Whaling City Tri & Du
New Bedford, MA - July 2019 - 3rd OA
I call this my “breakout race.” As my training progressed in 2019, I began to wonder how far I could go in this sport and to what degree I was willing to push my body. Race morning came in the middle of a heat wave, with temps hovering just shy of 100 degrees and off the charts humidity. This combination frequently made me pass out or throw up when I was younger, but I’ve since learned the importance of hydration and bumping up electrolyte consumption to keep myself functional. This race promised to be flat and fast and, based on times from the last several years, I knew a perfect race would put me in contention for my first overall podium.
Swim
The age-old debate: wetsuit or swimskin? I’m still not sure what the correct call is for a wetsuit legal race, but, given my strong swimming background, I opted for the swmskin. The time benefit from a wetsuit over 400 yards didn’t seem worth the extra time in T1. I joined the other elites (for the first time!) on the start line and eagerly waited for the gun to go off. I was a bit too eager, perhaps… I took off so fast that I ended up falling flat on my face in the sand… in front of the entire rest of the field. A quick sense check told me I was fine and I quickly got to work in the ocean. By the first turn, I had moved into second place and continued gaining on the leader in the back half of the course. I soon hit sand and made my way up the hill into T1.
T1
T1 is a relatively long jaunt from the ocean and, given the heat, I was glad I opted for my swimskin. It quickly came off and I began my too-long process of drying off my feet, putting socks on, and slipping into my bike shoes. I donned my helmet, grabbed my bike, and set off.
Bike
I knew I was in second, but I didn’t know who in front of me I was chasing or if the people that passed me were Tri or Duathlon folks. The one drawback of Whaling City is that the Duathlon starts at the same time as the swim and the first discipline time advantage goes to the duathletes. The bike course consists of two 5.5 mile loops. Each loop goes out along the coast, turns around a city block to go back towards transition, then cuts to the other side of the inlet. Riders then turn right to go up the coast, hit a 180 degree turn, and head back for lap 2/transition. As it turned out, one elite athlete passed me on each of the laps, but my eyes were mostly focused on my coach. He had started in the BTT wave 2 minutes behind me and is a serious uberbiker… and a serious runner (current world record holder of the Antarctica Marathon and multiple Boston marathon finisher). Based on a track session we had done together, I knew that as long as he didn’t get too close to me on the bike, I would have a chance of holding him off on the run or, as it turned out, making up the time deficit. I entered T2 on the heels of who I suspected now held 3rd place and still in front of my coach.
T2
Despite needing to tie my shoes (lock laces and a flying bike mount would have put me second OA with an outside shot at 1st), I had a respectable T2 and entered the run course at a 5:45 pace.
Run
As I hit the small hill en route to the water (the run course loops along the coast), I decided to dial the pace back to just over 6:00 to stave off a blowup. It was hot, I was tired, and the run offered no shade. Down the road, I could tell 3rd place (my now friend Chris) was running slightly slower than me and saw that second place was hurting. The run course doubles back on itself just after a mile and Chris and I both moved up a spot by that point. After the turn around I continued to chip away at Chris’s lead bit by bit and saw three of my teammates digging deep on their way through the first mile as I did so. I passed Chris just prior to mile 2, where the course moves into a completely exposed park. It felt like the asphalt was trying to bake my feet. I managed to hold my pace consistent and finally glimpsed first place. I didn’t quite have the energy or mental fortitude to push for him, so I resorted to silently willing him to slow down. It didn’t work… he crossed the finish line 30 seconds in front of me. I arrived at the finish line totally spent. I made a beeline for the shade and coolness of the ice bath as soon as my timing chip came off.
As it turned out, my coach overtook me on the bike (time-wise, not physically). Despite posting the only sub-20-minute 5k of the day, my run performance wasn’t enough to make up the deficit and I finished mere seconds behind him. I’m surprisingly grateful for this. I got a taste for life on the podium while being reminded that I still have a lot of work to do and dues to pay in this sport. I’ll get you next year, Billy!
