What a weekend! Tired. Hot. Epic
The American Triple T is everything I hoped it would be. We signed up to this race after I listened to a favourite podcast of mine and the New Zealand presenters interviewed the organizers. It was enthralling to me to have a go at a race that most seemed impossible, or even bonkers. I think that's why I'm attracted to this lovely sport of long distance triathlon. There's those that climb up El Captain without ropes or those that scale Mount Everest without any oxygen. Now they are nutters. I find myself content with just pushing my aerobic and mental system just far enough to avoid any danger of death or severe injury, but far enough that most wouldn't even consider it. That's the sweets spot.
The Triple T filled that spot nicely. We started our journey from Minnesota on Thursday. With a pit stop in Indianapolis on the way down, we arrived in the picturesque Shawnee State Park on Friday lunchtime, in time to check in and register. Our cabin lay in the lush woodlands near the race start. The catch was that the start/finish line lay down a steep hill, about 1/2 mile from our temporary front door. That climb was to represent our proverbial struggle after each race. To climb back atop our mental steads and recoup for the next race.
Friday evening began with what I termed a "smash and grab' 250m swim, 6KM bike (up that bloody hill) and then a 1 mile run. About 30mins or heart pounding out of your chest fun. The introduction to our lake swimming area for the weekend was a rude one. The temperature was ideal, the content was not. We discovered through smell, taste and feeling that the lake was somewhat shallow in spots and not high on the visibility. Despite warnings not to stand to early when exiting the lake, some did and with it scooped up a triathlon short load of stewed up mud and grime that would redefine muddy for all the years to come.
After getting out of the swim we jumped on our bikes for a smash fest of fun, burning fun. Up and down the hill and straight out for a mile of quick step and fancy feet. 28mins later it was all over and off we went for some R&R before the next days festivities.
One of the huge appeal of this race is the camaraderie between the entrants. We immediately discovered this when we found that our picnic table represented the mecca of cell phone reception, with an unprecedented 4G signal. Word was out and the few of our neighbours nightly ritual became to visit our spider infested picnic table for a quick hi and good night to their loved ones. We met a top couple of lads, an Irishman and Frenchman from Buffalo, who proved to be a valuable resource by imparting their 10years of knowledge from the race. Their advice probably saved us on Saturday.
We awoke Saturday morning to the prospect of 2 olympic distance races back to back, with a 4 hour break in the middle. The second race being an unconventional bike, swim and run aka cramp fest. Both races went according to plan. We quickly learnt to take wide lines in the lake to avoid all the silt and downed tree limbs hiding under the murky surface and that the hill we had to climb up back to our lodge was nothing compared to the hills outside of the park! However, any pain of suffering experienced on those hills was trumped by the beautiful vistas presented to us and the smooth roads during our journey. The country in that area, at times, could easily be mistaken for a high plateau in the french alps. It was gorgeous. The run portion beauty was no exception with the butterflies in abundance, floating around your head like you were in a dream. This being a fortunate feeling, because once you began the climb up the infamous Lamp Black Run you wished you were in one! The "fire road" that became our "old friend" for the next 3 races was a beauty of a run through the woods of the forest, but a run with relentless climbs and descents which compounded fatigue as the weekend progressed. That said, this was easy to forget as athlete after athlete passed by encouraging each other to forget the pain and enjoy the views. There were some inspirational athletes there. Cancer survivors. Veterans. Athletes who were competing in their last triathlon due to injuries sustained in crashes. However, the one that will stick with me for a long time will be the blind athlete. I was lucky enough to criss-cross her and her guide in almost the same spot each day on the run. When you race along side blind athletes and their guides you will always be inspired, but these too stood out from the rest due to the difficulty of the run. The rocks, divots and potholes made it challenging for those of us lucky enough to have our sight. However, the difficulty is surely ratcheted up when you can't see your steps in front of you. These two athletes gave me such a well needed boost every race and it's a experience that I will take with me throughout my life.
By the time we finished Saturday's racing we were well in need of a good rest. The second race's format and tested us all a little bit more than usual, although, being a good swimmer, I really enjoyed it.
When you wake up Sunday morning, high mental fatigue levels have been introduced to delirium. You begin to be silly and make some terrible jokes, all to avoid the inevitability of the half iron distance race that awaits you. A distance that we've done a fair few times, but ramping yourself up to the level needed to finish the distance was the challenge of the morning.
At this point in the race we were down to 2 of us, out of the 4 that began the weekend. Illness and snuck up on our two companions and it was down to Napoleon and I to get to the finish line. Competitiveness gave way to an attitude of let's-get-through-this-together. A piece of shared mentality that would help me through the bike and us both through the run. The bike was a combination of the previous two olympic races and the run a double visit to Lamp Black Run's hilly and gravely 6.55 miles. It was a race that you grew in to. As the legs warmed up, along with the lungs, the bike became a pleasure instead of a chore. Competitiveness gave way to contentment. Even the most arduous hill at mile 45, with a little hubris (:)), made for enjoyable riding. The day was warming up quickly and by the time we made the fast descent in to T2, I was ready for the day to be done. However, 13.1 miles still had to be covered. It normally takes me a mile to find my running legs after a ride and that was to be no different today. We climbed. We descended. The fluid were consumed and doused. After a couple of hours in the blazing, but somewhat shaded forest, we emerged to be greeted by the glorious sight of the finish and our team mates cheering us to the end. You don't get the long finish chute that an Ironman race gives you, with screaming supporters all around. It's more of gentle and, in my opinion, far more enjoyable finish. Quietly satisfying why you came to race - to show yourself what you didn't think you were capable of achieving. Taking yourself on a physical and mental journey that continues long after the race has finished.
This is a tough race. No doubt about it. However, the mental side far outweighs the physical. It's a race that reminds you what great race organization can give to you with a small event and a beautiful venue. There is no doubt in my mind that we will be back, if not just remind ourselves every year why we chose this sport in the first place and bring us back (mentally) to where we all started, if not with a little pain for extra sweetness.
Good luck to us all!
