Burnet Tri-Hard
Burnet, Texas
Even on the run, it was OK until the turnaround to come back to the finish. The bottom fell out, and the effects of the ride the day before settled in on me hard. I had to walk/run, but I got through it and was proud that I could do back-to-back events like that…and I even got 3rd place in my age group…Can you imagine? A great day. My wife’s orthopedic surgeon and his two sons did this one with me, and that was fun. A good day. Thanks God
CB & I Triathlon
Woodlands, Texas----May 5, 2007
(500-meter swim-15-mile
bike-5K run)
The
bike was a different matter. The
pavement is smooth in the Woodlands and the terrain is flat. It was soaring time. I passed so many riders I worried that I was
going to bonk somewhere down the road, but I didn’t.
.
My bike split became my PR
for average speed at that time. For that, I was proud. However, there were a lot
of tough old triathletes there, and though I had a good overall time, I was
still only fifth out of seven participants.
A good experience, especially on the bike. A good day overall.
Wool Capitol
San Angelo, Texas
The bike was the same out and
back with little or no traffic and I believe this is the bike ride where I saw
the large rattlesnake on the road.
Thankfully, it had been just recently run over and was dead. The run was the killer. I had to walk early.
Ironstar Half Ironman
October 24, 2004
I was worried about the swim. I was worried I would have to wear my too-tight wetsuit. I surely hoped I would not have to. I didn’t. The swim took us down the boat canal, then out into the open lake. There were some serious prayers before this swim.
That was when I started
talking to myself. Peace be still! The
verse of scripture came back to me. My
stroke lengthened as a firm calm settled in. I passed buoys on my right one
after another. I was on course. A fisherman in a small aluminum boat puttered
by without seeing me. Now the strokes
were feeling powerful, and after a couple more buoy passes, I overtook some
swimmers. Pulling through my group of
swimmers, I began to catch some of the slower ones from the previous wave. This was one great swim. Getting out, though, was a deep landing in a
very muddy area. Thank God I had help.
I was pumped from the great swim and had a fast transition besides. Out on the bike right away, I started passing folks, but I could only get one gear. The shifters on my bike were not working. The next few miles consisted of passing people and then stopping to try to fix my shifter. I could not shift from the small to the big front chainring. Finally, I gave up and decided to just do the bike course in one gear, the big gear, my favorite. So, let’s go. I was really into it; taking the hills, passing everyone I came to, I was on fire. Soon, I had passed everyone I could see and found myself all alone on the course. After a couple more miles, I still had not seen another rider. Did I pass everybody? I doubted it. Am I lost? Maybe. Did I take a wrong turn? Did I miss a turn? Where am I? Then I fought my way up some hard hills, which I didn’t think were supposed to be on this part of the course. My legs and my body were starting to feel the effects of “too much too soon.” I was getting tired.
I climbed one last bad hill,
then the road dead-ended into a major highway. Definitely, this was not on the
course map. I was done. Down on the right, I
could see a convenience store. These
were the days before the ubiquitous cell phones, so I would need to go to the
convenience store, borrow a phone, and call my Pat.
BTU Triathlon
Lake Bryan, Bryan, Texas
500-yard
swim-14.5 bike-3.2-mile run
This was not the most well-organized event I had been to, but they did have carpet laid in the entire transition area – looking for a positive. The swim was uneventful, other than the usual jump starters swimming like fury only to end up dog paddling and gasping for breath two hundred yards out.
One
thing I was truly impressed with was a young man who walked up to the edge of
the lake for a swim warm-up before the race.
He reached down and took off a leg, then stood on one leg before he
entered the water. The next time I saw
him was halfway through the run. It had
taken me that long to catch him, and I probably would not have caught him at
all if he had not had to deal with that prosthesis hurting the stump of his leg
(see photo)
It
was hard to get the momentum up on the bike, but once I did, I began to roll
pretty well. I can remember coasting
down a hill tucked low in the drops, gaining speed all the way down, zipping by
another rider who was peddling like crazy.
