USAT Club Nationals. PumpkinMan Tri. Vegas Baby

All good stories have some good back stories and this is a good story. Michael and ! were nearly to the mousetrap heading to DIA when Jeff Carroll called to tell us to bring rain gear. Vegas was getting drenched and Jeff had just woken up in a casino parking garage. Michael beat me through security, but w/ an asterisk in the results. Some of the officials led him off course to what turned out to be a significant short cut while ! had to go the full distance race. We met up w/ Heidi at the gate.

Two hours later our pilot greased the landing at LAS. Luggage, lunch and get in line for the rental car. The line was slow. Michael and Heidi went and shopped the other rental places. ! had the best deal. Mid-size car w/ bike rack. 3 days. $44. Onto the shuttle to the lot and there it was. No bike rack. We had 3 bikes to tote. ! went back in and loosed the charm. Bing bam we were upgraded to a minivan free. Heidi dubbed it the “mommy mobile” so ! drove it like a mother. Haulin’ ass to race check-in we divided up the car duties and really gelled as a team. Michael was in charge of climate control. ! pushed on the gas pedal and babbled incessantly. From the back seat, Heidi kept an eye out for obstacles.

Check in was by T2. T1 was several miles away on the banks of Lake Mead. The drill went like this. Find your number on the list and tell the volunteer bag lady. This is where ! met Cindy. She was #3539. That got her quizzical glances since everybody else had 3-digit numbers. ! told her ! could take a guess at her age group and laughter ensued. ! just digressed. !’ll regress now. Two bags. Load T2 stuff into one and hang it on the bike racks with 900 matching bags. Then into the tent to get signed in and see the haberdashers. The t-shirts look good. Too bad it’s cotton. ! had some EAS and a bottle. There was no water to be found. Just one sink hiding next to the park’s grill. ! probably should have looked in that bottle before ! packed it. Perhaps the NV warmth would jump start the penicillin production. This is where we met up with a few others from the team.

Mad Matt had suggested looking at the course profile http://www.bbscendurancesports.com/pumpkinman.html It is appropriately scary for Halloween. Over the last 8 miles of the ride we would gain about 1,300’. Then run at that higher altitude. 2,551’ is still less than 1/ 2 the altitude of Denver.

Train low. Sleep high. We drove down the last few miles of the bike course going to the hotel. Nancy was plotting ways to have a mechanical as close to the bottom as possible. Deb was whether it would be faster to ride or walk and ! was just glad we would be traversing the gravel on the road at 7 mph instead of 40 (50 if you didn’t ride the brakes) going the wrong way. No doubt this was going to be a long, hard ride. Jeff Carroll and Jamie were at the hotel with the bikes. We had to download them to adjust and take a quick ride. DHL finally managed to get Heidi’s rig to a race before race day. No front skewer though. ! had a spare in my tool box. We hit the road into the park. 40 mph down to the gate. Dusk was floating down around us and we had a mile and a half climb to get back up to the busy 2-lane highway for the last ½ mile home. ! slept in the hypoxic chamber to boost my blood. Way up on the 14th floor and cig smoke as a bonus.

We hit the buffet for the team dinner. They split us into 2 tables. Edwin, his wife and 2 sons along with Charley and Michael sat at the grown-up table discussing world affairs and training strategies in somber tones. Tim, Jeff, Deb, Nancy, Jamie, Heidi and myself were at the other table. We propounded on Texan skier fashion, mashed potatos and the broncos and made crude jokes about chicken BREASTS and Swedish meatBALLS. All in slightly less somber tones.

That 5am PST wake up call came remarkably early. First wave would start churning at 7. Fourth and last wave at 7:45. There was a long line of cars at the park gate. The $5 park fee was not included in the entry fee for the most expensive short event of the season. And my only ca$h was in the very back of the mommy mobile. Behind the bikes.

T1 was on the boat ramp and parking was at a premium. There were bike racks for 850 of the 900 bikes. And every rack looked the same. That other bag from yesterday? IF you could find your bike after the swim, you must stuff your wetsuit and all gear into the bag before starting the ride. Otherwise it wouldn’t be brought up to the finish to be picked up after shuttling back down to get the car to drive back up to get the swim gear. The only landmark in T1 was the big pothole.

