The Aftermath

It's been a week and a half since the triathlon and my body is beginning to forgive me. I learned a lot about things like overtraining and eating right, especially the timing of proper eating. I also lost 10 pounds. I'm still swimming and running, and I'll start biking again this weekend. I'm beginning to develop better eating habits (Believe it or not, triathletes have a different perspective on food than most others. This really hit home the other day in the supermarket when I looked at a package boasting its low carb content and I asked myself, "What's the use of eating it?")

There's a few more triathlons in this region over the summer, but I re-awakened an old injury to my knee, so I'll be taking it slowly. The plan is to get myself ready for next year. I need to change a lot of things in my life, but something that's made me feel this good - even when it made me feel so terrible - is worth it.

Sounds a lot like love, doesn't it?

I got a tremendous amount of research done, not just into the action of the race and the descriptive details of training and scene, but also into some of the philosophical issues that race through your mind when you're running like shit along a pristine trail through the woods with the angriest, biggest, and meanest horse fly in the world chasing you.

Canoeing on the Eel River, John Heinstein and I came up with the idea of a quadrathlon which would include a kayaking event, but I learned the other day that it's already being done in England.

Mostly, I came up with some insights on my own humanity and came into touch with feelings that have been on my life's back burner for much too long. Somewhere along the line, I stopped listening to my body. I stopped taking it seriously. Maybe as I aged, I didn't want to think about my body anymore. I didn't want to know about the newly formed wrinkles and the places where hair was beginning to grow where it had never grown before. The gray creeping into my hair. I didn't want to listen to my body moaning about a lifetime of injuries and abuse.

But while training for the triathlon, I became aware of my body's voice once more, and now I feel like I've rediscovered an old friend.

I have a year to prepare. I'll be a year older. I'll have more gray hair and wrinkles. Hell, I'll probably have hair on my eyeballs. But when I'm standing at the starting line in the midst of that pack of energetic triathletes half (hell again, a third) my age, I'm going to be feeling better than I've ever felt in my life, and though I won't win, my new-found friend and I will be giving the others a run for their money.

I Finished! I'm Still Alive!

On Saturday, I did nothing. Just went to the information session at the Killarney Lake lodge and then vegged out with my daughter. On hindsight, I should have vegged out on Friday as well. But this was a lesson learned.

Yesterday was the day. I had the alarm set for 6 AM. I woke at 4 AM, my head filled with thoughts like: "What if I die?" and "What if I die?" and the old favorite, "What if I die?"

This thought was finally put to rest by the answer, "Then you'll be buried and your enemies will dance on your grave as you drink a cold Corona in heaven."

My legs were sore as hell, attesting to my lack of ears when friends warned me not to over train. I plan to spend the months ahead growing new, sensible ears, ones that inform my brain more intelligently.

I wasn't going to get into the mad mass of swimmers at the beginning of the race because of all the stories I'd heard about kicking and punching and shoving and people swimming right over you, but then I thought: That's part of it. If I want it to be real in the book, then I have to get kicked, punched, shoved and swum over."

I didn't get punched or kicked or swum over, but I did get shoved a few times, and I'm glad I got into the thick of it. I've been swimming at Killarney Lake for years. I've been doing a lot of distance swimming for the last few weeks. I know the lake like the back of my hand.

But when you have over 70 people splashing and swimming like crazy all around you, you're in a completely different world. The water was a huge roiling mass of bubbles and people. Legs appeared before me in the dark water and then disappeared. Bodies swooped in at each side and then shot out of view as they found a path through the mess. I can understand how people can easily panic during the beginning of the swim, and I'm glad that I practiced getting my head up high and pointed back to get air. As the faster swimmers pulled ahead and the slower swimmers fell behind, the swimming became less hectic and I settled into my usual swim mode. I wasn't wearing a wet suit and it was my first triathlon, so I knew that I wasn't going to win. I decided to just enjoy the swim.

(A short note on wet suits. If you don't wear one, you'll feel downright naked on the beach before heading into the water because everybody else will have one on.)

