Leadman

The bus rumbled up the hill past Bachelor as the sun began to streak across the

upper hillsides of patchy snow. Everything seemed so familiar, right down to my

partner needing to use the bathroom and squirming through the last couple of

miles of our journey to Cultus Lake.

It was the Leadman Tri and it was my last race of the season. Everything

pointed to perhaps it being the last Leadman to be held here in Bend. If that is

the case it will be a shame because it’s a great race in a beautiful setting. All

year long each race had been filled with the unknown. Even the Beaver Freezer

and Deschutes Dash had their new elements be it a different pool or a different

distance. The Leadman though was familiar like an old shoe.

We arrived at Cultus and Wendy, my companion scrambled for the exit much as

her roommate Justin had done the previous year. We unloaded and made our

way to the transition area. Last year it had been cold and wet and the chilliness

of the lake had actually been a welcome relief from the ambient air temperature.

This year it was clear though it was still chilly.

I got everything organized and got my wetsuit on and made my way to the boat

launch where the swimmers were gathering. It was disappointing to see a

smaller turnout than the previous year – at least that is how it seemed. As the

group before us went off my group began to make their way out to buoy to begin

the swim. It seemed further but the water also seemed warmer and clearer –

perhaps due to the sunlight.

The gun went off and I began to swim hard. Perhaps I went out a bit too hard as

I noted that things were tightening up a bit. I remembered that Jaime had written

in my notes of avoiding just such a thing and so I did a mental reboot and slowed

my pace. After going past a couple of buoys and got into a pace that would be

manageable throughout the rest of the race. I rounded the final buoy and

mentally reminded myself that I had the swim in the bag. I made my way back

toward the shore. The sun was now completely up and it made for some

interesting sighting issues as we were swimming directly into its glare. I turned

into the boat launch area and thought to myself that I could have kept going.

Perhaps I could have gone harder, but in a year when I finally became

comfortable with the open water swim I was willing to take this swim even if I

could have gone a bit faster.

I stripped out of my wetsuit and kept things to a minimum – just the racing suit,

socks, shoes, and helmet. Last year out of the water my fingers were numb and

I struggled to get things on. This year I would be able to get out of transition in

less than half the time it took me last year. I turned the bike onto the

campground road and made my way to the highway. It was time to grab a quick

gel for nutrition. I looked down at my bike frame and realized that it getting

everything that I had forgotten to attach the gels to my frame. It would be race

that I would rely on my bottles – one full of perpetuem and the other full of water.

No losing bottles on this race.

I settled into a comfortable pace and cadence and started picking off riders one

by one. Things felt good and I was hitting at just over 20 mph. I knew that

wouldn’t last when I hit the hills so I was making the most of this part of the race.

I came up to a familiar logo and started my best Right Said Fred imitation and

serenaded Wendy with “You’re too sexy for that bike” as I passed by her. The

first hour passed and I realized that I was a third through the bike portion of the

race. The Cascade Lakes passed by, first Crane Prairie, then Lava, then Elk,

then Devil’s, and finally Sparks. The turnoff to Sparks signaled that toughest part

of the race was ready to begin – the hill from Sparks Lake up to the foot of Mount

Bachelor. I geared down and mentally got ready for the challenge. Jaime and I

worked on this part of the race two weeks prior to the race and he told me to

really make a push up the hill. I charged past others struggling up the hill and

kept mentally picking off markers as I made my way up the hill. When I rode past

the turnoff to the Westside Village I knew it was in the bag. One short climb up to

the ODOT maintenance area and then it was all downhill into Bend.

I made my way in to the transition area and heard a cheer from my wife as well

as a couple of families from the school where I teach. I quickly made my way out

of transition, through a couple of confusing turns, and ran out onto the course.

