From XL to XTERRA

Last weekend I had my introduction to the real world of triathlons, and if the past three and a half months had been a training dream, then the 6th Annual Tinian Turquoise Blue Triathlon was a rude awakening for me.

Quite simply, the event broke me, but it was just the slap in the chops that I needed. After sitting on the sidelines for the better part of the last five weeks with a banged up ankle, I had fallen out of the training loop. Add to that the fact that I became an eating machine in the six weeks after I kicked the cancer sticks, and you can get a pretty good picture why I was not at the top of my game.

The good news is that I am back on track to reach my goal, but I now know first hand the training traps that one can fall into. All griping aside, I had a great time on Tinian, and the challenge that I faced gave me the confidence to take on any race—and I’ll be needing that in about a month and a half.

Before the sun came up last Saturday, it was time to sign in and get the number 78 written on my arms and legs. Not long after that I met the swim team from the Osaka YMCA. The kids from Japan were pretty cool, and they made the journey to the CNMI to participate in the 3-kilometer Reef Swim. I don’t like the idea of swimming just about two miles for anything. I don’t think I would swim that far from a shark. I’d probably go for a few meters and tell him “You Win” before offering up a slab of Brad.

Be that as it may, I still had to swim 1,500 meters for this race. After making our way down to Taga Beach, we tested the chilly waters for a little warm up. While standing on the beach. I had time to watch the volunteers place the buoys in the sea, and that’s when two things became clear to me: that I was going to be in the water for a long time, and that I was a long way from the comforts of the Saipan lagoon.

Roughly 70 people entered the water in unison when we received the signal to start the race, and about 25 meters into the swim, I passed over an underwater photographer—that’s a first.

I got kicked a few times, and I kicked a few hands of my own, but it was all unintentional—kinda. The deal is that you want to be polite to your friends, neighbors, and fellow racers, but you’re trying to get ahead, too. So, all’s fair in love and water.

Just like the start of the run in the Cross Island Relay, I took off way over my pace, but about 250 meters into it, the crowd spread out and I was able to settle into my swim.

The water became very deep very fast, and soon I was flying over fish, parts of sunken ships, coral, and sand at a height of 40 feet rather than racing. It was so beautiful that it completely took my mind off of the task at hand and compelled me to see what lay ahead.

By the time I hit the beach, I knew that I was going to be hurtin’ later on. Not only was the swim the longest of my life, but it was totally different from the shallow lagoon swims that allow a winded water-goer to stand up and take a break.

I ran to my fancy bike from Romey at Saipan Bike Pro, slammed a granola bar, and donned the sneaks, helmet, and camelback and peddled my way to Suicide Cliff. The bike course was a killer. It was like the stories my parents told me about their arduous journey to school when they were kids—and believe me, it was uphill both ways.

After making the trip to Suicide Cliff and back, the course went up the hill that leads to the airport. If you have ever been to Tinian, you know that this is not something you’d like to try in your spare time, but that’s what we did.

I still remember the thought that crossed my mind as I reached the top and made the turn, “And I get to do all of this again—woo-hoo.”

That wasn’t a happy woo-hoo, but I was definitely happy when I cruised down the hill with reckless abandon. I got another rush of energy when I passed the crowd at the transition point to start the second lap. I knew that I was getting low on energy, and after knocking out the first hill for the second time, I realized that I had almost no fuel left in the tank.

Not wanting to experience a setback by bonking for the first time, I saw an opportunity to gas up and I took it. Before starting out on the airport hill again, I ran into the local Mobil station and told the shopkeeper my situation. He asked me if I finished the race, and was quickly surprised to learn that I was still in it. I told him that I needed some grub, that I had no money on me (kinda like “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today”), but that I would come back and settle the debt. He wavered a bit, but gave in to my pitiful display.

The only thing on hand was a bag of doughnuts from a local bakery, and I was happy to eat them during what was left of the race. By the time I made way back to the transition point it was clear that I was not going to win the triathlon.

The winner had already finished, and I was in rough shape, but I still take care of the run before I could go home. With a chilly water bottle and a gut full of fat pills, I made my way up, up, up the hill to the turn around. My legs started to cramp up, and I knew that running the whole way was not going to be an option. I stretched the gams with long strides, took a swig of agua, and made my way up to the turn around one pole at a time.

The way back was a piece of cake, but it was hot—real hot. I drank water every chance I could, and just refused to stop running until I made it in. By the time I got to the final water station, they were out of H2O. I had exchanged a few jokes with the kids working the spot every time I passed them by, but this time half of them started running with me. They had no water, but offered their support—how cool was that? The mini mob and I took a nice easy pace during the final kilometer or so, which reminded me of my days with the U.S. Army, so I called out some cadence to them. Big thanks go out to the boys in Tinian who helped get me in, and also to the Department of Public Safety who kept the roads clear, and the rest of the volunteers spread out throughout the course. Next up is tomorrow’s mountain bike race with the Northern Marianas Triathlon Federation, and that will be the first off-road challenge for my two-wheeled machine.