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Kissing Asphalt

It has been 10 months and three days since my last triathlon. You would think that I would have been prepared well in advance of the San Diego International Triathlon this year considering all of the time I had to train. Life seems to have a way of sneaking up on you sometimes, and about two weeks ago I realized that I needed to start swimming again if I expected to survive 1000 meters in San Diego Bay.


14 days, and 5 swim practices. Not really the sort of preparation that it takes to win races, but it would have to do. This race was really just an opportunity to determine where I was at fitness wise anyway. It helps to go in with low expectations to avoid disappointment.

I figured I would be OK on the run, as I have been running somewhat consistently over the past month or so. My pace has been around a 6:15/mile for shorter efforts so I estimated that I could push out 6:45’s for the race if I felt good. Obviously the bike would not be an issue after all the cycling I have been doing in the off-season.

So there I was, treading water at 6:45 am waiting for the gun to go off. I was anxious to get going as the water was a bit chilly. “3-2-1-GO!” and the horn went off. I immediately got into a good rhythm. Not too fast, not too slow, but a pace I felt like I could manage for a while. I actually felt pretty good after the first 100 meters or so. I hit the gas on the turn, and kept it steady to the swim exit. 18:00. Better than I had expected!

I had a decent transition, although it was not my fastest. I didn’t really care too much though. I was not looking to break any records. The bike was my strength, and there would be plenty of time to go hard.

I hit the gas. I hit Canon street hill and held 18MPH for the climb. The fastest ascent of the hill I think I have ever held. I felt good though, and I was passing people like they were going backwards. I kept the throttle down and eventually hit the rollers on Cabrillo where my computer showed an average of 23 MPH before I even got to the lighthouse. That means I had to be pushing around 30 for the rollers. Crazy.

I sprinted up the hill at the light house and then feathered my brakes for the sharp 180 degree turn at the bottom of the hill. That’s where disaster struck.

The back wheel of my TT bike just slid out from under me coming out of the turn and I instantly knew that I was in trouble. Skipping once or twice on the asphalt, I eventually slid along the ground for 10-15 feet before coming to a stop. I could feel the asphalt scraping each layer of skin off my body like it was happening in slow motion.

Shit.

A volunteer ran over to me. “Is my bike OK?” is the first thing I said. I guess my priorities are a little out of whack.

Slowly picking my bloody self up, I didn’t think anything was broken except my ego. My rear derailleur was stuck in one gear, and I slowly rode myself off the course and back to transition.
My race was over. DNF.

Sometimes things don’t work out the way we plan. I guess I didn’t really have a plan for this race, but I can tell you that if I did, it didn’t involve crashing. Live and learn.

I fixed the bike yesterday while chasing pain killers down with mimosas. Hoping I can pick the training back up this week.

As for the San Diego International, I’ll see you next year.

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