Finally,
the course went onto the earthen lake dam and we ran on that. A man in my age group passed me. I thought of making a race of it, but I just did
not have a race left in me. In the last part of the run, we had to get off the
earthen dam by coming down a slippery clay hill, then crawl over a log. This was not my favorite part of the event. But once the log crawling was done, there was
pavement, and I finished with a clop-clop from my mud-weighted shoes.
They had the age groups messed up. Somehow, they got me in a younger age group, and I did not place. I would have been second in my correct age group.
It was still a good experience. A friend of mine got out of the swim, went to her bike, only to find she had a flat right there in transition. So, I was thankful for a good race.
Metroplex
June 10, 2007
Joe Poole Lake-Grand Prairie, Texas
800 Meter Swim-15 Mile
Bike-5K Run
This was the last time I did
this event. I love the venue, but it has
since been reduced to a mini-sprint.
This would be great for first-timers and one-timers who want to say they
did a triathlon, but it no longer suited my purpose as far as event distances.
The swim had to accommodate
choppy waters. In the belly of some of
the waves, the swimmer would often encounter water grasses. Some got pretty terrified with stuff touching
them all the time. I did hear someone
asking for help there. After stopping my
swim, I tried to see where the voice was coming from but could not. Bobbing so
in the waves made good vision difficult.
However, I did see a kayak come over to the area from which I had heard
the call for help. So, I felt good
enough to swim on. However, another
kayak sort of ran over me out there in the waves.
And saving the best for last,
I had my best bike leg ever here on this date averaging over twenty miles per
hour. This could hold up as my lifetime
PR bike split.
The run was the usual out and
back on a flat, hot course. I finished
strong and was third in my age group.
Good event; good performance.
Wool Capitol
San Angelo, Texas
August
13, 2005
1500
meter swim-40K bike-10K run
I
wrote an article on this event that is the final story in my book,
I Hear Footsteps.
The story is called “And the Last Shall Be First.”
There
were ominous dark clouds and rumbling of thunder in the distance on race
morning. However, I really got into a
rhythm on this one that is hard to describe.
It was sort of the endgame of what is sought in all of this. Nothing exceptional about the times of the
three disciplines. The run through the
“dirt road from hell” was its usual misery; hot, sandy, without shade. The finish line crowd was essentially only
the timers and chip removers. As always, my faithful wife was at the finish;
the only one cheering me on, having patiently waited out the entire race in the heat and always being my number one fan. God bless her and
thank God for her.
And the Last
Shall Be First
The Perfect
Race
The bike ride was almost as
transcendental as the swim had been. The
headwind hummed hard against my face, yet it seemed my legs pedaled almost
effortlessly. My mind drifted up into a
higher plane, seemingly serenaded and caressed by the sounds of my tires on the
pavement and the feel of the wind on my face.
A steep hill loomed ahead and my labored breathing soon accompanied the
many other soothing sounds of that moment in time. I was so blessed! I could feel it! Downhill – a crosswind now. Yes, let the bike have its head to soar. Faster, faster, faster still! Now around forty miles per hour. Suddenly, a fierce gust of crosswind gathered
up the front wheel of the bike, skittering it sideways, causing me almost to
lose control. My spell broken, my
caution renewed, I settled into a safer and more peaceful rhythm.
Metroplex –Grand Prairie, Texas
June 12, 2005,
Grand Prairie, Texas, Joe Pool Lake
800-meter swim, 15-mile bike, 5k run
My son did this one with
me. He had an injured ankle from a
motorbike accident, but he soldiered through, and I was proud of him for it.
This was probably one of my best overall performances. I had a great swim – probably my best at 800 meters – I biked a personal record (at that time) of 19 miles per hour and followed with a good run. I transitioned well too: solid effort, the kind you strive for.