Just as we got bikes racked the ridges along the far side of the lake lost control of the morning sun. Glorious rays pierced the cloudless sky. Pinks and purple fading into blue. Just enough light came over and crawled down the West side to highlight the strata. That is why GOD gave us eyes. And Colorado. Wow! It was truly going to be a gorgeous day.

The swim start was 100 yards across the gravelly beach without shoes. There were no megaphones (too risky with Charley around) and almost no instructions (to avoid misunderstandings). Just a cannon shot. ! watched the swim exit until just after wave 3 started then made my way to the start. ! talked to Steve Pye then moved to waist deep. Make sure your wet suit is filled with water when you pee. A full bladder really holds a lot and can warm a disturbingly broad surface under neoprene. ! found Edwin out shoulder deep. No one seemed to care. We looked at his watch at 5 minutes before the start. That was the only warning. Then the cannon.

! was out deeper than most of the field and right in the middle. It was just like a hockey game (or a wake). When you get into that stuff swim with strong strokes. Use your arms to defend your head. Keep your feet up so drafters will avoid running up over you. Don’t look for an open spot. Make one. ! think ! did ~33 minutes.

Transition went much smoother than anticipated. No stray gravel found it’s way under my heels and ! did find my bike. It was a long uphill run in road shoes. Still ! passed a guy in MTB shoes. Past the mount line it was uphill to the park road. Then North deeper into the park. ! saw Steve Pye again. He was DNFing. He had been hurling all night.

That road went up and down. For rollers they weren’t too bad. The temperature was nearly 50 degrees cooler than last time ! rode there. (July 3, 2001 on the bike tour. 118* http://2001abikeodyssey.blogspot.com/ ). ! nearly caught one of the Sprint girls at the short course turnaround. The hammer was down. When ! saw Michael he was about 2.2 miles ahead. He had a 7 minute lead out of the water. He was prey now. There were appetizers in between. Laura was just ahead as ! approached the turn-around. Not for long. ! pushed the pace when it was faster than tucking in and coasting. ! had to make up here some of the time ! would lose on the climb. That climb started easy and steepened gradually. The grade change was nearly imperceptible. By the time ! hit the highway ! had been dicing with a lady from Phoenix Tri Club. Time for psych-ops. ! told her ! learned to read using hooked on Phoenix. That slowed her down a bit. Then the climb got steeper. We were off the highway and onto the last big climb. The one that frightened us in the mommy mobile. The steepest section and ! still had 3 cogs left. Avenue I was there faster than ! had dared to dream. That was our morale landmark. The grade eased a lot there and then topped out before the final downhill block.

T2 was a block long and every bag looked the same. Racks were assigned by numbers and signs were on the ends. ! had my number belt wrapped around my bag and the leg of the rack. Right on the end. ! found it. Changing went well. A photographer came over to take some shots and ask questions. ! ran the 2nd half of T2 in running shoes. ! was feeling a little foot pain like usual. ! kept going. It would either subside or get unbearable. Half a block to the 1st / last corner. That’s where the whole team was. All but 4 of us did the sprint so they were all finished. ! had some big dude on my shoulder. Charley told him he was ugly. ! denied knowing Charley, but told him he really was ugly (all guys are). He decided he didn’t want to be friends and sprinted away. ! kept going. The hooked on Phoenix girl caught up to me. We chatted mostly to keep oxygen away from her legs. At half a mile she cramped. ! wonder if that had anything to do with the long ride up the steep hills in the high desert with no bottle hand-ups. There were no fluids anywhere on the course except the run aid stations. They had Gatorade and water. One even had some tiny banana pieces. There was bottled water at the finish if you could find it. It’s a damn good thing it was a bitterly cold day for Vegas.

! wanted to run at least to the first aid station. ! could tell some of my fibers were in pre cramp mode. The whole ugly guy incident distracted me from the foot pain and it too subsided. It was just enough to notice. ! made the first mile and walked just far enough to drink some Gatorade. Made it to station 2. another ½ mile we turned onto the dirt road. It had more ups and downs, but still not bad and ! was still running. After the 3rd station we hit the steep decent. It was a bit loose and some rocks big enough to trip over. Because of the terrain and fatigue ! couldn’t really push the pace down. At the bottom was the turnaround and that meant we had to run all the way back up. ! walked about half of it. Laura was just a little behind me walking. ! started to run. She started to run. Just past the top we were diverted and she got by me. By now ! was uncertain about how far ! had gone. Back on the blacktop they were saying a mile to go. ! asked a volunteer what time it was. He chased me for a block trying to read his phone. 10:14. That meant ! was 2:29 with about 1 km to go. ! was looking for a 2:40 time. That would mean a 30 minute 10k. ! didn’t have enough to calculate that or even to doubt it. ! know now that it must have been 10:44 instead.