Maybe I was a little too relaxed. I didn't do any sight spotting on the last leg of the second lap and suddenly noticed that the water was disturbingly shallow. I lifted my head and realized that I was swimming right into the beach. It took me a minute or two to get back on track.

The walk from the lake to the transition area was 3 or 4 hundred feet. Later, my daughter informed me that this was supposed to be a run and that I wasn't supposed to slow down and talk to people on the way. Live and learn.

I had things all laid out and ready to go at the transition area but, eerie, I suddenly had two left-handed bicycling gloves ... and I have only one set of gloves. I spent a few minutes trying to solve this mystery before I just pulled the extra left-handed glove on my right hand and got out to the road.

Half-way through the bike course, I realized that the glove on my right hand was in fact a right-handed glove: but it was inside out. Go figure.

I had water and Gatorade on my bike, but I drank only about half the Gatorade and didn't even try to reach all the way back for the water. I had an energy bar and two gel packs taped to the bike (that beautiful wonderful Felt F90 from Savage's Bike Center ... thanks again, Matt). I didn't touch them. But they did make the bike look like it was being ridden by a seasoned pro. :)

Almost as soon as I got on the bike, my hamstrings began to bunch up into their charlie-horse configuration. This was from too much training and not enough rest before the event.

The bike run was grueling, forty kilometers covering three roads, each with their own brand of hell in the form of hills, but the worst was Brookside Drive, a steady uphill climb with steep inclines and long shallow inclines ending with a sharp demonic rise.

I made a few friends along the bike route and the more experienced triathletes yelled words of encouragement as they passed me. "Die, Biff, die!" and "Go home, old man. Drink beer!"

Just kidding.

They yelled things like, "You're doing great!" and "Keep it up." I was so impressed that I yelled the same kind of encouragement to the three people that I passed, one of whom passed me a little later.

I finished the bike run without my hamstrings going into full charlie-horse mode and half-walked, half-ran my bike through the transition area. Cassie yelled out, "I'm so proud of you, Dad!" and I suddenly felt energized enough to finish the transition in running mode.

I noticed that most of the bikes were back. In fact, it looked like they were all back. I wondered if those people I'd passed and yelled encouragement to might have been illusions.

I got into my running stuff and headed straight to the washroom. Did I mention that as soon as I got on my bike a couple hours earlier that I had to pee like crazy? I swear my eyes were turning yellow. It took a few minutes before my plumbing cooperated in the washroom, but it was one of the most relieving experiences in my life.

I'd thought my hamstrings were bad on the bike, but the run brought a whole new dimension of pain. Not only were my hamstrings (one of which was pulled so badly years ago that it put me out of Karate training for half a year) but now my calf muscles were vying for most excruciating centers of pain.

So I kept my pace leisurely and thought about all the beer I was going to drink after the race. As I completed each lap, there were two wonderful girls who handed me my choice of water or Gatorade. I mixed it up just for the hell of it, water this round, Gatorade the next. Unfortunately, they had no beer.

Just beyond them, my beautiful daughter stood by the path taking pictures and yelling out how proud she was of me. On the third time around, it struck me that things had reversed. I used to yell encouragement to her when she was in swimming competitions and tell her how proud I was of her. (Unlike me, she usually finished first.)

What seemed really strange about this is that it's exactly the kind of thing that happens in the novel. In The War Bug, Abner Hayes saves his wife and daughter (who's name just happens to be Cassie and who happens to look and act exactly like my daughter Cassie. What a strange coincidence). In the sequel, Cassie saves her father. Things are reversed in the novel and in real life.

The things you think about when you’re doing your first triathlon.

When I was down to the last stretch, running along the beach with the roof of the lodge (where the finish line was) visible across the lake, I stepped up the pace, hamstrings and calves be damned, because it occurred to me that I was actually going to finish this triathlon and I wasn’t anywhere close to dying. In fact, with the exception of my legs, arms, abdomen, torso, neck, and head … I felt great!

As I came into the finish line, there were still enough spectators left to cheer for me, including Cass, who seemed to be having a hard time deciding weather to take a picture or cheer. Somehow, she managed both.

