John's tri: Valpo 7/11/2009

The story of John's triathlon begins with our annual trip to NW Indiana to celebrate James' birthday with family followed by a week for James at camp Grandma/pa. We couldn't have it on the week of James' actual birthday because it was so close to when he'd start school, so when picking an earlier time to schedule it, we saw a friend of ours was training for the Valpo triathlon. I told her that if we were in town that weekend, we'd go cheer her on. Turned out, that would be a fine weekend to get up to Indiana and have the party, since it was also my mom's birthday that weekend. I asked John if he'd like to sign up for the triathlon, too, noting he'd only have a few weeks to train for swimming and biking. I asked him again another week later, and he said "go ahead, and sign me up."

John rearranged his workouts to train for the triathlon, jumping in the pool after James was getting ready for bed. He took his bike out from the bike trainer in the basement and hit the pavement. On his first Saturday morning ride, he went out to ride in our neighborhood, but found the hills tiresome, so he headed west out of our subdivision, which he isn't as familiar with as the east. The first thing that shook him was the new right-turn-lane pylons at Haynes Bridge Rd, which he almost hit. After staying upright after those, he maintained his west-ward path. He dodged debris from a fender bender, and re-threaded his chain after downshifting too far while on an uphill. He turned to come back home when he reached Wooten Rd.

Triathlon weekend, and we're headed to Indiana! We'd learned, unfortunately, that our friend, Sarah, had stopped training because she was preparing to move to Philadelphia. We asked her to meet us at packet pickup anyhow, so we could hang out a little and try to convince her to participate since she'd already paid, which ended up not working.

She suggested we go check out the transition area then go for a drive following the bike course. Driving the course is not always a possibility, but the country roads of Valpo were the scheduled race path. It is such a good idea to go out and check out the course, looking for hills or nasty turns! Plus, a good venue for a catching-up-with-old-friends conversation.

The next morning, John woke up to thunderstorms in the morning. I asked him if he was still going to go, considering the possibility they'd just cancel it. He figured the race would still be on since start time was over three hours away and that would be enough time for a storm to blow over.

James and I got ready to meet John up at the race about an hour later, and we met him down at the lake shore. He was holding his red swim cap and wearing his tri shorts, as were most people at the spandex fest that is triathlon.

Soon enough, the race was starting and he was swimming out and back in George Roger's Lakewood Park lake. From the sidelines, I worried when I didn't see him exit the water with the first and middle finishers. When he did come out, he gave a wave to us, and ran up the hill to transition. We followed him up, staying behind the orange lines, and asked how it went. He said it was cold, and when his face hit the water his instinct was to inhale, so he swam with his head up for several strokes. His fingers and toes also began to hurt and go numb from the coldness of the water. We never expected a small lake like that to still be cold in mid-July.

He was off again soon, starting the bike leg. James and I waved goodbye and waited. Expecting to see him again in about 40 minutes, we played in the park for a little bit and took a couple pictures.

The bike and run were uneventful for John: no lost chains, no cramps. He met us again at the finish line, all smiles, and I gave him a big hug, not caring at all how sweaty he was. He said he was glad I signed him up for this race because it was a lot of fun, and he was definitely going to sign up again next year... and so is our friend, Sarah, and everyone else we convince to sign up.




coach James says get 1st place!





after John left transition (his stuff is on the far end)

on the playground

finishing the bike

James waiting

nearing the finish

high 5!

I'd look at me funny...

Imagine you're at the neighborhood pool, and someone comes in with their bike, helmet and all, and then proceeds to take off shoes and socks, etc, to jump in the pool with their shorts on! And these aren't swim shorts, they're those nasty spandex ones that had, we thought, taught lessons back in the eighties about how ridiculous people look in them. In addition, the pool of choice for this weirdo is not 25 meters long and has no lanes to speak of. "No lanes and not enough distance?" the weirdo says to herself, "no problem; I'll swim circles around the perimeter of the pool!" After 20 minutes, give or take, she climbs out of the pool, puts on her socks and shoes, pulls her goggles down around her neck, dons some bike gloves and a helmet and she's pedaling away, dripping wet! If this weren't a real story starring me, I know I'd look at that person funny. Take comfort knowing it isn't you while I rethink my choice in training venues.

The Callaway Sprint Triathlon

6/21/09 Pine Mountain, GA. After months of preparation, race day is here! I got my packet and my nerve, however shaky. I talk to people while setting up and look around getting any tips just from watching others. I forgot a towel to wipe the sand and dry my feet - darn, first mistake. I set my bike so the front tire faces me where I'll be grabbing the bike from the rack, I count the number of rack supports back my bike is from the swim exit, 6, and hang my bag from the rack to mark my spot for returning from the bike. I set my shoes out and helmet and gloves where they'll be easy to grab. I already pumped my tires, but the person next to me is being asked to lend their pump to others who've forgotten theirs. The two women next to me in the rack are mother and daughter and are discussing wearing or not wearing the bike shorts during the swim, the other daughter is there for support and not racing.

When I've convinced myself I'm ready at the transition area, I head out to take a quick look at the finish line. It's a giant, inflatable arch with a rubber mat under it. Nothing glamorous, except for the significance of it. As I stand there, another lady comes to talk to me. She tells me she's done this a few times before, and I ask her about positioning yourself in the water. She says the people will tend to stay towards the shallower end, since there's so many beginners, but she doesn't like it there. The swimmers ahead of you will have torn up the seaweed and muck, making it a nasty swim. She goes on to tell me of her accomplishments in marathon and surviving hurricane Katrina, and the connection between the two events.