Press on nonetheless. ½ a mile to go and an LA Clydesdale passed me. Not too fast. ! matched his pace until ! was closer and then started sneaking up on him. ! could see the team waiting on the same corner. ! was closing the gap. He heard my breathing and started accelerating. They were yelling. He couldn’t hear me anymore. He knew he was in danger. ! moved left to take the corner on the inside. We had ½ a block to go. He hit the gas. Shoulder to shoulder. He was at max speed. Could ! eke out another 1/10 mph? ! was still rubbing up against the back of his shoulder. He had the advantage. He moved all the way left by the cone. ! had to take a short step to cut in behind him. We were on the carpet. He was carrying his momentum and ! was sprinting back up to speed. Most of the LA tri team (one of the biggest in the country) was cheering for him. RMTC was cheering for me. The noise must have been deafening. ! didn’t hear anything. The volunteers at the end of the chute moved over as far as they could. There wasn’t really a gap. !’ve won sprints before. Not this one. He got to the fence and stopped. ! don’t make allowances for stopping. It’s not part of the race. Clydesdales are softer than metal fences. It was a hug. As much of a hug as 2 big, sweaty guys not in the late rounds of a title fight will share. It was Michael Schiepke. He beat me by 1 second overall. His run was 7:30 faster. ! beat him on EVERY other split. Swim, bike, both transitions.

Deb thinks he cheated. If he did it on purpose he knows. What ! know is this. ! went after the last guy in front of me. ! poured out everything ! had left in that sprint. ! forced him to push as hard as he could. He suffered because of me. If he cheated he’ll always wonder if he really could have beaten me. That will hurt. The other thing ! know is ! missed another flashing. This time by the whole team. Just the girls ! hope.

Charley got 13th overall and won his age group. The 2 oldest guys that beat him were at least 15 years younger. Jeff Carroll won his age group. Michael got 3rd. Edwin lost his chip in T1 and wasted 10 minutes looking for it. He still beat me. 10 minutes faster would have gotten him 10th place. Getting splits isn’t that important. If the race director can’t get you placed manually he’s not organized enough to get your money next time. Every RMTC finished. There were lots of DNFs. Fluids and food should have been out there. ! was racing on gut. Good thing !’ve been archiving beer and ice cream. We got 2nd in the team category for our weight class. ! beat Charley’s bike pace by 1.1 mph and Jeff’s by 1.2 mph over twice the distance. Pay no attention to certain technicalities.

Race over it was hot tub time. Team championships are in St. Louis next year. We discussed sharing a bus with beer and Greeley Tri Club. After cleaning up it was off to the Strip to see the Broncos punish the raiders for being slow and weak. Then a walk down the strip to see the sights. Michael had never been and he was properly amazed. Some of us hadn’t gotten enough racing in. Luck (always around in Vegas) was with the civilians out there. Every stairway was a race. There were guys on the sidewalks handing out trading cards for the women’s “stretching” team. The best ones would slap the cards on their arms before giving them to you. Jeff Carroll had beer in his pocket. He and Tim vanished and reappeared with margaritas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. They peed a lot.

Once we got bored we headed back to the hotel/casino in Boulder City. We got back in time for both fights. Deb saw the under card and it sounded way better than the main event. Drinks thrown. Security wrestling. Recriminations. Then one of the guys playing blackjack with Charley and Jamie had an issue with the dealer. Security suggested he take all his alcohol back to his room. His room was 2 down from mine. He left with friends and met a cop.


Here are the people who competed - Sprint: Jamie White, Heidi Wilson, Debra Cady, Nancy Waggoner, Charley Perez, Jeff Carroll, Tim Woods, Shawn McChesney,
Intermediate: Doug!!, Edwin Ooms, Michael DeSeguin, Matt Steinberg