SOLE posted an interview with me about my 2010 season on their blog. Check it out!
Also, I want to share this photo of me coming out of the water at the Self Transcendance Triathlon. While I like this photo, my friend Rhett has mockingly called it “Beify-licious!”
My 2010 season finished off with a great race at the ITU Age Group Triathlon World Championship in Budapest.
I placed third in my age group (men 25-29) and eleventh overall across all the agegroupers competing at Worlds. I am pleased with this result, even though I have larger goals for triathlon in the future (I’ll get to that in a second).
First, some raw data and times, then I’ll provide more detail.
Woke at 4:30am in my too small, single bed (feet hanging over edge) with its too small blanket mostly covering my body. Felt ready. Ate a banana, a few rice cakes with honey, and a small handful of almonds. Headed out with my gear (bike was pre-racked) to the tram and then walked across the Danube. Streets were quiet. There were not even many other racers out the streets. Calm morning. No rain.
The transition area was very large, holding around 1500 bikes. Very mucky due to the constant and sometimes heavy rain that Budapest saw in the days leading up to the race. I went barefoot on the grass, prepared my bike, and then headed for the warmup run.
Time moved quickly. I felt that I was just following the timeline and plan I laid out earlier in the week. The race, in many ways, was already in motion for me. I felt calm as I waited to get into the water with the other guys in my group.
Due to poor race logistics on the part of the organizers, agegroupers did not have any opportunity to do swim warm ups. Obviously, this wasn’t ideal but at least it applied to everyone. I did some dry exercises and was ready to go.
Onto the start pontoon. Sitting on the edge with my feet in the water. Splashing water on my face and down the wetsuit. My Sable goggles had new lenses. Crystal clear.
Into the water. Cold but not bad. Managed to get my legs up high enough to push off the pontoon. The horn sounds.
Good. Very crowded at first. Lots of arms and bodies making contact with me, but nothing too vicious. I worked to stay focused on fast swimming and decent form. I had the nearly unavoidable physiological response to cold water—a feeling of constricted lungs and chest. No matter.
I found some feet and hips to swim off for the first 500m, making progress through some people who went out harder than they should have. Then I moved forward solo for a bit, although I pulled a couple guys along with me. My vision was good and I didn’t feel like I swam extra due poor sighting. The two guys on my tail passed me after about 200m. They swam side by side, so I stuck on their feet and got a nice draft for the rest of the swim. I passed them at the last turn before we made our way to shore.
I heard that the swim distance was accurate but my time was definitely fast. Certainly the combo of wetsuit and good drafting quickened me. Continued work on my swim should yield faster even times in 2011.
Sand run then up a slippery grass hill to the bike. Had issues getting my helmet on—it was tightened too much so I couldn’t get it over my noggin. I lost some precious seconds there but got it sorted very quickly. Strange error to make.
Despite zealous course martials enforcing the no drafting rules, draft packs formed. I knew that to be in the race I had to be faster than the front pack of guys (who would disperse from a draft pack when the motorcycle martials were around and then reform once the refs moved on).
The bike was flat, rough in spots, and a little short (supposedly 38km but I heard reports that it was actually 37km). Three 180 degree turnarounds on each of the three laps meant it was important to keep some speed and accelerate intelligently (not overpower) on the hairpins. I followed the drafting rules and passed a number of people who came out of the water ahead of me. As planned, whenever I passed people I made sure that I had so much speed that they wouldn’t even consider trying to get on my back wheel.
According to my research, I had the fifth fastest bike split out of all contenders at the race. Not bad. Very good, in fact. Special thanks to my Mom and to Bruce M., as well as SpeedTheory Calgary, for getting me on an Argon 18 Gallium Pro this year!
By the end of the last lap, I caught most of the front pack. Still, I knew there were still a few guys infront of me and I had no clue as to how many. Regardless, I felt ready to sort things out on the run.
The long transitions on this course were not helped by the muddy and wet ground conditions. In an effort to save my race shoes from getting caked in mud and saturated with water (which would add extra weight to them), I simply picked my shoes up and ran barefoot in the grass until I got to the cement (after the run start timing mat). Thus, my T2 time was faster than most because the 10 seconds that it took to put on my shoes was added to my run.
An unforeseen consequence of putting on my shoes later was that a twig or something stuck to the bottom of my barefoot, so when I started running it felt like a tack was piercing my the arch of my left foot every time I stepped. I was faced with the choice between stopping and trying to solve the problem or just pushing through the pain (with the hope that the object would shift positions eventually and cease to stab me). I decided to push through. I believe I made the right decision although running with this discomfort may have slowed me down a bit. On the other hand, it gave me another sort of pain to focus on.
The run was scenic—5km along the Danube, then two 2.5km loops to the finish. I passed about four or five men in the first couple of kms but I had a group of two or three guys breathing down my neck nearly the whole way. I had an American pass me at around the 6km mark. He was moving fast and I chose not to try to go along with him (I wonder what would have happened if I did. Would I have blown up? That probably wasn’t the place to try). My foot was causing me some real problems by this point. I let out a few (but not too loud) grunts of agony.
