05 Aug 2019
Race Date: Sunday, August 4, 2019 – 8:30am
I strolled up to the race venue at beautiful Island Lake outside of Duluth with a bit more than an hour before race time. It was nervewracking to feel late! I felt confident in my abilities to win this race for the 8th time and just wanted to check each item off the list before race start.
Bib pickup, body marking, timing chip pickup. Rack my bike, unload all my stuff, and start putting it together. I took my bike for a spin once my backpack was unloaded, and it was working great. Then I got my shoes on to go for a little spin. I was feeling good and ready to rip my 9th Brewhouse Triathlon sprint course.
Despite feeling super late, I got back to my transition zone area and starting putting on my wetsuit with plenty of time to spare. Nice. I had run through my transition sequences several times in my head and felt good. Caffeine gummies were on my bike seat, water all set… I couldn’t think of anything else so headed down to the water to get acclimated and get the arms warmed up.
I chatted with some familiar faces, found my support crew Emily on top, and took a spin around the swimming area to warm up. All systems go. Before long, the crowd assembled, the PA announcer started beckoning us. The race director Matt Evans told us where to go, big triangle buoys, turn right. Then, the 10 second countdown, GO! And we were off. It was a washing machine start, as always, and I doggy paddled in an attempt to find my slot to swim in. The field spread thin before too long and I was able to swim like normal.
This was my second swim of the year, but I felt comfortable. I was only breathing on one side and kind of pinning to the left. There were swimmers to my right and when I tried to breathe on both sides, a faster method but less oxygen availability, I got some choppy waves in my face. Back to the one side. When I’d sight that first buoy, it’s off to the right. Swimming straight was the battle until the first turn. But I made it to the first buoy seemingly in the second pack of swimmers. There were a few ahead of me and I could see a bigger group further up. I felt good making the turn, right where I expected and wanted to be. The second buoy was close, I made that turn and got my bearings for the home stretch. The field was spread out after the two turns and I wondered if I left some of the others behind, giving me a little surge of confidence. Let’s go!! I fluttered my back legs extra hard in an attempt to get some forward propulsion, and tried to lock in on my bilateral breathing method. I was focusing on putting my head down and practicing good form. When I put my head up to sight, again the swim exit buoy was way to my right and thus I was pinning left. Gah. Oh well, I cranked it in, and exited the water with two other swimmers.
Running into transition, I almost felt like I was going to faint. I don’t know why running into T1 is always such a grind… catching my breath after swimming is a major struggle. I was fumbling around with my wetsuit trying to put it in just the right place below my bike. I felt that my T1 was long. I saw a tall gentleman in a nice bike speeding out on the bike and figured that was who Ryan told me looked to be the main competition, just based on how he looked and his bike. So that’s my target.
Out of transition, I hastily hopped on my bike and pedaled a few strokes over top my shoes. I always have a slow time getting my bike shoes on. Careful, as not to unclip the shoe. Faster, the clock is ticking. I finally got all clicked in, and remembered the caffeine gummis on my seat. Crap! Were they still there? I stood up and touched my seat… no way. Oh well. Time to crank. I got up to speed and passed a few people right away. My legs felt slow and sore, like there was already lactic acid built up. I tried to crank anyways. Push push push I told myself. PUSH! I passed a few people but couldn’t see the lead bike. What can ya do besides put your head down and… yep… CRANK! PUSH!
Before the turn onto Emerson Road just before the turnaround, I saw a very tall gentleman on the bike coming the other way. First place. I figured it was a Canadian. He’d raced against me before and I somehow edged him every year but knew this would be a major challenge. What’s his name…
For the first time all day, I was very fearful of my winning streak of 7 wins in my last 7 starts crumbling. He was way ahead of me. I glanced at my watch and looked at the seconds, trying to figure out by how many minutes he was ahead. At the turnaround I passed last year’s female champion Bettina. I passed her quickly and tried to break away as fast as I could. With the left turn off of Emerson, I glanced back at my watch and knew that I was probably two minutes back at least. Whoosh, that’s a lot to make up. I didn’t feel like I was going fast and my legs still felt kind of sore and just drained. It’s mental, I told myself, and slid forward on my seat to get an aggressive angle on my bike, hoping to find more power somewhere. I saw another gal up front, by the looks, and was really impressed by her biking. Holy crap she is way up there! I was used to being behind the lead motorcycle and here I was in third place. I began to think about the run. I’d have to run really fast to stand a chance, and that’s after closing this bike split out in a very powerful way. I drank a sip of water and tried to capitalize on a downhill.
Across the Island Lake bridge and within sight of the transition area, I was gaining ground on the gal in front of me. I finally caught up to her within mere feet of the dismount line. I dismounted quicker than her and tried to sneak around to her right and onto a little bridge to the transition entrance. At that moment, she swung her leg around her bike and almost karate kicked me in the face. I apologized… poor form on my part to sneak up on her like that. Whoops. I wondered how fast she was on the run… And how far behind I was from the singular person ahead of me now. I sure didn’t see anyone up ahead.