On the bike, I was passed by a man in my age group. That made me catch fire, and I stayed with him all the way to transition. He was wearing bike shoes and cleats. I always ride in my running shoes, so I knew I would out-transition him. Sure enough, I passed him as he clop-clopped to his rack area. I put my bike up, put on my cap, and left on the run while he was changing shoes. I never saw him again on the course.
It was hot, very hot, coming
back on the run. I kept passing a young
man who was walking, and then he would run to pass me.
We did this a few times.
Finally, I passed him, and he said, “You’re the man today. Way to go, Mister. Good job.”
Sportsmanship under tough conditions.
That is the essence of triathlon.
This was a good race for me, and I thank God for it.
Boomtown Tri
May 18,
2003, Beaumont, Texas
300-yard
Swim-10-mile Bike-5K Run
The water was clear in this
small lake used predominantly for water skiing.
On the back side of the lake was a swampy area. I remember asking a local
if they had any alligators in this lake. He answered me something to the effect, where did I think I
was? I just hoped that they all had
been run off or cut up by the ski boats which frequented these waters. It was an uneventful 500-yard swim, other
than almost everyone started too fast, and by 400 yards, half the folks in my
group were doing all kinds of swim strokes other than the crawl. Some were just
floating and puffing, trying to get their breath back.
I actually finished first in
my age group, but the race folks got messed up on the age brackets, and I ended
up with second place. That was fine. I
was glad I was not flirting with last place anymore.
Metroplex
Joe Pool Lake - Grand Prairie, Texas,
Sometimes a wave would lift me suddenly, and my arm would come out of the water prematurely during the stroke. Sometimes the belly of the wave brought me down into the submerged hydrilla, and I had to try to pull or shake the weeds off and soldier on. But I did it, and all in all, it was not all that bad.
Initially, the bike ride was into the wind, but the course turned back, and that put the strong wind at my back. With that wind assistance, my speed increased. The smooth pavement on the main road was a big help, too, and this was turning into a great bike ride. up. I found myself going faster than I ever went over that distance. When I turned back into the wind, that same "hair on fire" spirit pushed me hard on the way back. I was winded at transition, but ultimately it was a fast bike
split, the fastest I would ever do.
The run was flat and out and
back. The heat was oppressive, but I finished feeling good about my performance
and got 3rd in my age group. Yeah, I have memories. But, how great it would be to live this one again. Thank you, Lord, for these moments
Athens Triathlon
March
8, 2003, Athens, Texas
300
yard pool swim - 12-mile bike - 5K run.
Athens was an event sort of tailored to first-timers, but lots of really good triathletes also did it. It is a highly competitive event. The night before, the large Baptist Church in Athens puts on a pasta supper free-great gesture of support. We went to that and had a great time.
The pool swim was in the YMCA pool. It is a self-seeded swim, and I tried to be conservative in my own estimate- mistake. I stood in a long line of participants for a long time, waiting to get in the water. Some participants were already coming in from the bike and leaving on the run, and I hadn't even gotten wet yet.
It also seemed that many participants didn’t have a clue how fast they swam 300 yards. I swam over some folks, and some folks swam over me. Many had to stop at the wall to rest up, and I would have to try to get around them there. Others clogged up the swim lanes because they could barely swim at all, and they hung on the lane ropes, obstructing swim traffic. To me, the whole event gets distorted with a start like this. But that's just me.
I really don’t like pool swims at all. Can you tell?
But I got through it just fine, a few seconds faster than I had
predicted.
The course was hilly, full of potholes, and I
had a rough time of it. After bouncing really hard through a large hole, my
chain came off. Ole Gray and I just
didn’t seem to be coming together this time.
It turned out to be my worst bike
performance in any triathlon I have ever done. This would be Ole Gray’s last triathlon
with me.