And get this ... they gave me a medal. Just for finishing! And a wonderful New Balance t-shirt from Fox Subaru and the Tri-Athlete store. And I got to keep my swim cap. There were bagels and subs and Gatorade. And massages, but the line was too long so I just milled around with the crowd, my daughter and my friend Duane, who finished just ahead of me. Duane went back later for a massage later. Can't say I blame him; the women giving them were knockouts.

Later, when I arrived home, there were even emails waiting for me. One from 24/7 author Susan DiPlacido and one from Beth Ashton, who's also going to be in the novel as my daughter’s best friend. They both had the same message: "Die, Biff..."

Naw, they wished me all the best.

One thing I'll have to say about the Duncan Hadley Triathlon ... it's one of the best planned, officiated and engineered events I've ever attended. Everything was laid out sensibly, there was always somebody nearby who could answer questions, the track was laid out and patrolled efficiently, there was no shortage of food and fluids, the orientation session the day before was thorough, registration and sign-up were a breeze, I can't remember any event I've ever attended where the officials, the competitors and the spectators were all so friendly and happy.

Was that more than one thing?

My body felt like hell and it feels only slightly better today, but the triathlon was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I smoked for 39 years before quitting five and a half years ago. A triathlon was always something I could never imagine myself doing, let alone finishing. But I did it.

And I'm gonna do it again next year!

Day Forty-two - Just Two More Days To Go

It's hard to believe. The triathlon's just two more days away, the day after tomorrow. My training's done. I'm ready for it. I did another 2K swim, 20K bike ride and 5K run today. Raced a rabbit at one point and got chased by the world's biggest, nastiest and persistent horsefly at another point. I truly hate those things.

Later in the day, I went back to the lake with Cass and we floated around for a while with capped swimmers churning through the watere all around us. People getting ready for Sunday. Most of them were swimming slowly, splashing instead of reaching. I get the feeling more and more that swimming is the least favorite event in a triathlon.

Tomorrow is the orientation session in the new Killarney Lake lodge. That's about all I'll be doing that's related to Sunday. No workouts, no swimming, no biking, no running. Stretching, yes. But the rest of the day is going to be laying in the sun (weather permitting), mall crawls with my daughter, and in the evening...movies and pizza with Cass and my son, Erik. They're both going to be there to cheer me on. And they'll be wearing War Bug t-shirts with my web site banner on the back. So will I. As a reminder about what got me into this.

But then, I'm glad I did this. I could have just entered the triathlon, skipped the training, and farted around with the bike and run (after all the swimming I did this winter, that would have been a snap in any case). But training regularly for it and taking it seriously has hatched a bag full of ideas for the novel. In fact, the triathlon training along with a canoe trip down the Eel River with John Heinstein, led to a great idea for a twist on the event itself.

And most important, when Sunday rolls around, I won't feel like some half-assed tourist.

And I may even do this again next year. Just for the hell of it.

Day Forty-one - A Little of Everything

Started the day with a 2K swim in wavy water on a wind-swept lake. Didn't get my head back far enough a few times and ended up swallowing lake water. I got Beaver Fever from doing that last year, but it wasn't from the water at Killarney Lake. It was from the Mactaquac head pond. If you want to lose 10 pounds in two weeks, drink lots of untreated water from as many lakes and rivers as you can. But I think diet and exercise would be much less harrowing.

After the swim, I went for a 20K bike ride on the BIKE, the Felt F90. As I swooped in on the hills and glided up them, I couldn't stop thinking: "Thank you, Matt. Thank you. Thank you." I still love my Norco Pinnacle mountain bike, but for speed and on-road tracking, racing bikes are the only way.

I followed the bike ride with a 5K run around the lake. Didn't see a single squirrel or chipmunk today. After the run, I stretched on the beach and did some Tai Chi. And for the rest of the day, it was fun time. I took Cass to the Queen's Square Pool and then to the lake. We swam and sunned. Summer.

