We'll get right to it. You're welcome.
Had the alarm set for 4:20 a.m., but I never heard it. I was awake at 4:10 on my own so I decided the extra 10 minutes were better spent getting ready rather than trying to get just 10 more minutes of rest. Really the only thing I had to get ready was myself. This race was different than other triathlons in that I had already dropped off my bike and transition bags the day before so I didn't have to worry about any of that equipment. Kinda nice.
Got out of bed, stood in the shower for a few minutes to refresh and jumped out. Threw on what I would wear under my wetsuit, an outer layer to stay warm and prepped some breakfast - oatmeal, fruit, bagel, yogurt - and what I would carry and eat on the bike - 2 PB&Js, some homemade energy bars, cut a banana and mixed my water bottles with the appropriate powders. By this time my sherpa helper, Kimmi, was up and at 'em and being her cheerful self that early in the morn. We went through my bags and lists one final time to make sure I had everything and headed to the car for the 10 minute drive to downtown Madison. The day was supposed to be gorgeous weather-wise so there weren't any worries there. The last I heard (or paid attention to), the highs were going to be in the upper 70s w/ minimal wind/breeze. Approaching a little too warm by a triathlete's standards, but certainly manageable.
We parked the car, got bodymarked with my race number
and while I went to prep my bike, Kimmi went to drop off my Special Needs bags a couple of blocks away. I did my thing with my bike - topped off the tires with air (140 psi in case you wanted to know); made sure the computer was working (speed, cadence, etc.); put water in my aero bottle and put my other premixed bottles in their racks; and took the plastic bag off covering my seat (didn't want a dewy moist seat for 112 miles). My trusty steed was ready, nothing else to do, so I gave it a final love tap and asked it to behave once I got done with the swim and for just a few hours after that.
The plan that morning was to meet my family, aka Team McIron, at 6:00 a.m. so I could see them before I got in the water. It was as much for me to say my final goodbyes in case something happened as it was for them to wish me luck. They arrived on time, all donned in matching orange shirts and crazy hats.
We had about 10 minutes together and then I bid them farewell and said I'd be back in "about 14 hours. See ya then!". Probably could've held out and hung around for a few more minutes, but I wanted to get in the biffy line so I wouldn't wait until the last minute. This also allowed me some alone time to gather my thoughts, calm my nerves and separate from the commotion for a bit.
Took care of business on the throne (you really wanted to know, didn't you?!) and headed towards the water. This section of the tri is what had me worried the most. I consider myself a pretty decent swimmer, but that's based off 50 meter splits in a lap pool with a lane to myself. This time I was going to be with over 2,500 of my closest friends that day, all starting at one time, already in the water! After watching this mass start in previous years, it's pretty intimidating and scary even from dry land. It literally looks like a washing machine! I was scared about being able to hold my own with all the hands, elbows and feet flying around. I tried not to worry about it, it is what it is, I knew that when I signed up so just told myself to buck up and deal with whatever comes. Finished putting on my westuit and went straight to the water to get into position, no more procrastinating! I was in the water at 6:37 with a 7:00 start time.
I had already decided I was going to try to keep a tight, inside line. Some were talking about starting wide and angling in towards the first corner because it might not be as crowded starting out there. I felt it was going to be crowded no matter where you were and the corners were going to be a cluster f*ck no matter what angle you came at 'em from so I might as well swim the shortest distance. I warmed up and swam out to the Start line. I stayed about 15 yards back and about 10 feet off the very inside edge. I had a nice pocket to myself and was able to relax for a few minutes before the cannon was fired starting the race. Once that cannon went off, HOLY HANNAH, all Hell broke loose!
