Wouldn’t be a triathlon if something didn’t go wrong for me.
I receive a hilarious email from the organizers a week before. Local car show? Not a problem.
As usual, car packing and prep starts days before the actual race. The drive to south Yosemite Valley was a solid 4 hours, but the car was putting up the bigger feat. With a bike rack strapping in 2 bikes and box a-fixed like the car’s hard hat, the car ready to haul. The complete load was a full bed frame, cook stove, food for the weekend, and loads of gear. This was the first race my boyfriend would race with me, so we were double packed. Yay for spreading the triathlon bug!
We detoured through Fresno and made a long work stop at Tioga-Sequoia Brewing Company, as work not being accommodating to the trip plans. Late afternoon, we made the drive into Bass Lake. The sun was blazing down the mountain side when we drove into The Pines Resort for packet pick up. My boyfriend did a last minute registration and I was ecstatic I finally got a neon pink swim cap.
First stop was going to the lake to see the swim route. Blonde hair lifeguards and skinny brunette shop girls padded around the docks and store. We were right in the middle of a Disney teenage rom-com movie.
Second stop, we took the car to drive the bike route. The road was rough and hilly. Okay noted. Racing against sunset as we drove the full 26 mile loop, we quickly gots the bikes ready to do a small ride. I gave my boyfriend Alexander a crash course on triathlon tips and tricks, as he rode circles and showed off his fly mounting skills. Thanks dude.
We took our bikes to do the first steep inclined right after the mount line in preparation for the race. Coming back, we heard half of race orientation then racked our bikes into transition. Alexander then bolted to find wifi and get work sorted out which dragged into the night. I hit the sack early in preparation for the race. Half way through the night we had to move the car because the local church didn’t like car campers. The closest secluded spot was the entrance to a outdoor shooting range. The dirt road in was completed eroded, making the van wobble as Alexander drove into the parking area.
At 5am in complete darkness, our alarms we off and we drove back down into transition area. There was no one. I guess I was really not used to how small this race was.
Check my set up, checking Alexander’s set up. Going to the bathroom. Giving Alexander a CO2 cartridge. Taping his spare tube. Getting into my wetsuit. Taking a picture.
Somehow we made it to the dock for the start and perfectly timed was Vegan Cyclist with his drone.
All the athletes crowded at the boat launch site. Flanked on each side were small rental speed boats that showed the swim path. Yellow caps were the first horn, I quickly followed. The day was perfect, water was calm, and full visibility in the lake.
With the last left turn buoy in sight, I was passing a yellow cap swimming to my right. As I turned my head to breath, his left arm whacked my head. I felt my goggles fling off. My hands went straight to my pink swim cap. I I felt no ridge just smooth silicone swim cap. Looks like I lost my goggles halfway through the swim. I get back to my stroke rhythm. Not having goggles slower down my pace a little. Good thing I was in fresh water and everything was clear as far as I could see. I keep sighting and swimming, sighting and swimming. I dialed in to the water feel of the water with my fingertips, hands, and arms (maybe aqua-location?). I turned around the last green buoy with yellow and pink swim caps all around and swam towards the exit.
I knew a girl set up in transition next to me was in my age group, so I tried to track where she was as I was slipping out of my wetsuit. The start of the bike route off the mount line is a straight hill. Not attempting to fly mount and fall on my face. I mounted better than I did the 2 previous triathlons and had only the ball of my foot in the shoe climbing up the hill.My boyfriend was yelling GO JASMINE! as I ran up the dock through the private resort pool picking up my flip flops. I hobbled up the inclined parking lot jogging towards transition.
The start of the route had longer ascends and descends. My legs felt sluggish and I was moving in slow motion as other cyclist passed me. It was a low hum ache and pain through my back, quads, and lower back. The road was bumpy; at least it was nicely shaded. I felt like I was riding in slow mode; I was churning in a middle ground effort level, but not having the strength to go harder. It must have taken 30 minutes before my legs shed the fatigue. Having driven on the road the day before, I knew the turn on 222 road was a steep incline. I could see the riders in front of my visibility stall upon the sudden uphill.
The hilly parts where I usually take advantage to make up some distance wasn’t working so well this time. Urban city flats had made me weak. I imagine a bird’s eye view looking like little ants moving over a large log. And the hills just kept coming. The small offshoots revealed ranch style homes on acres fenced off to create rectangular plots. I was hopscotching between shade and sun through the grind.
Up ahead I saw a black dog with a chain around its neck on the road. The pitbull repeated ran up to bikers spinning slow up an incline. Oh nooo. Not a good sign. I keeping trekking forward and the dog intercepted me. It nipped with its front teeth first, gnawing at my left heel. I tried to stay balanced and rolled along. I was also acutely aware that my timing chip was velcroed onto my left ankle. I just kept pedaling until I left the disturbance a distance behind my rear wheel. To be fair to the pit bull, it wasn’t attacking but I was vexed by whoever the dumb owner was let the dog loose. I was relatively lucky, apparently, there where athletes that got bite and someone who lost a timing chip to the dog then had to chase it down.
The rolling hills stretched on and at one point I was heading towards the south tip of Bass Lake. This was were the local car show was setting up. Knowing I was heading towards the end point, I picked up my rpm. I caught up and passed a couple people but was riding alone most the time. Roads were wider heading north on the westside of the lake. Longer stretches of rolling hills also brought about potholes and bumps.
A truck hauling a boat drove by me. 100 feet later, I swing around a bend and dodge the truck with the boat parted on the yellow lines in the middle of the road and a SUV with its front bumper on the ground. Good thing I wasn’t going fast enough to be in the middle of the accident.
I was so ecstatic to see the last orange cones marking the last right turn downhill. I was reluctant to pass another athlete clinching onto his brakes in front of me, as I buzzed towards the dismount line. Off the bike, cycling shoes off and running shoes on, I tried to fly through transition.
The initial jelly legs and locked up glutes did not hit me as I ran out of transition. Maybe I wasn’t biking hard enough? I zeroed in on keeping my running past quick and light. I always imagine smooth spinning wheels. To motivate myself from slowing down as the hurt kicked in, I would find a female in front of me and work to overtake her.
The run was not forgiving. The route was 2 hilly, y-shaped loops with the steepest hills at the beginning and middle of the run. I took water at all the aid stations. Mentally, I was trying to make my legs go slightly faster. I player the mental game of leap frogging pass the females runners in front of me. The classic physics problem set: if runner a was running at a rate of R1 and runner b was running at a rate of R2 50 meters ahead, how long would it take runner A to catch up?
Check out my super awkward race debrief from Vegan Cyclist's video at 12:21. Looks like I also angered some New Yorkers with my "no-hills" comment. Ooops |
No comments.