As I sprinted through transition with my bike, I heard the announcer Jerry MacNeil telling the crowd how when I get my running legs on me, it’s my best leg. I hope you’re right, I said to myself. I fumbled again in T2, accidentally clipping my bib number on before putting on my shoes. Gah! I can do that while running! But my bib number belt was clipped, my shoes went on smoothly, and I put a caffeine gummi found on the ground in my mouth. Better late than never. Then I sprinted out the gate, onto the chase.
This was kind of fun, I thought, to be a supposedly fast runner on the chase in the running leg of this triathlon. The past years that I’ve won the Brewhouse Sprint, I’d led off of the bike, and so my mission then was to just hold everyone else off. And being a faster runner, that is somewhat easy to do. But I figured that I was down by several minutes. So if this guy is a halfway decent runner I’d need to run several minutes faster than him?? Knowing the run course has been kind of short, I did the math and figured I’d have to run a minute faster per mile. I looked at my watch, in a dead sprint, to see 6:06 in the pace field. That won’t cut it…
I thought of Jerry’s sentiment. I just gotta get my running legs under me. Push, Mike, push!! I focused on my rhythm, keeping a fast turnover. Nah, that’s not fast enough, just sprint. My labored breathing was OK. I liked to feel that, actually. Put it all out there. You don’t want to lose this race. What will it take? What do you have to give? It’s not worth it, you don’t have what it takes. It was a flurry of emotions and thoughts before the first mile, especially on the straightaway section where I saw nobody in sight. I asked a volunteer how far back I was. A good bit. That’s not encouraging. I pushed to the water station, knowing it’s a quick lollipop on gravel from there, then about a mile back home. I asked those volunteers where he was. They encouragingly said I’d see him in a minute. Like, an actual minute? But I smelled it… I could tell I was reeling him in. And if I didn’t see anyone before the lollipop I’d be in great shape. Well, right as I passed the lollipop, this very tall guy popped out. I barely got a glance at him, choosing instead to glance at my watch to try a calculation. I tried to run as hard as possible around the dirt circle, hoping to at least get him in my sights back on the road. Back to the lollipop intersection and I figured I was more than a minute behind. That’s a lot to make up in a bit more than a mile.
I still had the energy for a pursuit. I really laid it out there back on the road. I thought I saw someone ahead, but there were runners coming at me… it was too hard to tell. I figured this tall guy may falter on the relatively technical off-road half mile section of the run course, and I tried to hammer it. I couldn’t hammer, I just didn’t have the speed. My watch beeped my mile split and it was over 6:00. That just won’t cut it! So at that point, I dealt with the fact that I wasn’t going to win. But that sentiment quickly shifted as I looked over my shoulder. And that fearful sentiment quickly shifted as I saw nobody.
I couldn’t see anyone at the finish line. Tunnel vision. I was very disappointed crossing the line. The legacy is over. Well, how long could I not train for the race and expect to win? That is a joke! I am a joke for even trying all these years. The champion was at the finish and greeted me with a big handshake. He had a great race, and played it well with a monster bike split. I quickly departed the finish area and headed straight to the lake. I barely looked Emily in the eye and I think she understood my frustration and backed off. I took off my jersey and shoes and stomped down to the lake. I slumped into the water, putting my face in and floating on my belly. Gah.
I should have known that my fitness on the run, or lackthereof, would be an issue. I felt fit, but it really makes a difference when I can rip a fast open 5k or 5 mile run. Like under 17 minutes for a 5k. That run speed translates to the bike more than many may give it credit for, and obviously translates to the last leg, too. Good overall fitness, that I’ve derived from paddling and biking and hiking and some running, isn’t enough to actually compete. Legitimate running speed is enough. And that is what I was lacking. My time was good, 1:02 or so, but still slower than when I’m in good running shape where I know I can hit under 60 minutes on this course. Emily greeted me by the lake and tried to cheer me up. It worked, and I couldn’t really be too mad or angry or frustrated. The race actually went good. Maybe a few little flubs, but I think I left it all out there given my abilities at the time of the race start. The champion, Kris Nisula of Thunder Bay, came over to me as I sat at the bench with Em, and I could tell he was happy. I was happy for him! He put on a good race, knowing that he was going up against the defending champ and that I had a strong run. He told me he knew he had to hammer the swim and the bike, and the strategy worked out. Furthermore, he talked about other races he was training for and I knew from meeting him in the past that he was a pretty serious triathlete. He deserves to win, when I think I can just stroll up and compete against him. Kris was great to chat with–a very nice, tall gentleman.
In hindsight, the race was fun. How can you not have fun? Brewhouse Triathlon is a great event at a great venue. If anything, I’m more motivated to train and set the course record. That is my prerogative for 2020. I can’t wait until next year for my favorite race.
Pace: 1:45/100 yd
Shoes: Saucony Freedom
Bike: Specialized Transition
Wheels: Profile Design 78
Food: Water, one caffeine gummi
07 Aug 2016
Race Day: Saturday, August 7, 2016 – 8:30am
I went in to Brewhouse Tri with big expectations. I had the expectation to win. It’s easy to say you have no expectations, but this was not the case. It’s easy to say you have no expectations when there is no reason that you should have them, such as not swimming and signing up for a triathlon, which involves swimming. Or letting my tri bike literally get dusty from no use, when the race involves riding a tri bike. Nevertheless, I went out to Brewhouse with the goal to win. Time was irrelevant.
