About an hour after I finished, my wife posed the obvious question: How did the triathlon compare with a marathon? Best I can answer is that it’s just different.
The Luray International Triathlon–an Olympic distance event (1500m swim/41km bike/10k run)–was certainly grueling, but it wasn’t as much of a grind as a marathon. It was a lengthy test of physical fitness, but somehow didn’t come with the sense of accomplishment of a marathon. Did it feel good to finish? Of course, but it also felt about the same as a well-run half-marathon, rather than a full marathon.
That’s not to take anything away from the Luray Triathlon, which was one of the best organized, friendliest events I’ve ever taken part in, and that’s saying something. From registration, through the constant communication about the race, to the packet pickup, which let me shift from an ‘age group’ division to a novice division suited to first-timers like me, through the race morning and completion, it was really top notch. The course was superb, apart from having to loop the bike and run courses twice (which I understand to be relatively common in triathlons, where space is at a premium). Even the race photos are free (wish that was true of every race). I thoroughly enjoyed it and plan to be back next year.
The race morning was an early wake-up call, as my family and I camped in the Shenandoah’s, rather than more sensibly in a hotel in Luray. It was not the best pre-race rest, but the kids enjoyed it, which made it worth it. The 40ish minute drive down from the mountain to Arrowhead Lake was glorious, with early morning sun breaking over the peaks in the distance.
Upon arrival, the parking was organized and not far from the start. It was about 65 degrees, which warranted a sweatshirt until it was race time, but dragging my bike and all of my triathlon gear over to the transition area was enough to warm me up. That’s by far one of the biggest differences between running and triathloning (sp?)–there’s SO MUCH stuff for the triathlon. Bike, helmet, shoes, socks, glasses, towel, belt for the number, number for bike and helmet, gels, water bottle…not to mention the stuff that is stored on my bike, such as an extra tube and inflator (CO2). I ended up forgetting my gels, which didn’t cause too much of a concern, because I had an excellent pit crew (Mrs. and kids), so I could pick it up after the swim from them.
That’s another benefit of the triathlon over the marathon: it’s much more spectator-friendly. They could just park in one place in the shade and see me start the swim, finish the swim, head out on my bike, return on the bike, and set out for the run. They could have seen me six or seven times during the race if they were able to figure out the course, which is impossible on most marathon courses. It was great to have them there and certainly helped my time!
The swim makes most people the most nervous. The way they managed it, with everyone starting in the water in waves (no pun intended) was simple. We started off 3 minutes apart from each other, and as a novice, my small group was in the back of the pack. The water was above 80, so no wetsuit for anyone. Not a problem as I don’t have one anyway.
The first swimmer came back in under 21 minutes, which meant we got to see her just finish before our time came to go. I set out with the herd, and stayed to the outside to ensure I wasn’t getting in anyone’s way. I felt fast out of the gate, but consciously slowed a bit to find a sustainable rhythm. I caught the group before us before the first of 4 turns (three right and one left). Sighting the turn buoys was by far the hardest part of this, my first open water competitive swim, but I found that by staying to the outside, I could make a clear path to the buoy and just keep driving, without having to turn much to get around the corners.
The finish came up faster than I was expecting, and I felt strong–skipping steps up to the transition area and grabbing the gels from the Mrs. en-route. Transition was slow for me as I put my running shoes (and socks) on there before the bike. Sticky socks on wet, grassy feet…ew. In any case, I made it–even remembering to double-knot my shoes–and remembered my helmet and glasses and off I went. Running with a bicycle, if you haven’t tried it, is a rather unnatural thing to do. Thankfully, I was near the exit of the transition for the bike leg, so I didn’t have far to go until I cross the “mount bike here” line and hopped on.
The bike leg also seemed to go pretty well. I had set a pre-race target of 1:30 for that leg, which requires a 17mph pace. What threw me the most was that the course seemed almost all up-hill. Of course, that’s not the case, as any course that meets back at the start must, by definition, have the same up and down elevations, but you cover the downhill parts so quickly that relative to the uphills, they go MUCH faster. The worst part of the course is a nasty steep half-mile in the approach to the finish that nearly broke me in bottom gear. It was a killer and told me that, if I ever want to do this again, I need more hill training.
In any case, I finished, hooked my bike back on the rail in the transition area, and had the 5th fastest transition of the entire field. Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone could have done it faster than I did as I was ready to get running apart from clipping my bib on and grabbing my cap –performed while moving. That’s one advantage of wearing running shoes on the bike (likely the only one).
So, in theory, this should be where I dominate. I run all the freakin’ time. I ran a marathon last month (the second of three, this year). I run trail 10Ks. What I don’t do, apparently, is run races after completing an hour and half on a bike. My legs were like jelly. There was no energy. My muscles were barely firing. I “ran” a 9:00ish mile pace for the first 2 miles or so and could feel the muscles right above my knee start ratcheting toward a cramp with every step. I had to jog/walk the rest of the way, resulting in the slowest 10k I’ve completed in 7+ years. It was awful, but there was no choice in the matter–my legs were cramped and only injury awaited if I pushed too hard.
I finished the race 10 minutes slower than my overall goal time and felt good about my accomplishment–my first triathlon in the books. I ended up getting second place in the Novice group, picking up medal and a nice locally-made pottery tumbler in the process. The food was decent, though there was lots of bottled (cold) water and gatorade at the finish…much appreciated.
Overall, I really enjoyed it…more fun than a marathon, though less of a feeling of accomplishment at the end. I’ll almost surely be back next year, and now that I know what to expect, I’m setting a 30-minute target off of my 2017 time. It’s there for the taking if I can take 2-4 minutes off my swim time, 10-15 minutes off my bike time, and 11-20 minutes off my running time. All feasible with a bit more training.
I can’t recommend this race enough for a first timer or for a seasoned vet. Again, everyone was so nice and helpful to a true novice. It was just a great all-around experience and has opened my eyes to adding 1-2 triathlons of this distance to my annual calendar.