This is Nathanael Singer and myself, right after arriving at our hosts' home.Bikes are assembled, and the Team USA uniforms seem to fit.
Hopefully, we don't get beat up...
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OK, if you recognize those John Denver lyrics, you're OLD. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Writing the first part of this from seat 59A, Qantas flight Q16, bound for Brisbane in Queensland, Australia. The last days leading up to Thursday's departure were predictably frantic (mostly work stuff, getting team uniforms screened with sponsor's logos, etc.) but I got to L.A. in time to meet with a new client and jump in the ocean for a quick surf. Friday was for gathering bikes that had been shipped to Southern California ahead of time, and picking up my traveling companions, my lifelong friend Nathanael, and my father Jim (both of whom had qualified for the race with me at nationals.)
Nate had a special treat for us before we boarded our flight: an intimidating swim workout at the University of Irvine with the Masters Swim Program, comprised of current and post-university swimmers, water polo players, and a few high-caliber triathletes. I picked the slowest lane available and slogged my way through 2000 meters of fast intervals, relieved to finish the session without barfing in their beautiful pool. We packed ourselves with food and headed to the airport, knowing the combination of workout/food would facilitate sleep on at least part of the 13-hour flight.
I love picking out the athletes on the flight to a big race. Tight-lipped, decked out in national team colors, bottles of water at the ready, and all donning the latest in post-workout/travel technical gear: "compression skins," a sort of support socks that stimulate circulation and prevent blood and lactic acid from pooling in one's major muscle groups. Positively the stupidest-looking thing you could wear on a flight (next to a fanny pack and the socks & sandals combo favored by most traveling Americans.) Imagine my horror as Nate presented me with a brand new pair of such socks. Being the paranoid and gear-obsessed athlete I am, I immediately put them on (under my cowboy boots, so I wouldn't have to make fun of myself.) I also wore no hint of any team paraphernalia, electing instead to anonymously mingle among the rigid Type-A's who were now comparing recent races, dietary theories, and the various colors those revolutionary compression socks come in. I was smug in my incognito boots, jeans, and t-shirt, though my weathered epidermis gave me away as someone who has spent a little too much time outside recently.
How do you lose a day? I mean, I understand the whole date-line thing, but we traveled for 13 hours in the dark, essentially chasing a setting sun, and arrived in Brisbane having completely skipped September 5. Our host, Dr. Andrew Peacock, picked us up at the airport and drove us 90 minutes to Noosa, a ways north of the actual race site city of Gold Coast (My father headed straight to GC to settle into a resort near the race; Nate and I will join him Wednesday.) Andrew, and his wife Sabina, are the perfect hosts for our race trip. He is an emergency room doctor and professional photographer (www.footloosephotography.com) and she is a retired ballerina, and current rock climber and massage therapist. She is a walking physical example of those three skills, and they are both annoyingly fit. We are staying at their sleek, modern home in the beach town of Noosa, and we started the stay with a big breakfast and a swim at Noosa Heads Beach. A little eye-opening, for me, to be back in big swells and rip currents, but the basic survival skills come back quickly as I am swept down the coast. The only really disconcerting thing is the shark nets located about 400 meters off shore. I ask Andrew if they're really necessary, and if they work. His response sounds like he has a vested interest in promoting good tourism...
Just finished putting our bikes together. We are supposed to surf with friends this afternoon. Some of you may be wondering why we are not completely focused on final preparations for the race, our every thought turned towards maximizing performance a week from today. Let me remind you that I was one of the last guys to qualify in my age-group, and that my previous performances at World Championships have netted me a 62nd and 59th place (out of 80 to 100 in my division.) So if meticulous fine-tuning gains me a minute or two, I might move up to...50th? I think the 12,000 mile trip deserves a richer experience than stretching and hydrated in a hotel room in Australia's version of Miami Beach (as Gold Coast is described by our hosts.) I will stretch while picking up waves, and I will hydrate with local brews (at least part of the time.) We'll dial it back the day or two before the race, but I believe that the training really was done two weeks ago (physiologically, you gain nothing in the last 15 days. This message is sponsored by Foster's Lager...)
Besides, dear reader, do you want to read about the latest gadgets, training principles, and pre-race jitters, or do you want the experience of the average athlete getting the most out of one of the "fittest places on earth"?
Forward this to someone you know who likes weird events, kids, and getting the most out of every day; we're a little short of our goal of $10,000 for Youth Homes (I have faith in you, we'll get it,) and I would love to report that we got hundreds of small donations, rather than a few big ones. That being said, a HUGE thank you to those of you who kicked in this week. Despite my description of our extra-curricular activities, I plan on leaving my very soul out on the race course come Saturday. Promise.
Cheers,
Jeremy
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