Within 3 strokes my little pocket of lonesomeness had disappeared. I was up in the masses ahead of me and the masses behind me all felt like they wanted to get in my wetsuit! It definitely was the slugfest I was warned it would be. There was very little room and nearly impossible to get a good, full extension stroke. My arm turnover became much more rapid and I fought with the best of 'em to protect my space. I took a couple of blows to the back, buttocks and legs, but nothing that really kept me from moving forward. After a couple hundred yards though, still jam-packed, I took an elbow (I think) to the face. Luckily, I was rotating to breathe so it didn't hit me square, but did manage to hit my goggles. Immediately I felt that something was wrong, but I couldn't figure out what it was. "That's weird", I thought. "My goggles are still on, but I can't see out of my right eye. They don't feel broke so I wonder what happened?" It took me a couple of strokes to figure out that just the goggle on that one eye had gotten flipped inside out and was pressing on my eye! Thankful that it wasn't shattered, I tried flipping it right side out again, but continuing to still stroke and swim. I didn't dare stop swimming lest get run over by everyone behind and around me! I couldn't get it to flip so I was pretty much resigning myself to swim just being able to sight with one eye for another 2.2 miles when the goggle fixed itself. Hallelujah, minor crisis averted!!
With that behind me I re-concentrated on what was going on around me. I started hearing something and couldn't figure out what it was and then it dawned on me. It was 2,500 other swimmers! Wow, that many swimmers all at once is LOUD! Having never been in that situation before I didn't even think about it and know it would be like that. If anything, I figured the water would probably muffle some of the sound. So not only does it look like a washing machine from above, it sounds like one when you're in the middle of it!
Up next came the first turn. "This is gonna get interesting", I thought. No matter how many swimmers are in a race, there are always human traffic jams at the corners. Who wants to swim extra yardage by taking it too wide, right? I made up my mind to try to take it as tight as I could (most traffic right there too) and just deal with it. Once I got there it was tighter than I imagined it would be, but I just kept fighting (i.e. swimming). There was no time, nor room, to wait for others to get through so I just kept stroking, but with my head out of the water so I wouldn't get kicked. If I could take a stroke and work my arm and shoulder in-between those in front I was then able to pull myself through (i.e. over) and get by. It didn't always work on the first stroke and sometimes took 3 or 4 and eventually I made it around the corner. Whew, 1 corner done and I survived it! Just a short stint later though and we were at corner #2 and doing it all again. After this one though it was the long back straight-away and we were able to separate and thin out a little bit. There was still jockeying for position going on and clean water to swim through was no where near to be found unless I went really wide. I stuck with my strategy to swim the inside line, fight a little more now rather than swim the wider, longer distance.
Corner 3 came and so did the same bottleneck conditions. Corner 4 came, same thing, but now we were on lap 2 of 2. I was jazzed that the first lap was done and I was still feeling good and felt like I belonged! I was swimming strong, feeling good and not letting anyone push me around.
I don't think it ever really thinned out enough to where I wasn't constantly hitting or getting hit until the final backstretch on that 2nd lap. Everyone was swimming close enough to each other that if I wanted to steal a kiss I probably could have if I timed it right and the person I was swimming next to breathed when I did. The men all had 1 color swim caps on and the women had a another color so it wouldn't have been hard to differentiate. I should've tried just to see what would've happened. :) Maybe next time. After turning corner #6 of 7 and getting 20ish yards beyond that I got bonked on the head. The lady who did it was kind enough to say "I'm sorry!" but it really wasn't necessary. "Just part of the experience", I thought and I kept going on my way.
Turned the final corner and started heading towards shore. At this point, knowing I was going to be sitting on my bike for the next 6 hours I started kicking harder and faster to get the legs warmed up. It felt like I skimmed across the water and finally struck terra firma. Exited the water after 2.4 miles in 1:13:34, right in the window of my predicted time!
Once on dry land it was the strippers turn to go to work. Sorry guys, it's not what you think. The wetsuit strippers where there to help us get our wetsuits off, all I had to do was hold my arms out so they could peel it off my upper body, lay down when they told me to so they could peel it off my lower body and then let them help me stand back up. From there, just a short little jaunt up 4 flights of the parking ramp helix to T1 and time to get ready for a leisurely 112 mile ride!
After surviving that swim I now have tons more confidence for any group swims I'll do in the future. Measely little 50 person group wave starts will (hopefully) feel like child's play!
Tomorrow's post: 112 miles of rollin' rollin' rollin', keep them wheels a rollin'