This was my sixth time racing the Brewhouse Sprint, and I was competing for my fifth win. The caveat was my severe lack of specific training. This seems to be a common theme lately, but seemed to play out OK with Voyageur just one week prior. I hadn’t swam a stroke or sat on my tri bike, for all intents and purposes, for nearly 11 months. I knew I had good run fitness, and I knew I had decent biking fitness from biking to work every day. Is 6 miles a day enough? I rarely push it… my commute is at a very leisurely pace. How far back on the swim will I be? I had some major questions on how the day would pan out.
The morning drive to beautiful Island Lake outside of Duluth confirmed my notions that the day would be ideal for a triathlon. I got to the transition area and saw plenty of familiar faces to who I had to explain being off the grid and spending my time hiking. It was good to be back schmoozing with the awesome triathlon community in Duluth.
The bike warmup was on point, and I didn’t spend too much time running. I had a pre-race Mountain Dew and was ready to rock. My transition area seemed so much more compact and easy than I remember. A testament to the backpacker ‘less is more’ mentality? Perhaps. I suited up in my wetsuit and did a few strokes. They felt fine, but even a minute was enough to feel the tension and soreness in my shoulders. Not good.
I found myself antsy for the race to begin. Before long, Matt Evans came out of nowhere to instruct us on what buoys to turn at and to come back to. In a flash, the goggles went on and the 10-second countdown began. “GO!” and the hectic start commenced. Nothing like a triathlon start… Hands, feet, faces, bodies everywhere.
I felt fine right away, but definitely noticed my lack of swim fitness. I was used to pulling away from people at the drop of a hat, er, swim cap, and now people were swimming away from me. I tried to get on someone’s feet, but it was only for a short while. The first buoy wasn’t too terribly far off, and I felt good rounding the first and second markers. My shoulders were burning and they felt like wet noodles dragging through the water, but I was halfway done and still swimming as strong as a non-training fool like me could go. I took it all the way in until my fingers scraped on the bottom of the lake floor.
I knew I had some ground to make up while I was in T2. Not to belittle my fellow athletes, but I was not used to being down off the swim. My transition was hasty, it took me a bit to get my shoes set, but then I took off hard on the bicycle.
The Brewhouse bike course is fast. I cranked right out of the gate and got up to speed quickly, passing a few people in the process. I was gaining on others quickly and passed them like they were stopped with a kickstand up. I peeked at my watch to get a reading of 30MPH, and I knew I was on the right track. I figured that I could hold a decent run pace regardless of how hard I push on the bike. At that moment, I knew to achieve my goal, I’d have to put it all on the line on the bike. And so I cranked away. Every person I passed, I looked ahead to hopefully catch the lead motorcycle. The legs were feeling fine, but I was breathing really heavily. No time to catch my breath, I thought. A few more people, and I saw the leaders near the one turn on the course. He was just a few minutes ahead of me, so I made the 180-degree turn and had my sights focused to that motorcycle like a track dog to the fake rabbit.
The next few people were slower to pass. It took a while to reel them in, and it was a slow pass. I was happy to get past my tri buddy Lee Brown, because I knew he’d be a contender. He’s had a few second-place finishes at the race and I knew he was hungry for a local win with his new tri bike. A minute later, I caught the leader, with time to pad until T2. I made an effort to put more time on my fellow competitors, and hopped off my bike in a hurry, sprinting for my running shoes.
The second transition was speedy, and I was off. I wondered how my legs would feel without doing a single brick workout on the year, and they felt like jelly. The feeling of running in a triathlon is pretty terrible. It’s like you have a parachute on, or ankle weights. You just can’t get that speedy pickup. I was breathing heavy out of the gate, and took a peek behind my shoulder to gauge how this guy was running. He was close. I figured I’d be able to pick up a little speed once my legs get used to the switch-up, but three miles isn’t much real estate. In that case, I tried to focus on my cadence.
By the turnaround, I couldn’t see anyone. By the time I had a clear view behind me, back on County Road 4, there was nobody in sight and I knew I had it. I picked up my pace for good measure, and just because I could, and my notions were confirmed as the athletes going the other way told me it was mine. They popped us into the woods, and I was cruising on by on a wooden bridge. Sweet. The last half mile was on a trail, and you could just smell the Northwoods pines. The sound of the crushed gravel underfoot made it a treat for the senses.
I held up my five fingers on the finishing chute, and brought it in a few seconds past an hour, far off of the course record. To my surprise, Lee Brown came waltzing in before I could bat an eye. I somehow held him off with a big bike, giving me five wins for this race. The Brewhouse Sprint Tri is a spectacular event.
Pace: 1:40/100 yd
Shoes: Mizuno Hitogami size 11
Bike: Specialized Transition
Wheels: Profile Design 78