From XL to XTERRA

After taking part in a couple of lunchtime tank swims with members of the Northern Marianas Triathlon Federation, I felt that I could do a decent job in the biggest challenge to date—the MTEC Aquathon.

Since taking part in the first Enticer Triathlon in the first week of November, our training has gradually increased in both distance and intensity. John and I have taken our road show further and for more time in the last month than we had expected at the outset of our journey.

The improvements that we’ve made in the water may be our biggest accomplishment thus far. When we had our inaugural date at the Kan Pacific Swimming Pool with Rachel Bandelin on Day 1, John and found ourselves out of breath after the first 50 meters.

The time invested in our aquatic stock has definitely been yielding dividends, and we are reaping the rewards of our dedication to saturation.

No matter how hard you train, there’s just no accounting for the way in which your body and mind reacts on the day of a race.

Less than a week before the first Enticer Triathlon, I was sucking wind after traversing one length of the pool, and regardless of how many hours I logged in the water, I took a break after every lap.

Yet when faced with a timed 200-meter swim in competition, I found myself in a whole other place. Rather than looking for the cardiovascular sanctuary at either end of the pool, I was motivated by the competition at hand to not only finish, but to hurry onto the transition point and continue on the bike.

There was much of the same during the last Saturday’s MTEC Tank-to-Tank Aquathon, when neither John nor I stopped along he 5-kilometer run course that followed the 1,000m ocean swim.

One of my allies in the war on training sent me an email with a subject line that read “To a future adrenaline junkie.” After a couple of events, I now understand what Laura Kustaborder meant.

The rush inspired by competition wasn’t the only thing that I picked up on during last week’s race. It’s strange, but when I was standing on the beach next to AJ’s Restaurant with all of the other racers, I was thinking more about the start of the event than everyone around me.

After the horn sounded, I realized that the swimming was going to be a lot more difficult that day than all of the early morning sessions in Marpi combined.

There aren’t 50 people jockeying for position in my lane when I’m swimming in the pool, but in the aquathon I found myself surrounded by more flailing limbs than water, as I began to make my way toward the first of the semi-submerged sentinels of the Saipan Lagoon.

Hey, I’m getting this swimming thing down now, but what’s up with other people kicking me in the chops? And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the pack was churning up more sand from the bottom than Amish people do butter.

Swimming amidst a school of racers left me without more than a foot of visability. I had to hope that the studs in the front had a good sense of direction, because I had no clue as to where I was going.

None of this was helping me, as I had just successfully gotten used to breathing out of both sides of my stroke, and I still needed to concentrate along the way to make sure that I am keeping my “freestyle machine” in rhythm.

Well, both of us gutted it out, and I learned another thing in the process: While the tri-crowd will go out of their way to help you during your training, you’re on your own during the race.

Learning to know and push my personal limits is a major part of the training process, but dealing with the congestion of the course is something that I had never even slightly considered.

The low tide certainly helped all of the aquatic amateurs (like us) along the way, but it may not have represented our true ability in the sea. I finished way better than I imagined—like about 30 minutes better.

John was equally pleased with his results in the aquathon, and he expressed how “excellent” it was that volunteers lined the run course to offer racers some much needed encouragement and fluid. The big guy was also pleased with the shallow water in the lagoon, as he noted in his training diary:

“It was my first duathlon, and it went pretty well. The fact that I could walk (and almost had to walk because of the low tide) the swimming leg of the race gave me a distinct advantage, since my swimming skills are still a work in progress.

“I finished the (walk/swim) in a great time, but definitely could improve on my 45-minute 5K run. I need to try and cut some chunks out of that time, but I’m overlooking what to me is painfully obvious—before this race, I’ve never done a 5K run without stopping.

“I’m pretty happy because I put in as good of an effort as I could, and I pushed myself harder than I ever have. I have more confidence that I will be able to take the training to the next level, but first I have to deal with my first triathlon this weekend.”

We’ve still got a long way to go, but we’ll continue reaching for the next rung on our tri-ladder at 6:30am tomorrow morning, when we tackle the second event of the Enticer Tirathlon series at Pau Pau Beach.

Every week out training for the XTERRA Saipan Championship seems to task us with something a little more daunting than before, and without a doubt, this will be our greatest challenge to date. Wish us luck—and a speedy recovery.