So yeah. My swim was below average: 49:30. I know I can go faster. T1: 2:46. Not too shabby. But the good news is I expended almost no real effort getting to that point based upon my average heartrate. And unlike the swimmer kids, I have the advantage in T1: As soon as the swim is over I know I am going to finish. I know that Carmen Tequilo, she is waiting. Carmen longs to ride. And I, . . . I yearn to once again embrace and caress her while I slide myself into . . . .
Wait. What were we talking about?
THE GOOD
Because my buddy
Bolder is wandering around his pad murmuring, "homage," I will stick with Bolder's patented format.
My goal in this outing was to do a well-paced ride that would allow me to run even splits without walking. I did this, notwithstanding some very challenging conditions. The bike split was only 3:21:50, not flashy, but I only needed an average heartrate of 130 to get that done. That's almost like napping,
Tac Boy. I was essentially the same bike split as Buffalo Springs at my peak last year, but this time instead of being cooked where I could not run, I was fresh off the bike. I love it when a plan comes together.
THE BAD
About 28 miles of the two loop course were ridden into the teeth of a 20+ mph coastal wind. This was very very hard, and likely would have cooked me in the past, but thanks in part to the
Simply Stu podcast on mental training, I kept my head, hunkered down, and got it done without being impatient, and staying focused in the moment. .
THE UGLY
I took the headwind straight in the face. Others? Not so much.
Up to this point, I did not quite understand all the hubub about drafting, but there is nothing like pulling yourself into a wind that threatenes to knock you off your bike to make you resent those who don't.
I got passed on the bike by some faster, stronger cyclists. I also got passed by some cheaters who were blatently sucking wheels and moving in packs, gaining at least a 20% advantage in the process. I'm not talking about drifting in and out of a 3 bike length draft zone. I'm talking about moving in a pack of six riders, two abreast, two feet from back wheel to front wheel, for miles at a time. If I had cut the course by 20%, I would be disqualified for cheating. These people should have been disqualified as well.
So, I asked myself the question: WWBD? No, not "what would
Benny do?" "
By the Book Ben," Ironman veteran, would have issued a gentlemanly reminder to his fellow competitors. I was thinking more along the lines of "what would
Bolder do?"
"NICE PACELINE, F*CKING CHEATERS!"
Did I say that out loud? I can neither confirm nor deny.
If I did, no one heard me. The howling wind was too loud.
THE REALLY REALLY GOOD
The bike course was two 28 mile out and backs. I felt even stronger on the second trip. All this base training must be working. I had plenty in the tank so I started gobbling up the riders in front of me, even while clawing into the wind. I looked at people's ages, marked on their calves, as I passed, and thought to myself, "Dude, you're 27!!! You just got dropped by a 40 year old married guy!"
Of course, at one point a woman with "Air Force Cycling" on the back of her . . . of her . . . her
cycling kit passed me. But I did not mind so much. Riding behind her draft zone made me feel . . . patriotic.
I'm a red blooded American man, that way.
Hey, not
that kind of patriotic, and anyway, I passed her back after awhile, gave her the "Go Air Force!" got a big smile in return, and dropped her permanently. (Of course, there was the Navy tri-team guy who smoked me like I was a banana republic).
The best was at the turn for home, 20 mph wind at my back, I knew that I needed to hold nothing back. I hit 27 mph on the flats and was able to gain on and gobble up riders I saw two and three miles down the road. As I roared past, I'd give out a "Go Team" for the TNT riders or "Houston Racing!" to a couple of my tri-club team mates.
Sustained speeds of 27 miles per hour!!!
As a grownup, have you ever "WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO-ed" in broad daylight while riding a bike?
I have. It was like being nine again. Let's go play in the tree fort.
Wait. What were we talking about?
THE GOOD
Because my buddy Bolder is wandering around his pad murmuring, "homage," I will stick with Bolder's patented format.
My goal in this outing was to do a well-paced ride that would allow me to run even splits without walking. I did this, notwithstanding some very challenging conditions. The bike split was only 3:21:50, not flashy, but I only needed an average heartrate of 130 to get that done. That's almost like napping, Tac Boy. I was essentially the same bike split as Buffalo Springs at my peak last year, but this time instead of being cooked where I could not run, I was fresh off the bike. I love it when a plan comes together.
THE BAD
About 28 miles of the two loop course were ridden into the teeth of a 20+ mph coastal wind. This was very very hard, and likely would have cooked me in the past, but thanks in part to the Simply Stu podcast on mental training, I kept my head, hunkered down, and got it done without being impatient, and staying focused in the moment. .
THE UGLY
I took the headwind straight in the face. Others? Not so much.
Up to this point, I did not quite understand all the hubub about drafting, but there is nothing like pulling yourself into a wind that threatenes to knock you off your bike to make you resent those who don't.
I got passed on the bike by some faster, stronger cyclists. I also got passed by some cheaters who were blatently sucking wheels and moving in packs, gaining at least a 20% advantage in the process. I'm not talking about drifting in and out of a 3 bike length draft zone. I'm talking about moving in a pack of six riders, two abreast, two feet from back wheel to front wheel, for miles at a time. If I had cut the course by 20%, I would be disqualified for cheating. These people should have been disqualified as well.
So, I asked myself the question: WWBD? No, not "what would Benny do?" " By the Book Ben," Ironman veteran, would have issued a gentlemanly reminder to his fellow competitors. I was thinking more along the lines of "what would Bolder do?"
"NICE PACELINE, F*CKING CHEATERS!"
Did I say that out loud? I can neither confirm nor deny.
If I did, no one heard me. The howling wind was too loud.
THE REALLY REALLY GOOD
The bike course was two 28 mile out and backs. I felt even stronger on the second trip. All this base training must be working. I had plenty in the tank so I started gobbling up the riders in front of me, even while clawing into the wind. I looked at people's ages, marked on their calves, as I passed, and thought to myself, "Dude, you're 27!!! You just got dropped by a 40 year old married guy!"
Of course, at one point a woman with "Air Force Cycling" on the back of her . . . of her . . . her cycling kit passed me. But I did not mind so much. Riding behind her draft zone made me feel . . . patriotic.
I'm a red blooded American man, that way.
Hey, not that kind of patriotic, and anyway, I passed her back after awhile, gave her the "Go Air Force!" got a big smile in return, and dropped her permanently. (Of course, there was the Navy tri-team guy who smoked me like I was a banana republic).
The best was at the turn for home, 20 mph wind at my back, I knew that I needed to hold nothing back. I hit 27 mph on the flats and was able to gain on and gobble up riders I saw two and three miles down the road. As I roared past, I'd give out a "Go Team" for the TNT riders or "Houston Racing!" to a couple of my tri-club team mates.
Sustained speeds of 27 miles per hour!!!
As a grownup, have you ever "WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO-ed" in broad daylight while riding a bike?
I have. It was like being nine again. Let's go play in the tree fort.