Love Thy Competition

Sunday morning at 7AM I sat on the 95th Street pier jutting out in to the Hudson River, thinking I knew how the NYC Triathlon/ParaTriathlon National Championship was about to unfold. The only one-legged man to ever beat me in a triathlon was sitting 15 feet to my right, five years older than he was when we last raced. That’s only meaningful because that makes him 50, presumably a bit slower that he used to be. However, his comment just minutes before we entered the water, strategically placed perhaps, that he just won the 50-54 age-group (able-bodied) at Brazil’s National Championships left me thinking he hasn’t lost too much.

Historically, he’s always buried in the swim and it’s a flip who’d beat who on the bike and run. This year I figured swimming with the current would deflate his lead some and perhaps I could better him on both the bike and run and we’d have an exciting sprint to the finish.

My 16:34 swim was solid and I came out not too far behind him, in stride with Jeff Glasbrenner and just a few seconds in front of J.P. Theberge, who’s been creeping closer and closer to my finish times over the past several years. For the first time in our many matchups, I was in transition along side Rivaldo, who took longer than I would expect to get out on the bike.

As I’m leaving T1, my aero bottle was all but falling out of its holder, which required me to stop and waste about 30 extremely frustrating seconds trying to fix it. I knew if I didn’t I might potentially suffer far worse losses from dehydration. In the meantime Rivaldo pulled away and both J.P. and Jeff joined me simultaneously in the chase. This was shaping up to be an exciting race. Never before have the first two, never mind the first four BKs, been so close to each other in any world-class triathlon, ever.

In the 12 miles that took us out to Yonkers, I relinquished about five seconds to Rivaldo. After the turnaround I didn’t see J.P. coming the other way, but presumed I had been opening up the gap as he has yet to match me on the bike. No sooner do I wonder just how far back he is, when he passes me! I was sincerely impressed and sincerely appreciate the competition. Rivaldo remained in our sites as the two of us exchanged leads over the next few miles.

Then he opened up a gap that kept getting bigger. His slightly inefficient body English told me he was working very hard, harder than me, it seemed. I didn’t have too much more power to provide and I opted to let him go and chase both him Rivaldo down on the run, which has been pretty good to me lately.

I entered transition after a 1:08:06 ride (not my fastest nor my slowest of my six consecutive NYC Tri’s) as JP exited and was out about five seconds behind Rivaldo when crossing the T2 exit mat (like in T1, he wasn’t so speedy in T2). I passed him before too long and kept up the best pace I could—not a terribly fast one but the best I could muster. Even on 72nd St, where athletes could see a good stretch in front of them, I didn’t see JP and wondered just how fast the guy was running!

Along that stretch the four inch long rubber tread on my run prosthesis became nearly completely unglued and was flapping underfoot, not tripping me but on every step it would drag across the pavement, and occasionally I’d step on it as it folded underneath, leaving me terribly frustrated. Beside the course I saw my prosthetist and Amy Winters, our Team A Steap Ahead manager, about a mile later. I barked out my issue hoping they might have an answer. A couple minutes later Amy pulled up next to me on her mountain bike, pulled a couple hair bands out of her ponytail and temporarily secured my tread. That only took 15-20 seconds and I was right back in the hunt. (I acknowledge that this would be considered “outside assistance,” reason for disqualification under USA Triathlon rules, I believe. If anyone reports me, so be it.)

Some of you might recall that in T2 of the last triathlon I raced, I forgot to switch my bike liner for a fresh run liner and PR’d the latter discipline. This gave me all the reason I needed to purposefully forgo the liner change in pursuit of J.P. Whether or not replacing it would have made a difference I really don’t know, but the leg got a bit lose and Stumpy began to moan about Mile 3, and I didn’t stop until Mile 4 for a reboot. Nice big pink open blister looked up at me. With the liner and leg back on securely I got back at it. By Mile 5 I had to stop momentarily for a leg dangle as both the blister and gimp-side calf cramp called for it. I hadn’t seen J.P. in a couple of the longer stretches I could see in Central Park and all but bowed out of the quest for first. Just then Rivaldo passed me, which gave me all the motivation I needed to tough out that last mile as fast as I could.

My 46:27 run (again, I’ve gone both faster and slower here…and I was expecting something faster) was almost two minutes slower than J.P. and I crossed the line 20 seconds ahead of Rivaldo.

The close battle with my former nemesis—seems I’ve got a new one now—was very much expected. Getting schooled by J.P. was a little bit of a surprise, but not totally. The man’s been strong since he entered the scene several years ago and has been getting faster every race. And every ear I hear “J.P.’s fit and looking fast this year.” I believe we last raced in 2007 when I got him by a 13 minutes.

So, all due respect Champ, but it wasn’t you I was worried about. I can honestly say that I’m impressed as hell by your commitment and dedication to training—with a real job and three kids—with the goal of taking that top spot. Furthermore, I appreciate the fire you’ve stoked not only under me but also my wife who has just granted me two hours of training each day to catch you at Worlds on September 12!

PS - I’d like to thank Affinia Hotels for providing phenomenal accomodations for my family over the weekend.