A Feat of Olympic Proportions - Part II

(If you haven't read Part I yet, go here.)

As a lurched out of the water it took several steps to get my land legs back.  I had been swimming for 37 minutes and it was an accomplishment in itself to be running (if you could call it that at my slow speed) up the beach while unzipping my wetsuit.

I arrived in the transition area, squeezed out of the wetsuit and tried to wash away the sand on my feet before putting on socks and shoes.  They say races have been won and lost in the transition area.  I wasn't here to win.  I took my time (3 minutes and 31 seconds) getting on my helmet, my socks and cycling shoes, and securing my nutrition into the back pockets of my jersey.

I wheeled the bike (perhaps the most beautiful and beloved of all triathlon bikes in the greater Bear Lake area that day) out of transition, clipped in my shoes, and away I went.  Cycling is my favorite leg and I was thrilled to be at the start of it.  It wasn't long onto the highway, however, when my chain slipped off the gears.  A quick pit stop on the road side and I had everything back in working order, sans my now grease-stained fingers.

Once I was sure everything was okay I turned up the gear and took off.   The aero bars were amazing and I was chasing down one cyclist after another.  The voice of my spinning class instructor Cory was pounding in my head, "1...2...1...2, 1, 2, 1, 2."  The view of the lake from the East side was beautiful and everything looked fresh and green from the rain the night before.

Picture By Utah Outdoor Activities

There was a couple, a young guy and girl, that I had been chasing for a few miles.  Just after I passed them I came up on a traffic cone in the middle of the road.  Having driven the course the day before, I was anticipating a turn around any time.  I stopped to examine the soggy, half missing sign at the bottom of the cone.  It looked like this was the turnaround, albeit poorly marked.

My hesitation cost me and the couple slowed to turn then took off.  Again I was on the chase.  When I caught them again we pedaled together for a moment and I joked about our game of cat and mouse.  This was a common game for the last 6 miles, chasing then being chased as a half dozen of us tried to keep up our paces. 

Along the way I shouted words of encouragement to the people I passed and those approaching the turn around.  As I passed one cyclist I cheered, "Way to go!"  Her reply? "Ah!  You scared the crap out of me."

A group came up on me from behind and while I stuck with them for a time I learned that they had not seen the turn around and had ridden for several extra miles.  The odometer on their bikes was their clue they had gone too far.  My brother Danny had experienced a similar problem, having ridden way past the turnaround.

As I was nearing the end of the ride my legs were burning.  I was flying up the hills as fast as my legs would allow telling myself, "This is nothing compared to those 7 minutes hills Cory makes us ride."  All the while I kept thinking, your run is going to be slow whether you save energy or not.  Give it everything on the bike.  Go, go, go!

My other motivation was the girl in the green shirt (at least I think it was green, I've all but forgotten the color now).  She was in on the cat and mouse game and I thought I had finally passed her for good.  With three miles to go, there she was again, taking the lead. I tried to follow but soon fell behind, watching her bright shirt pull away.  We were a mile to the finish when I started gaining ground again.  This time when I passed I told her "You have been my inspiration.  I've been trying to catch you."  She kindly replied, "Now it's your turn to take the lead."

So lead I did, back into the park gates and to the transition area, finishing the bike leg as the third fastest cyclist in my division.