May/June/July

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I have been part of a Missoula-based triathlon training group (Team Stampede) for about 15 years. We have graduated many of our ranks up through the upper amateur levels of the sport, and a few who have gone on to become professional triathletes (before you laugh, yes, there is such a thing. Last year the sport's top woman, Britain's Chrissie Wellington, made over $500,000.) My journey through the sport, however is destined to end at the amateur level. My goal of dong well enough at the US National Championships to make it the Worlds has now been met for the fourth time. We compete within our five-year age groups; in Australia, I will be competing against 100 or so of the best 45 to 49 year old triathletes from 60 nations. In addition to age groups ranging from 20 to 80+, there will be elite junior, under-23, and professional elite divisions of the race, which for all athletes consists of a 1.5 kilometer (.93-mile) swim, followed by a 40 kilometer (24.8-mile) bike segment, and ending with a 10 kilometer (6.2-mile run.) The professional athletes will cover the entire race in about 1 hour 50 minutes. The rest of us mortals will be shooting for between 2 and 2 1/2 hours. Some will take longer.

Training in Montana, in the spring, for a race that is going to take place in Australia's spring (in September) is a bit of a challenge.

Montana in Spring is a big lie. Endurance enthusiasts (swimmers, cyclists, runners) know this better than anyone. You get a few days of hope (70's and sun), only to fall back into February-ish temperatures and frozen moisture. Which is why May gets attacked with such vehemence, that many of us are left injured, burned out, and exhausted by the middle of the summer.

Fortunately, work and family obligations keep most of us from having enough time to actually "over-train."

May brought on a frenzy of bike rides, pool sessions, and midday group runs, and a few multiple sessions on the weekends. Towards the beginning of June, I ventured out to open water spots like Lake Como, Frenchtown Pond, and the Polson end of Flathead Lake. Thank God for the proliferation of wetsuits designed specifically for swimming (there are about 20 companies that make them, more flexible, body-hugging, and buoyant than surfing or waterskiing wetsuits, and worth a 10% time reduction in a mile swim.) I got a few formal training sessions in with Christoff at the Bitterroot Aquatic Center (his French accent is thick enough, and his vocabulary limited enough, that I don't usually know what he's saying till about August, but his SHEER VOLUME makes me swim faster. Towards the middle of June, I was ready to start racing, if slowly.

The Alcatraz Triathlon is one of the oldest, most revered races in the U.S., and next the the Hawaii Ironman, the hardest to get into. I spent five years in their lottery system before getting a slot, and was racing in June for the third year in a row. I flew to San Francisco, met with come clients to justify the airfare, and tacked down an old bike I had left with a friend. Usually, triathletes are extremely picky about their precious equipment, transporting their $10,000 time-trial machines in specialized containers at great expense to various competitions. I decided that up until the World Championships in Australia, I was going to race cheap, heavy, and unsophisticated equipment and apparel. That way, when I arrived in Gold Coast with my fancy TT bike and Team USA swim skin uniform, I would feel FAST. So the borrowed bike was part of the plan.

The ferry stopped 100 yards from the cliffs of the prison at Alcatraz Island, and as the gun went off, 1800 of us jumped into the black, 56-degree water of San Francisco Bay. 1.5 miles and 12 currents later, most of us arrived at the St. Francis Yacht Club beach, and ran to retrieve our bikes at Chrissy Field. After a 20 mile-bike through the Presidio and Golden Gate Park, we dumped our bikes and ran through the neighborhoods overlooking Baker Beach, down to the water, back up the "sand-ladder" and back to Chrissy Field for a glorious finish and breakfast and maybe a Bloody Mary or two. I was 10th in my age-group, about 60th overall. Not a great swim (my worst part, typically) but a decent effort. And a really good breakfast.

The idea was to use a few key races (mostly local, because of time/money constraints) to motivate my middle-of-summer training, mostly short stuff ("sprint" races, about half the distance of Worlds) that would keep me in the mode of swim-bike-run, without too much build-up or burn-out. In mid-July, I ran the Missoula Half-Marathon with Lanice, one of the Youth Homes kids who was running her first real, long race. Easily the most inspiring workout of the summer, Lanice and I started conservatively, and dropped our pace every mile until she ran away from me in the last half-mile at a six-minute per mile pace. Lanice got her first "half" under her belt, I got a good long run in, and Youth Homes got about $1000 out of some of you who agreed to kick off my campaign by pledging for that race. Foys Lake (sprint tri on Fathers Day,) a few bike races in Hamilton in late July, and the inaugural Lake Como Triathlon rounded out the month. A rare overall win at Como gave me a false sense of well-being for about 10 minutes, until I found out my friend John Weston (53) had won a half-Ironman in Three Forks that same morning. We raced a swim/run race at Frenchtown the next weekend (John won again, I was fourth) and the Polson Lake swim that same afternoon.

Mondays are generally about recovering from the weekend's ridiculous activities. Tuesday through Friday has been a mix of lunchtime swims, a couple of short runs, two gym sessions (light weights, long sets, and no rest between, under the watchful eye of John Humble at Ironhorse Athletic Club) and a mix of long and short bike rides. Weekends end up being races or structured bike/swim trips to Como, sometimes a little fuzzy depending on work/client commitments the night before. Kids were visiting grandparents and cousins in California for most of the month, so I really had no excuses to do anything but work, train, eat, and sleep. I know, sounds glamorous, but try it sometime. Loses its luster by about the eight workout.

Next up: the do-or-die month of August...

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