Days Thirty-nine and Forty - The Bike, Oh Yes, The Bike

Yesterday was an easy day. Did some upper body work and stretching, but I spent the rest of the day with Cass, and my son, Erik, who dropped by for a couple of days. He's on a team that's going to the Halifax Hoop Up in a couple of weeks. Cass and I watched shooting hoops with a couple of this friends at the park last night. He was awesome. I swear he wrote a few new rules of gravity.

I also picked up the bike (a Felt F10) yesterday from Savage's Bike Center (http://www.sbcoutlet.com/). Matt gave me a few pointers and I took it out for a few spins around the downtown area.

One of the things I appreciated was Matt's honesty. He told me I'd hate it at first. And, yep, that was my first reaction. Something like: "What the...? I'm not flying like the wind. This doesn't feel right. My legs aren't fitting on this right."

But after after a few adjustments, it started to feel better and better.

I took it out on the circuit this morning for a 10K run just to get used to it. It's a beauty to behold and a beauty to ride. All the feelings of alien-ness and awkwardness melted away, and the bike felt like something my legs had always been missing. It didn't try to stop when I came into the hills. I could peddle as fast as I wanted going down the hills without out-peddling the peddles. It tracked like laser. It cornered like light bouncing off a mirror. Once I got used to them, the gears moved smootly and precisely.

I shaved five minutes off my best time on a single lap.

I took it out again later in the evening and shaved off another minute. No, I'm still not going to win this triathlon, but sure as hell don't have any more doubts about finishing.

And I got a few great ideas for the bike part of the virtual triathlon in the novel.

Days Thirty-seven and Thirty-eight - Less Than a Week to Go

It's hard to believe that the triathlon is less than a week away, next Sunday.

I was out at the lake early yesterday for a 2K swim. The water's getting warmer every day. After the swim, I came home and woke Cass (who'd been up till 5 alternately chatting with her friends on MSN and having phone conversations with them) and we had a big breakfast and headed back to the lake with the air mattresses.

During the time we were there I counted three people in the water with wet suits and caps who looked like they were swimming for more that just the sheer thrill of not sinking in the water. There were a few runners as well, dressed out in tri-clothing, and I'm seeing more and more people doing the bike route with racing bikes.

This morning I did a 2K swim, 10K bike ride and 10K run. Halfway through my stretching, a giant horse fly started buzzing all around me. The damn thing wouldn't go away, so I did. There's been a gaggle of crows squaking noisily all day at the lake for the last week. I wish they'd squak less and spend more time eating the horse flies.

Days Thirty-five and Thirty-six - Happy Canada Day!

Got off to a bad start yesterday with a series of unfortunate events, among them forgetting my bike helmet and locking myself out of my car. But I got in a 10K run and I had the lake all to myself, except for a big brown rabbit. Came across some bear tracks. I've heard of bear sightings at Killarney Lake, but seeing those tracks made the stories real...and made me think twice about some of the strange noises I've heard in the woods that I chalked off to overweight deer.

I did some stretching after the run and headed home to make pancakes for Cass and her friend Ashley who was sleeping over for the last few days. Then we went across the river (Fredericton is divided in half by the Saint John River)and checked out some of the Canada Day events. In the evening, there were fireworks.

This morning, I was at the lake early. It was cool and overcast, so I passed on the swim and went for a 20K bike ride and 5K run. The bear tracks were still clear but it didn't look like there were any new ones.

Cass and I spent most of the afternoon at the Queen's Square outdoor pool. That's where Judith lifeguards. She's swimming on a team that's going into the sprint event. I'm starting to meet more and more people who are in the triathlons and duathlons next weekend (good lord, it's next weekend!) and I'm starting to look at anyone with a bike or running shoes suspiciously and ask myself: "Sprint, full Olympic or duathlon?"

Time to head out now for a BBQ at my muse's place. That's Joanne Callahan. She's the muse in Still Life with Muse and Sax, probably the funniest story I've written. Jo is a ball-busting bitch of a muse in the story, which is exactly the opposite of what she is in real life.

BTW, got the bike page up with a pic of the bike at: http://www.biffmitchell.com/Triathlon/The_Bike/the_bike.html