Albany Sprint Tri

I only have one word to describe this experience. Snow. What's that Murphy says in his law? If it can happen it will. Oh yeah. It snowed on Sunday in Central Oregon.

I woke up the morning of the sprint tri not really knowing what to expect. But when I looked out my window the sky looked promising. The sun was shining in from the East and the roads looked as if they would dry in no time. Even the temp wasn't awful for 6:45 am in the Pacific NW...35. So, I went to my computer to see if they had changed the forecast for that day. Nope, the Weather Channel still insisted that there was a 100% chance of light snow. And sure enough, while I was sitting there, tiny little flakes started to form out the window, becoming bigger and bigger by the second. By the time I put my bike on my car for the 10 mile drive to Albany, I was wiping the snow off my roof rack to get to the lock.

At the race, nervous triathletes were milling around the transition, bundled up to the gills, hemming and hawing about their foiled transitions, whether they should suggest to the race directors that the bike be canceled, etc. My feeling....everybody has to race in the same conditions. And my other favorite, "It's all good". I calmly set my running shoes in a plastic bag by my bike and added an extra pair of socks. I pulled out tights, long-sleeved top, jersey, neoprene toe covers, bike shoes, winter gloves, water-proof jacket, hat, bike helmet, and bike shoes and set these up in the bleachers of the swim pool ....indoors. My plan was to set a personal record for the slowest transition (a feat, considering it stands at 6:31 for T2).

The 750 yd swim was uneventful except for the fact that I accurately predicted my time and my two lane mates vastly overestimated so that I lapped both of them twice and almost caught one for a third go-around. When it came time for transition, I was able to go through various body contortions to get my spandex on a wet body. I ran out to the bike in my cleats and did some semblance of a flying mount. I rode the first 4 or so miles of the 17 mile back through slushy roads. At some point, I no longer felt my feet, hands, or face. The only people I saw on the bike course were the frozen and lonely volunteers at each of the five corners. Other than that, the only other person I saw out on the bike course had been way ahead of me half way through the race, until he went straight through a left turn and then I could have been the only biker out on the roads that morning.

T2 was pretty interesting. Couldn't feel my hands to get my shoes on. Couldn't feel my feet to know if my shoes were on. And had trouble finding my shoes because everyone had stashed their shoes in a white plastic bag at their transition! But once I found them, I flew through the run course. My old mantra "the faster you run, the faster your done" came back to me and all I could envision was my heated car and the very large hot chocolate I was going to drink when I got home.

But I finished my first tri in 8 months. And in less than two weeks I am hoping for an experience so night and day from this one that the only consistancy will be the word triathlon. Wildflower Half-iron Triathlon, here I come!