Okay, this isn't one of those long-standing, 100 year old, never to be broken sports curses, but somewhere around the end of last summer some triathlon voodoo priest put a hex on me or something because the racing just wasn't going well. Had a DNF in September at a half-ironman in Durham, NC, got lost on the bike course at a duathlon in Cary, NC in March, and on my way to parking the car for a sprint race in Raleigh, NC in April I forgot my bike was on the roof rack and wrecked it pulling into a parking garage.
So this past weekend, the Jetton Park sprint triathlon was going to be much more than a test of fitness or racing ability--it was going to be a test of whether I was doomed for life, or must mildly superstitious. Conditions for a successful run were ideal. Because the venue was only a 15 minute drive from our NC home, I was able to do packet pick-up and ride the bike course Friday evening and then plan for a relatively leisurely wake-up time, still allowing plenty of time to get set up at the race site.
The morning was warm, if a bit windy making the lake swim look a little intimidating. The water was a nice 74 degrees and I opted not to don my wetsuit for the 750 swim. I'm not sure what that sweet spot is in terms of time gained swimming in a wetsuit versus time lost in transition, but I figured that this swim was short enough that I would be pounding away on the bike while everyone else was squirming their way out of neoprene.
For a small race, it was a well-attended event with about 350 athletes competing. Promptly at 8:00 a.m. the first wave was off into the chop. Six minutes later, it was my turn to hit the water. The wind was making the water a bit rough, but not unmanageable, and within the first 100 yards I had found some daylight near the front of the swim pack. I was also pleased that I was swimming in a fairly straight line, sighting the buoys without too much trouble. Coming into the first turn on the triangular course I had caught some of the stragglers from the previous wave. Twelve and a half minutes later I was out of the water and moving up the beach to T1.
The large number of bikes still sitting in transition told me that I was near the front of my group. I quickly grabbed my bike and helmet and headed out onto the bike course.
Now, I may have been a bit too hasty putting on that helmet because it just was not sitting on my head properly. I tried fixing it on the fly, but no dice. Finally I just forgot about it, figuring that for the short 20k bike course I could be a little uncomfortable. The course meandered around the Peninsulas jutting into Jetton Lake and was pretty fast. Not pancake flat, but mostly flat with a few slight rollers. The only downside to the course was that, at two points, you had to make these ridiculous turns in a cul-de-sac, which is just never fun. I also had no computer so could not judge my time or speed very well but I pulled into T2 about 34 minutes later. So far, so good--no broken swim goggles, no catastrophic bike failures.
Of course, I made the great move of parking my rear wheel on top of my running shoes, socks and race belt, which slowed me up in transition. But, about a minute later I was out on the bike course which looped and twisted its way through some paved trails running along the park roads before heading out the main road a bit. While billed as a 5k, this was a very generous 5k course (probably more like a 5.5k). After 21 minutes of running I found my way to the finish line coming in at just under 1 hour 10 minutes.
Later, when the results were posted, I learned that I had finished 9th overall and had won my age group. So, it's official. The curse is broken. Of course, it's only May so now I need to find some more races to do.