Things were feeling good and I was going at a pretty good pace. I even saw

Wendy coming down the road so I was able to serenade her one more time (she

claimed she couldn’t get the song out of her head during the race). Down Mount

Washington I ran and I was going at a pretty nice pace. I enjoyed the shade and

made my way up the first hill. The shade gave way to a blazing sun. The

previous year temperatures were in the high 50’s when I ran and it was actually

rather pleasant. This year it was sunny and the temperature was in the mid 80’s.

As I made my way up the hill on Meeks Drive I could begin to feel the heat beat

on me. I knew during the next four miles I’d be exposed to the elements and

would need to push myself hard. I made my way up the last hill and took some

comfort in the fact that I was running faster than some bikers who were struggling

up the same hill. The sun and heat began to take their toll. At the aid station

between mile 5 and 6 I actually stopped for a moment in the shade of the tent the

volunteers were using to down a flat but chilly Coke. I was determined to finish

strong and gathered up all my energy for that final push to the finish line. As I

neared the finish line I heard my friend and teammate Riley yell encouragement.

I plugged away at it and crossed the finish line almost thirty minutes faster than I

had done the previous year. I was finished and I had fun in the process. My time

was good enough for a small buckle and I relished in the fact that I had finished

the race and felt good afterwards. I wasn't passed on either the bike or the run
by other racers so I felt good about what I had done.  It was a great race and a
great feeling of accomplishment.

That night my wife and I met some old college friends on their way through Bend

as they took their son to Corvallis to begin his first year at Oregon State. We met

at LaRosa and sat in the same booth where I had sat the previous year with

Jaime, Heather, Justin, and Celeste after finishing Leadman. When we got done,

said our goodbyes, and headed outside, my wife and I could hear the announcer

recognize some runners who were still trickling in from the longer race. It was all

so familiar.

The next morning I awoke to a text from Jaime that simply said, ‘Welcome to the

off-season!” My racing season was over. It had been a good one. There is an

old saying that claims that familiarity can breed contempt. However, in this case

I have to say that familiarity bred content. I look forward to what the next racing

season has in store for me.

Waiting to Bolt Out of the Gate

The last few days fall has definitely been in the air. The mornings have been crisp and cool. The sun is coming up later and going down earlier. Yellows and reds are mixed in among the green leaves. With the preview it definitely becomes official next week when the autumnal equinox occurs.

This weekend is my last race of the year. It’s fitting as summer is moving into fall. I’m excited for the race but the end of the season brings up the unknown of what comes next. Soon the darkness will outweigh the light. My training will move from race prep to maintaining and building up my base.

A friend of mind said of Bend. “It’s a winter town where summer is an added bonus.” My coach likes to say that the race is the icing on the cake, so I guess that race season is that ‘summer bonus’. Once it is done it’s like the day after New Year’s. The moment you put the messy platter that held the tasty birthday cake in the dishwasher. The morning after you’ve finished the big race. All the build up and energy is gone and you’re left feeling as if you’re in a bit of a vacuum.

Years ago as a child I hated January. Christmas was done and winter had dug in its heels. My folks didn’t ski so at that time winter consisted of sledding and only if there was snow. It was cold, dreary, and bare.

As an adult I now see that month after the holidays as a time to regroup, redefine, reflect, recharge, and regenerate. It’s a time to plan for the upcoming year. In the next couple of weeks I hope to sit down with my coach and go through the past year and plan for the coming year. Chief among our planning concerns will be to prepare and develop a training plan for my first full Ironman next June in Coeur d’Alene.

For now though I still get to enjoy the last race of the season. This time last year I was simply trying to finish the race. Now I’m making a concerted effort to have nothing left in the tank when I cross the finish line. I’m approaching this race with confidence and excitement. I liken it to the first few seconds of a horse race where the horses and riders are loaded and everyone is waiting for the bell to ring and gates to fly open. I have all this pent up excitement and energy just waiting to get left on the course.

It’s a fitting end to what has been an eventful and interesting season. What began back in January with a foggy half-marathon in Salem will end with a long course race in September less than a mile from my home. Just like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas morning to rip open the biggest present I can’t wait to rip this race a new one.