I arrived in Maryville, TN, about 6:30 am and parked across the street at John Sevier Elementary School. I put on my helmet and bike shoes, threw the pack with my tri gear over my shoulders, clipped in and rode over to transition. I’ve finally learned to get to the race site early.
I walked my bike into transition and found a great spot at the end of one of the right hand racks next to a lamppost, a landmark so big even I couldn’t miss it in the heat of the race. I racked my bike and set up my gear. Following a minimalist strategy taught to me by Triathlon Coach, John Hanna, I was good to go in minutes. I went off to collect my chip and get body marked. On my return, I found Dustin racking his amazing Cervelo P2 tri bike. It made my aluminium road bike look like a neolithic artifact. I may have been drooling, if so he was good enough not to mention it. We talked briefly about his training for Ironman Chattanooga, and he reminded me to safety pin my chip strap.
It was excellent weather for a season opener triathlon, 63 degrees and cloudy at race start. And it got warmer and sunnier from there. This was my first time doing the Foothills Sprint. I had attended the Tri Cities Triathlon Club clinic Memorial Day weekend and couldn’t pass on the opportunity to race with friends from the club and some new triathletes I met at the clinic.
Powering Through the Pool Swim
The swim at Foothills is 350 meters, basically seven lengths of an outdoor 50-meter pool. As with all pool-swim races you get in line based on predicted swim time. I estimated my time at 10 minutes and after quizzing a few people about their swim times found my spot. I’m always surprised at the progression as I wait in line for the swim start. It goes from the line’s not moving, to the line’s moving a little, to “oh crap” I’m up.
I watched the woman ahead of me jump in. Endured the seven-second wait, then the race volunteer gave me the word, slapped me on the back launching me into my first tri of the year. I pressed start go on my Garmin, walked to the timing mat and jumped feet first (as required) into the pool. I hit the water and it was cold. I had done some practice laps before race start so I knew what to expect. It helped. As usual I had trouble putting my face in the water and had to stand up for a second to get a grip. I hate it when I do that. Especially given how much training with my swim coach, Janine Pleasant, has improved my swim over the last few months. I guess it will take a few more triathlons before my confidence catches with my technique.
I got back to business, made sure I was exhaling forcefully into the water and finished the first length. I got more relaxed with each length of the pool. By the fourth length I was humming the theme from the “A-Team” and building speed. The swim lanes at Foothills are one way. So there is space for swimmers to pass on the left. This helps reduce the congestion that is so often encountered at pool swim sprints. Shortly I was at the swim exit which had stairs so I didn’t have to do my impression of a walrus escaping from a bathtub again.
Transition 1
I hotfooted it out of the pool area, following the cones and a paved path to transition. Surprised at how rapid my breathing was. Some TCTC friends spot me and cheered. I ran through T1, spotted the lamppost and made it to my bike. I donned my shirt, sunglasses and helmet, wiped my feet on the towel, then slid on and fastened my bike shoes. I unracked my bike, grabbed it by the saddle and ran it past the mount line. I mounted and pedaled strongly out onto the bike course.
A Hilly Bike Course
The Foothills bike course starts out with a slight hill and then moderate rollers for the first two miles or so. Then the roller coaster starts. I passed two or there people early on and reflected that up until the last year and a half I almost never passed anyone in a race. About 3.5 miles into the course I crested a hill and looked down to see an incredibly steep downhill. After a quick glance to make sure there are no hazards, I got as aero as I could. I didn’t even try to pedal. Two thoughts chased through my brain. Man that was fun! Quickly on it’s heels came how will I get back up that thing?
From here I rolled through minor hills to the turnaround and headed back. At about five and a half miles, the reckoning is at hand. What was a thrilling descent on the way out is now the ski slope I have to climb on the way back. The guy in front of me was slow shifting. I was already in the small ring of my triple. I hear that familiar ding ding, crackle, whir sound. I checked my mirror, moved left and grunted out an inaudible “on your left” as he dismounted to put his chain back on.
At about 7.5 miles I’m rolling down a long downhill on Wildwood road, when I remember the race director warning us about Wildwood Road. And I dearly wish I could remember what he was warning us about. Dragons, chickens, wildebeests? It turns out after the long downhill on Wildwood you turn left onto Johnson Road for a long steep climb that you can’t see until you make it all the way through the turn. I found myself in the little ring of my triple for the second time, and this hill really took a bite out of crime. I put everything I had left into the last half mile of the bike course and it ain’t much. Kudos to Race Day Events, volunteers and Maryville Police for a well marked and well staffed bike course.
Transition 2
I’m thrilled to see familiar territory and make the turn into transition. I dismounted, ran the bike back in, racked it, dropped my helmet and sunglasses, took off my bike shoes, put on my running shoes, grabbed my cap and race belt, and I’m out of there. I put on the cap and race belt out on the race course.
Reality Meets Run
As I headed out on the 4K run course, I’m knew was going to be difficult. My legs were fried. Further the run is an out and back that started with a big downhill stretch. What goes around comes around. As I ran along waiting for that familiar brick workout sensation to fade, I noticed that I hear a slapping sound every time my right foot hit pavement. I suspected that my running gait looked something like an interpretive dance entitled zombie without rhythm. Then I spotted Mayra on her way back toward the finish. I moved left and exchanged a high five. Psychologically at least, things were looking up. About a half mile later the same thing happened with Dustin. I took a quick walk break to see if it will help reset my stride. No joy. I’d just have to keep moving and hope for the best. I saw Scott and gave him a high five. Then after the turnaround Amanda and Beth. PR for high fives on the run.
I struggled up the last long hill and was impressed with how well I held my running form. A lesson learned at the tri clinic. I head around toward the finish line. Once more cheers from the TCTC crew. John ran out to congratulate me on finishing with a smile. I must remember to educate him on the difference between a smile and a grimace.
I normally sprint the last 100 yards or so to the finish line. I had a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t be able to pull that off this time. There was just nothing left in the tank. Then as the finish line came into view I began to accelerate. Slowly at first, then something shifted, and I’m striding, running, sprinting across the line. I don’t know what excited me more that I managed to charge the finish line after all or that I could finally stop running. Despite hills, fatigue or grimacing always and without fail stumble on.
Special and sincere thanks to Leah Gembarowski Smith and Janine Pleasant for providing photography for this post.