Near the 7.5km mark an Australian in my AG came up beside me and started pushing the pace. I decided to stick with him while some of the other guys who had been tracking me through the run couldn’t quite respond. I still fell back a bit though—about four seconds. As we crossed the bridge, going into our final loop before the finish a woman screamed to him that he was in third place and to keep pushing. I was surprised that I had moved up so much, so I treated that info. with some suspicion. Either way, I had settled in to a faster pace thanks to the Aussie and dug deep to find something of a second wind. I knew I could push the pace more.
As we headed up the cobblestones to the church, I hit it, closed the gap, and passed him. At the turnaround, I prepared myself for a world of pain in anticipation that the Aussie friend wouldn’t let me hold the lead to the finish without a fight. I kept pushing it and put more and more distance between him and I even as he and others picked things up in response.
I kept working hard all the way to the finishing chute, leaving him without a hope in catching me. Only once I finished did I realize that he had another 2.5km lap to do. Bjorn, the fourth place finisher from South Africa, was obviously happy about this development.
As I wandered the finishing area, people told me that they thought I placed third. Unbelievable. Nevertheless, I knew I had a great race and left it all on the course. My left arch was very bloody when I removed my shoe, but I felt great.
While I consider my most important race of the year Canadian National Championships, where I raced as an elite, I nevertheless proud of how I raced and placed at Worlds. Noa, my coach, and I had a number of goals for this race, all of which I met. Thanks Noa!
I feel that I have had an upward trajectory throughout each race this season; I improved with each race. Digging deeper. Moving faster. I told more than one person that I don’t want to stop racing this season. That said, I’ve ended the 2010 season on a high note, which bodes extremely well for 2011.
I’ll likely add a few more stories and reflections from Budapest over the next few days. As to my triathlon goals, I won’t detail them much, but suffice it to say that I don’t plan on racing as an age-grouper for the next several years.
Busy day today in Budapest. Three workouts, including scoping out the bike course with age groupers of various, and frequently dubious, cycling skills and manners. Near death and a few swear words were followed by a chilly swim in a bay of the Danube (water temp was 16 Celsius), then a run. Bike back to the hotel. My roommate arrived today. Things are going to get cozy in our tiny room, which has two single beds pushed together to fit our bikes, bike boxes, luggage, etc.
There were more team events today so I packed my outfit/costume/uniform and prepared for photos. Canada’s uniforms (bike jersey, track pants, jacket) are a strange combo of loud and earnest. Mexico’s get-up (hot pink) is certainly louder than Canada’s yet their gear works for me because it is playful and lighthearted. I will post photos when i can. The Canada kit is a little too serious for my taste with the maple leaf pattern punctuated by a large maple leaf blazoned on the chest. I guess we are just really happy to attend to the party— the “pasta party,” that is (which was the supper offered at the opening ceremony)!
Skipped the “pasta party” (don’t usually do gluten overload) and walked back into town. Walking over the Danube in approaching-dusk—spectacular. That the highest point in Budapest sites a statue holding a massive laurel leaf raised above its head bodes well too. Beautiful in the light. Do I believe in omens? Only if they serve me, as this one indeed does.
As I walked the streets in the slow darkening, I tried to summarize the city in an image or metaphor. None came. I suspect one never will. I can’t rave lovesongs about Budapest but I feel a connection to it. Perhaps the combo of decay and progress resonates with me. I feel fortunate to be here.
Eventually, I found myself in a more familiar area of the city centre. Searching streets for a resturaunt that would offer me a big salad and little second hand smoke, I found my way into Port H. Clean lines on the sign, sans serif modern font, strange art welcoming me down stairs into a bomb shelter like area—perfect. White walls. A cartoon maze bathroom. Low music and great service. Immaculate presentation. Food so good that it demands a second visit. I overtipped when I came time to pay. Truly that good.
I started with a salad that was so good it demands description. Here is what the menu said: “Goat’s cheese fried in cashew with rocket and caramelized vegetables.”
Eat something with “rocket” in it before a race? You betcha!
Sitting in Port H I was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of dreaming these present moments some years previous. Not simply of that meal but of the entire walk back over the river, omens included. I have dreamt of this moment, particularly the strange loneliness I feel experiencing this place without Laura. I remember the buildings and the sense of being estranged due to physical, not emotional, distance. Certain I have had a premonition of this evening both upsets and calms me. I cannot explain it otherways.
Race in a few days. Who am I racing? Versions of myself? Other Canadians or nations? Time? Either way, I feel an quiet excitement in the pit of my stomach. It puts a smile on my face.
Last year, when I raced as an age-grouper, I qualified for the ITU Age Group Triathlon World Championship in Budapest, Hungary. Racing as an elite at the 2010 Canadian Nationals took a lot of my mental focus for the past few months. Budapest seemed like a pending to-do item on the horizon. Now, I’m less than a week from heading overseas and less than two weeks from racing. It feels surreal.
I recently had a great chat with a few of the NTC guys who encouraged me to prepare for a very competitive race. I am really happy with my effort and Canadian ranking from Kelowna, but that race taught me a new level of suffering. Perfect. Correspondently, my recovery after the race was longer and slower than any other race of this season. It took over a week for me to return to normal and start delivering proper times and efforts in my training sessions! I am preparing for this race and I will be ready to excel on Sept. 12th.
After, I turn around and come back home immediately to jump back into grad school. Sadly, this Euro trip won’t be a vacation.