The triathlife toed the line this a couple weekends ago.
Our only multisport race of the season.
With the house this year there has been little time for extensive training and racing. Other triathletes out in the social ether call that kind of stuff “life points”. Well then, what did I win? Because I am sitting on pale yellow, stucco sided, two story mountain of life points.
It’s been a bit of a deal. I’m not complaining. We love our house. But it’s been like..um, like…well, remember that scene in “The Money Pit” where Tom Hanks and Shelley Long each pour their buckets of water into the tub and the tub falls through the floor and Tom laughs, nay, howls at the hole in the floor and then at poor Shelley? Yeah, that.
But that’s not why you called. The race. Holidayman. Somonauk, IL. Sprint Dualthon. 1.2 mile run, 17.6 mile bike, 3.5 mile run.
We kept it simple. Almost to a fault. Arrived late (“Hey Jen isn’t it usually darker when we arrive?”). Forgot our bike pump and racked our bikes with 10 minutes left in transition. But if you’re keeping it simple and you arrive two hours early, you’re not doing it right, amiright?
Holidayman is going to turn into my every year race. It’s small. It’s well run. The race director loves multisport. His pre-race Facebook updates are the stuff of legend. And prior to race start with transition closing and the “Man of Steel” soundtrack playing he read these words from Theodore Roosevelt’s “Man in the Arena”
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
Now if that doesn’t make you just want to run through a brick wall. Anyways...here's the race report.
Since this was a sprint, and the weather was literally perfect, the set-up was next to nothing. Shoes are already clipped in. Helmet on bars. Small towel on ground to mark place to leave my running shoes and hat while on the bike. My only nutrition was pre-race and then 24 oz of Gatorade whilst in the saddle. Grabbed Gatorade on the run course. Easy. The only decision I had to really worry about was...just go easy? Or go all in.
Not a lot to tell. Toed the line. Shot gunned a beer and away we went. Ok I lied. I didn’t shot gun a beer. I shot gunned two beers. Ok, just kidding…Or am I?...anyway, I went all in and got me 4th overall. Just off the podium. First loser. I was third for quite a bit but was able to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.
POST RACE SUMMARY:
Great course. Run is hilly with not a lot of relief and since it was a sprint it was game on start to finish. The Triathlife had a great time though. We hadn’t raced since IMCHOO last September (in fact I peeled the race number’s from Jen’s bike the day prior). It was good to go out against competition at a good race. We had perfect weather…if I were going to do have one multisport race, then that was a pretty good day to have and the race was low key, competitive and fun. Bravo.
I darted to the porta potty in the last few minutes leading up to the race start. In my haste I forgot to lock the door. And then…yup…you guessed it. Poor woman. I can still hear her scream as she swung the door open and found li’l ol Schmitty, squatting on the potty…the last thing she saw before heading off to start her day. You poor, poor dear.