We walk towards the start area for the mandatory pre-race announcements. They warn us of the turn that we'll need to slow down for, they tell us about the aid station only being available on the run, and tell us the order of the wave starts. They ask how many people are first timers, and over 75% (guessing) are first timers. They ask the veterans to play nicely and not grab the first timers' feet during the swim. Gee, thanks.

Swim time, last-minute "good-luck" wishes being said, and the horn goes off. I know that if I am not the most resolved swimmer, and if I get into a patch of people or run into someone, I will possibly stop to look around, so I let others get a start on me. I do end up running into people, and I do take advantage of the shallow water to take a rest. I also spot my family along the shoreline looking for me, but they didn't spot me until the swim exit. I'd read that the best method for nearing the shore in a swim is to swim until you can't swim anymore since you can't walk faster than you can swim, so I stay in when others are walking out of the water. As I exit, I am out of breath and thankful that my arms are not needed in the bike, except to hold onto the bars and shift, or in the run.

In transition, I "borrowed" my neighbors towel to dry my feet to get my bike shoes on. They'd already been through transition, as evidenced by their bikes being gone. Thanks, neighbor! I set out on the bike, clipping into my pedals while nervous about my time so far or the possibility of running into others because I'm paying attention to my feet slows me down, but soon enough, I feel like I'm flying. I couldn't tell you how many times I shouted "on your left" while passing. Or how many times I exchanged that announcement with one of the other bikers, who later encouraged me to keep going because I'd slowed to take some water. I didn't see her after that.

After what only ended up being about an 8.5-mile bike, not 10, it was time to dismount and head to transition again. This time to the run, shoes switched, helmet and gloves off, running brace on, grabbed a banana and a douse of water onto my head, and I'm off. I carry the banana with me, taking a bite here and there. I later tossed half of it on the side of the path since I don't need the energy and am tired of holding it. The run is the least fun of the events, not cool enough from the water on the swim nor the presence of the wind on the bike portion. This is where the participants', rather, athletes' only sounds are of their shoes hitting pavement over and over again. I start singing in my head; it's a song I've changed the lyrics to fit the triathlon experience. The song is one of James' kids' songs, but I don't remember now what it was. I hear from the volunteers that the finish is very near, plus I hear the music playing from the pavilion where all of the finishers are hanging out, so I start to stick to only running, no more walk breaks until I finish. (Yeah, I did the walk/run thing, I'm not an elite athlete by any stretch).

Crossing the finish line feels great, and I tell my husband how much I loved the bike part over the other 2, and how much I need to go use the facilities. I think I've had to pee since the bike started. Afterward, we grab our post-race snacks and clear out my stuff from transition.

One triathlon down, and convinced I need to work more on my swim for any next attempts.


start of swim

Karen's head is sticking out of the water at end of swim

running to T1

dismounting the bike for T2


nearing finish

Karen's turn; training

Before John had signed up for his triathlon, we had talked about me doing a triathlon first, since he'd done a half marathon first, which I've yet to undertake. Luckily (?), John's attempt turned out to be a du, so I signed up for a "beginner's beginner" race. One that says is good if you're not a good swimmer because it's in 4-5' water for the 400m swim; good enough to stop and take a breather. The race is advertised to be a 400m swim, 10-mile bike, and 2-mile run, so on my first day to try doing a "brick," two of the three events back-to-back in training, I went to the bike trail. Having a handy bike computer, I checked out the landmark of 1 mile from the parking lot, making an even 2 mile run. I started my stopwatch and biked 9 miles, not a racing pace, but a baseline exertion. Having finished the bike in about 45 minutes, I returned my bike to the car, stripped off my gloves, helmet, and shoes, then put on my knee brace and running shoes, grabbed a banana and a gulp of water, I headed out. I set the banana peel on a tree stump near the head of the trail to pick up when I had finished, and started my short run. I didn't know if, having exerted not too much on the bike, I should run faster, or reserve myself to stave off any injury. No need for two knee braces, I chose to take it safely, since I am not in races to win, but to finish.

I felt good knowing I could complete a brick at those distances AND feel good doing it; maybe the triathlon won't be difficult after all.

John's triathlon turned duathlon

John signed up for the Kansas City Corporate Challenge triathlon, slated for 6/8/08, when he decided to cross train because of a running injury. He found a wetsuit on Craigslist being sold by a guy, who was retiring from the sport and also happened to be a former high school swim coach. He met with John a few times to teach him some techniques and gave him a video on swimming technique to watch. John eagerly swam laps at the 24-hour fitness pool in Overland Park, KS, improving his stroke count and quality of his swim. He then found a bike on Craigslist after realizing, to his displeasure, the one he bought from Chesterton Bike Station did not fit him well enough; it was too big. The majority of his training was swimming and biking, and he banked on just hobbling his way through the run.

The weather leading up to the race was full of rain, compromising the water quality, so they canceled the swim portion of the triathlon and turned it into a duathlon: Run, Bike, Run. Twice as many runs as John was planning to hobble through!

In the end, he did well, only lost his chain once on the bike on one of the uphills, and ran across the finish line, upright and smiling.


Rolling hills




nearing the finish




smiles!