I wasn't going as fast as I went last summer, but I didn't really expect I could. It's early yet. Still, when I looked up again I suddenly realized I was upon the first of the next 2, and would definitely catch the other. They were collapsing before my very eyes!
I caught the last of the riders before the 5th mile, absolutely blowing by him. At mile 5 I started straining the eyes forward to see any sign of other riders or a turnaround point. Neither were visible. By 6 miles I was certain I was in the lead. We turned left onto what I thought certain to be an impending turn barrel. Nothing. For a second, I sat up and turned around. Had I taken a wrong turn? Nope the other guy was way off, maybe a minute or so, but he was on the same road. I laid back down and buried it. I vaguely remembered the website said the ride course was changed, so I went with it.
It was lonely out there. A voice kept nagging me that I was on the wrong path, but people, the few there were, kept pointing me on. Arrows appeared on the road whenever doubt was about to overpower me. And no one was in sight behind me.
Please Lord, let me be on the right path!
By the time I was in my 10th mile, I felt something must be terribly wrong. I don't know the area all that well, but I was pretty sure I was no where near the staging area. Maybe the bike course was slightly longer because of the change? Keep going. At mile 12, the course pitched up into what I later found out to be a Category 4 climb. It was tough, and couldn't have come at a worse time. My head was full of hope and doubt at the same time. Nothing to do but push and hope. I crested the hill, made a turn, then I saw it:
<sign>20k
That could mean only one thing; I was at the halfway point of the 40k race. I'm ashamed to say that for a moment I lost it. To the neighbors, I'm sorry. My language left a lot to be desired.
After a minute or so of me trying to figure out what I'd do next, the support van rolls up. It's the same guy that should have met me at 6.5 miles. I beat him to both check points. I asked him where the sprint was supposed to be and all he could do is point me back the way I came. I could have yelled at him, but what was the point? After my very brief encounter with him I could already tell he had a head full of rocks.
So I headed back. It was too late to salvage the sprint - that was over. But I briefly considered getting back and running the 10k. That was no good - my swim was too short. No, there was nothing for it. I was out of luck no matter what I did. Might as well continue the workout.
Knowing the race was over definitely took some of the desire to push that hard out of me. I still kept a good pace, but it dropped. I had been running 24.3 mph to 12.5 (even including that big hill), which was fast enough to get me the sprint win BTW, but in the end my total fell to 22 high. Just a good workout, nothing more.
When I got back, I racked my bike and found the race director. I said I wouldn't make a big fuss, but I wanted a refund. He said, "Of course, e-mail me." Which I have. And I've gotten no response yet. I'll be surprised if I ever hear from him, either. Hope I'm wrong, but I have a feeling I'm not.
Oh, and in case you might be wondering if I just messed myself up; I didn't. A woman came up to me after the race - the same woman I passed early on in the bike. She was in 4th on the ride at the time, and she saw us go on. She was from the area and knew something was wrong. She turned back, and just then that guy in the van I mentioned above rolls up, screeches to a halt, jumps out and plants a turnaround sign. The woman told him three people got through, and he said, "They were Olympic distance". She told him that was impossible, because the wave started behind us and swam twice as far, but Einstein wouldn't listen. So an already bad situation was turned into a disaster by his ineptness.
It wasn't all bad. Jimmy took 5th overall. Andie took 4th in the women's race and 25th overall. She was also the first woman out of the water. Those two had fine races, even if they thought they hadn't. I had a good time for most of it (race frustrating aside). It's one of those things that happens.
The shame of it all is that I would have won. There is no doubt about it at all. If I had stayed on that course I would have likely kept my 24.5 average (or more), and that was more than enough to be the first biker. And with the lead I was building, there would have been no one to catch me on the run (winner ran 18:49). Additionally, a win would have given me huge USAT points, and combined with my 85 from Terre Haute, would have made All-American a near certainty.
There is one (very minor) silver lining to all of this. I posted this stuff to Strava and found that someone had made a segment out of the race course. I am now the undisputed leader of the East Riverside Drive Climb segment of the race course. It ain't much, but it's all I got from the race.
Jake contacted me after I got home, and we went out for another ride. I didn't feel too badly, though I am sure I probably slowed him down some. The day's total went to 51 miles, a good start on a short week. Allen wants a ride tomorrow, so with a little push I can make a decent week yet.
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