Dogridge
June 23, 2002,
Stillhouse
Hollow Reservoir,
Dana Peak
Park, near Killeen, Texas
600-meter
swim-19-mile bike-5k run
The water was very clear and
appeared very deep. With practice swimming done, I got in my swim wave to begin
the race. In the wave just ahead of
mine, a swimmer panicked. His thrashing
about and calling out frantically got all of our nerves on edge. He was pulled from the water with no apparent
harm done, other than setting a negative tone for the rest of us about to begin
our swim in that clear, deep water. I swallowed hard when the volunteer said
“next,” and motioned for us to wade into the water.
This event was done on a mountain bike, also, but this time it was a steel frame
Stumpjumper that was about fourteen years old.
It was painted primer-gray, which we affectionately called it “Ole
Gray.” It was far too small for me, but
somehow, it worked well anyway. I was
just proud to have any bike to do the bike leg with. “Ole Gray” was not just any bike. There were
no flat areas in this event, and “Ole Gray did well on those climbs. The chain came off once (I wasn’t that good
at the shifting thing just yet). Lots of
folks passed me as I was trying to get the chain back on “Ole Gray.” But once rolling again, we started catching
people. Some looked around when they
heard me coming with my mountain bike wheels and knobby tires roaring on the
pavement. I was doing well until I came
to that bad hill, for which the event was named: Dog Ridge Hill. There is a big water tower on the top of the
hill with “Dog Ridge” painted on it.
As noted before, I didn’t
have a lot of gearing experience then, and the hill caught me in the wrong gear
at the wrong time. The hill was so steep
that I was afraid of falling over from going so slowly. The hill pretty much owned me. At that point, I got off and pushed the bike
up the hill. Surprisingly, pushing my
bike, I passed some folks still trying to stay up on their bikes.
Finally, I reached the crest,
got back on “Ole Gray” and, after a couple of turns, entered a long, steep
downhill. Those mountain bike tires were
roaring loudly coming down “Dog Ridge.” I
was soaring and roaring. Looking down at
my bike computer, I saw that I had topped out at fifty-two miles an hour! I have never reached that speed since on road
bikes or any other bike. It is hard to believe
that my personal best top speed on a bike was done as a novice cyclist on a
fourteen-year-old mountain bike, several sizes too small. But it had to be the scariest ride I have
ever been on. On that descent, I caught
several people that I was afraid I would hit.
The idea of turning my front wheel even a small amount at that speed was
a scary proposition. My tactic was to take
a line that would get me by the slower riders and hope and pray they held their
line and didn’t veer in my path. I must
say it was exhilarating. However, I knew I did not want to do that screaming downhill “Dog Ridge”
experience with my hair on fire, again, anytime soon.
On the last part of the
course, the adrenaline rush from that downhill had me and “Ole Gray” rocking and a rolling, turning heads as riders looked to see what that roaring thing was that just passed them. I
caught a young man who was riding a nice tri-bike and tried to pass him as we
went up a hill. He would have none of
that and sped up. On the next hill, I
came at him again. He tried his best to
speed up and keep me from passing, but this time, “Ole Gray” and I were too
much for him. As I went by the tri-bike
rider, I am sure he could see my age from the body marking on the back of my
calf. Even if he couldn’t see my age, he
could certainly see his young self, and his high-dollar tri-bike were being
passed by an old man on an undersized, ancient, steel frame, roaring,
knobby-tired, mountain-bike. As I pulled
away from him, despite his best efforts, I heard him shout.
“sh----t”!
I would bet that man trained a lot harder for his next event.
The run was not that great,
but I got through it. The course ran the
park roads and the campers there were good support and encouragement. Late in the run, I found myself gaining on a
guy that I could see was in my age group.
There were not many in my geriatric group, and I did not want to be last
in it. So, I pushed up the pace a little
and passed him with just a few hundred yards to go. Near the finish line, I pushed extra hard,
right up to my edge, not knowing if this guy was going to make a race of it for
last place. It seemed like several
minutes later before that man came walking in, totally spent. All that gut-wrenching effort went into
beating a guy who was probably walking all the way in. At least I was not last in my age group
however that came about.
