Trilogy #1

OK, got to make this one quick.

The Trilogy series is a great one, as I've already mentioned sixteen times, because it is the largest sprint series in South Florida. It's a fast course on our stomping grounds and a great opportunity to cut loose and go all out without trashing yourself for days.

Pre-race was uneventful beyond a little misunderstanding (or should I say, "misinterpretation" on my part) with race numbers on the bike. The USAT rules say the race number must not be altered in any way. I figured this meant the ACTUAL RACE NUMBER and not the entire sheet of paper they print the thing on. Seriously, you could put these things on an airliner and help it land.

I noticed at the M.I.T. several people cut the numbers down so they could stick them on their downtubes. At the Gator Half-Iron, the RD gave out bike numbers similar to the helmet stickers. At the time, I let him know how happy I was about not having to install an air brake and he hit it right on saying, "People spend ungodly amounts of money to be as aerodynamic as possible and then they have to put these flapping race numbers on the bike. Doesn't make sense." Anyway, I got all righteous and decided to cut my race number down to fit on my downtube. According to USAT, this is a no-no. Fortunately, I pleaded stupidity with the official in transition and he let me off with a warning. A 2-minute penalty for something as moronic as this, you may notice further on in this RR, would change the outcome somewhat.

So, other than that, everything was smooth. Got a great rack space (number 13, hmm) and warmed up feeling pretty good. Not super awesome with speed and power rushing through my veins, but pretty good.

Teammate, training partner, and fellow kamikaze triathlete Ryan Shiling was in my wave and I asked him half-jokingly if he wouldn't mind being my fullback. Our wave was one of the largest and the start was the typical madness. Somehow, I managed to stay on Ryan's feet (dude can swim) all the way. We came out of the water and I was feeling good - certainly the best I've felt after a sprint swim.

MMmmmm, I love the taste of sulfur in the morning (Ryan leading the way):


New Elite uni's:

Photos by Courtney Rutter (thanks Court)

Swim 0:05:36 (2nd Age Group, 34th Overall)

Transition was HUGE this year, but the prime real estate was key. My wave went third, so there were mass amounts of people on the bike course with such a short swim. My strategy was to, uh, ride my ass off. So I did. Felt pretty solid on the bike until descending the first bridge. I switched my cranks out earlier in the week and couldn't shift into the big ring after the first climb. Definitely lost a bit of speed, but the bike cooperated on the second descent. Looking back, riding the entire second-half of the bike in the small ring would not be fun.



Back into transition, they coned off the entrance tightly into single-file so it was borderline maddening getting in. I felt like an overly-anxious five year old at Disney. Dammit.

Bike data:

(You can see where I spun out in the small ring right in the middle of the graph...)

Bike 0:25:09 (1st Age Group, 17th Overall)

Helmet off, running shoes on, I was ready for the race to begin. That's how I like to feel. Hang on for the swim, steady on the bike, go all-out on the run. Seems like a great plan. It's worked in the past. I've done pretty well with this type of strategy.

Here's a transcript of the actual conversation my body had coming out of T2:

Brain: "Alllllright! We're having a great race! 5km to glory! All stations check in!"

Heart: "We're operating at near-capacity, and all systems are go."

Lungs: "Check. Lungs are a go."

Quads: "We've got small traces of lactic build-up, but nothing we haven't seen before. We'll continue to monitor. We are a go."

Hamstrings: "Feeling great, mission control. We are a go for launch."

Calves: *static*

Brain: "Calves. Brain. Check in, over."

Calves: *crickets*

Brain: "Calves. Brain. What is your status. Over."

And so on.

It took about a mile or so of coercing both calf muscles not to seize up while trying to get into my 5k pace. It seems there was a communication issue because everytime I picked it up one would threaten with a cramp. Fortunately, they finally loosened up and I hit it for miles 2&3. Without a watch, I had no idea what my mile splits were, but going from damage control on mile one to all-out-holy-shit-almost-there on mile two wasn't in the original plan.

Hitting the brakes after the finish:


Run 0:20:02 (1st Age Group, 28th Overall)

Race 0:52:34 (1st Age Group, 14th Overall)

I was disappointed with the run time. I think I'm capable of a sub-19 right now with that kind of bike split, but that's how it goes. I did finish strong and managed to take my age group. Ryan came in right behind me despite his recent half-iron race in Orlando - a very strong showing for the Elite Cycling & Fitness 25-29 age groupers. Elliot Mason, Elite's resident pro, took 5th overall with a great bike and his usual jaw-dropping run.

KC and I decided that 18-miles was overkill since I haven't had much run volume lately. I didn't realize it until the other day, but my longest run since Sarasota was somewhere around 8-9 miles. So we settled for a steady 6-miler right after the race. I'm glad we ammended because it was freaking hot.

As always, the race was a lot of fun. There were a LOT of people on the course. Close to 750, I think? Key Biscayne is such a unique place in Miami and essentially caters to triathletes. What a wonderful place for a wonderful sport.