CapTexTri

Yesterday morning marked the 20th running of the CapTexTri (Capitol of Texas Triathlon, to those non-Austinites), a Memorial Day tradition which gives thousands of athletes the chance to race in downtown Austin, thousands of drivers a chance to gripe about road closures, and thousands of spectators a chance to watch these two worlds come together. Edward, Brogan, our new friend Meredith, and myself all toed the line yesterday morning, and as Edward's earlier post indicates, that line was quite a fungible one, varying quite dramatically in time.

A few things by way of introduction. For Edward, this was a race (I believe his second on this course) that he came to with great promise. Edward had come off a race a few weeks ago that was pieced together with masterful skill, and the chance to redo that was one he had been relishing for a while. Brogan was coming to the start line this year with heightened expectations as well. Now in his second year of racing, races begin to repeat, endurance and skill begins to build, and so do expectations. Our new friend Meredith is the newest to the starting line, having never raced here before and competing in only her fifth triathlon (I believe). She brings to each race a level of ability and skill which needs to be a source of pride (however quiet that pride is), a level of humility which should be admired and imitated, and a potential which is yet to be tapped. I lined up yesterday for the fourth time since I began racing in April of 2005, and as has been the trend recently, I brought a level of personal calmness and anticipation for myself as well as a weird fatherly instinct of great concern for the other three out there that day.

(Sorry, no Riggs in this photo)

This is us pre-race. You'll notice a few things here. First the two of them are wearing their wetsuit entirely. No sense in me putting on a wetsuit when I have a fortnight to wait before I swim, so I didn't. Second, the making of a fine mustache is becoming more and more easily detected by camera. Can't wait for "Team White Thighs and Mustaches" next month at the Couple's Triathlon.

Back to the race. The swim is in Town Lake, taking a fairly simple ovular course with the buoys on the right side all the way, the current usually running east to west. The men 20-24 began fairly soon after the professionals did, and I saw Edward and Brogan take the plunge into the water and positioned myself right before the first transition to see them out of the water. Our new friend Meredith was contributing nicely at this point, disappearing for a while, returning to pour ice-cold water down the back of my shorts, and then disappearing again. Every pre-race ritual is different, I guess. On this point, I have to say that one of the many things I delight in before a race is the lightheartedness that goes along with it. Regardless of who is there--whether it is Edward, Brogan, our new friend Meredith, Dad, Amelia, Jim, Mom, Ellie, Lilly--there is always a beautiful combination of focus, competitiveness, and playfulness that exists in few other circles. Looking at Edward is a great example of this. He knows (so do many others who have come to know him atop the podium) that if he has the race he is capable of, he will perform at the top 1% of the entire field, not merely his age group. This makes conversations such as the ones we had before the race this Monday quite enjoyable. Here is a sampling:

"Does it bother anyone else that the guy starting the race has a gun? Pretty sure that's not legal."
"Hey man, I think I tore my ACL. May have to pull the plug on this one."
"What would you do if I..."
"How would you react if I..."

You get the point.

With this digression, athletes have now begun to trickle out of the water. Edward runs by, and as he has shown a knack to do at races recently, yelled something at me as if nobody else were around to hear it. As if no mother was standing next to me with her child saying things like, "Daddy should be out soon, get ready to cheer." No, I saw him and yelled something supportive like, "solid swim!" and he yelled back, "Long [expletive] swim, man. Long [expletive] swim." He was right, in fact, and hammered home his point nicely to all around (in between snot-rockets)--the swim indeed turned out to be about 300-400 meters long. Inexcusable from a race-director's point of view, if you ask me. Brogan followed him out shortly thereafter and looked strong, positioned well, and rolled through the first transition with great ease. By this time, our new friend Meredith had entered the water and started her race. Still harboring a lessening anger from the water-pouring incident, I cheered softly, and visited the port-a-potty as I waited for the entire female-triathlete population of Texas to enter the water and clutter up the swim.

Then, 20 minutes after Riggs, 55 minutes after Edward and Brogan, and 75 minutes after the race actually began, it was my turn. Positioned right on the buoys, I got clear water immediately and at the first turn, it was clear to me that there was a group of about five up ahead, the remainder behind me, and one other guy in my age-group who I was working with in the middle. The rhythm was good for a while, and then I found myself swimming over and around and through groups I really feel should have started later. (A request: each person is paying $150 to race, close the streets a little longer and allow the faster groups to go first.) I got kicked a baker's dozen of times by people on their backs doing some sort of inverse-frog kick, and the last 500 meters was like swimming from a boat to the beach-head on D-Day. I got out and rolled through T1 to begin the four-lap ride. We had calculated ahead of time that by the time I was starting the ride, Edward and Brogan would be finishing their last lap, and our new friend Meredith would be somewhere in between. I used the first lap to loosen up, hammered the second and third lap, and slowed a little on the fourth, good enough for a 23.5 mph average (definitely going to get a new saddle, by the way). It's hard to ride fast on a course with so many hairpin turns and so many people, but I did what I could and was passed once, by someone not in my age-group. I passed a couple of guys in my age-group and felt good as I pulled into the second transition. I saw Riggs out on the bike, and her slightly tweaked position looked good and she was smiling, and we exchanged yells and some aggressive waves.

Then the run. It was starting to get hot and I got going pretty quickly and was holding a good clip. I hit the first 5K in 20 minutes and slowed down on the second lap, but I was able to run down about three or four guys in my age-group who I'd been hunting on the bike. Had one guy not run me down, I would have grabbed third in my age-group, but as it was, I got fourth (of about 100), Riggs placed the same (of about the same number), and Edward's T1 mis-hap (I'll let him recount the story) cost him a similar placing that he surely would have had otherwise. I'm not sure about Brogan's placing, but that hardly needs to be the focus now--anything other than a complete obsession with the start and finish lines in Louisville would be a mistake in my eyes. I started the run when Edward had finished, Brogan was finishing, and Riggs was somewhere in front of me so I was able to hear the slew of ridiculous cheering that I often provide when the situations are reversed. For example, as I came past Edward, I also caught up to our new friend Meredith, and yelled something about "running her down" as Edward inquired as to whether I wanted to "drop anchor" about one mile into the 10K. Not the most focused 100 yards of running, but enough to get everyone smiling for a while.

And the finish. Edward's race photos show him engaged in a deviant display of nipple rubbing down the finish-chute, and as I was coming down, he was asking how my hamstrings felt (wondering, clearly, if they would tear as they so commonly do with 20 yards to go and cameras all around). I was a little too gassed to drag my leg as I usually do (I also passed someone in my age-group 50 yards from the line and wanted to hold him off), so I finished quietly, not drawing attention to myself and tracked down some gatorade before I met up with the three others.

Some more race-gripes for a second. They ran out of water at a key section of the run on my second lap, and like the swim, the run was long. Not ten feet long, but substantially long. To me, such oversights are absolutely inexcusable, dangerous (especially the water on such a hot day), and easily avoided. Regardless, it was not the focus of the day for any of us, and those things aside (things everyone had to deal with), it was a wonderful Memorial Day event.

(A good shot of Edward about 50 yards from the finish)

Then it was on to Uncle Billy's for barbecue and beer and post-race discussion. Next up for me, Couple's Triathlon. For others, there appears to be a half-Ironman on the horizon.