This past weekend (June 8 – 10, 2007) saw two TOMs (TOM-a-Lot and TOMasz) take on the Eagleman 70.3 in Cambridge, Maryland, and I took up the tasks of team documentarian, chef, concierge, and cheerleader. As always the race experience was invaluable but I think some of the most invaluable triathlon lessons were learned en route to Cambridge. The race weekend began on the evening of the Friday before (the 8th) when TOM-a-Lot and TOMasz arrived in Wilmington to spend the night at the
old DuPont estates (yes, that DuPont) before heading off to Maryland the following morning. Race preparation began immediately and I think that both TOMasz and I had our definitions of "pre-race fueling" redefined. The plan was to go with a large pasta dinner, which we had. TOM-a-Lot added his own special touch to his plate: a massive bacon cheeseburger. Was there method behind this madness? Time would tell. The evening concluded with a pleasant stroll along the Brandywine River, through the original DuPont gunpowder mills, and some cinema that gave us our first invaluable triathlon lesson learned: One must choose which Rocky movie they watch two nights before the race very carefully.Saturday, the day before the race, was filled with the usual day-before stuff to do. The drive down to Cambridge was relatively painless and TOMasz was very good about putting up with an incessant stream of inane chatter from the front seat while he tried to read in the back. Upon arriving in Cambridge, a lovely seaside town, we learned the second invaluable triathlon lesson of the weekend: It is not enough to know how to get to the town, directions to the race venue itself are equally important.
We managed to get directions from some race-bound tent squatters outside a local high school and found ourselves at the registration site and expo fairly quickly. The setup was impressive with a lot to offer in the expo though, aside from partaking of shots of Infinit and Hammer drinks and "fun size" cliff bars, there were no major purchases or samplings of new gear. They did have an Endless Pool setup out front that anybody could come and try and receive a free videotape of their stroke for their troubles. The most enjoyable part of that was watching a woman enter, ask the pool attendants to set the machine for a 1:10-per-100 yd. pace, and then watching the jets blast her to the other end of the pool. TOMasz, being the Samaritarian that he is, was ready to jump-in to help.
Bike racking did not begin until 3:00 p.m. which gave us quite a bit of time to kill. TOM-a-Lot spent it canvassing the town for an elusive fanny pack while TOMasz and I hung out outside the expo. The transition area, we were assured, was only "5 blocks away" and so around 2:30 we head out on foot. This, as you may have guessed, gave us our third invaluable triathlon lesson of the weekend: The "block" is not an internationally recognized standard of measuring distance. In our case, this person seems to have been raised in a town made up of half-mile blocks.The long walk to the transition was not, however, without benefit. Ample opportunities presented themselves to us to build up the team's supplies: a grill, a skateboard ramp, and an old mattress and boxspring were all being generously left free for the taking on the sidewalk. Unfortunately we didn't have the logistic capabilities to partake of this treasure trove. The bikes, eventually, got racked and thoughts turned to dinner. While we had initially talked about going to the race-
sponsored carbo-load dinner but, since it did not begin until later in the evening, decided instead to go to the athlete's pasta buffet proffered by a local restaurant not far from the expo. What a time to be alive! The advances in plate making technology that could withstand the sheer volume of food piled upon them are astounding. TOMasz, apparently fearing that the restaurant would run out, built an Everest of tortellini and garlic bread (though it should be said that his second plate was a far more reasonable McKinley). Aside from giving us yet another opportunity to refine the concept of "pre race fueling," the meal provided us with our fourth invaluable triathlon lesson learned over the weekend: Don't wear your timing chip the day before the race, it just looks silly.
Fortunately none of the TOMs did this but, as the photographic evidence will attest to, it is not an unheard of practice. It should also be said that the teamwork and cleverness required of the TOMs table to get those pictures attest to team's bright future. After dinner we road a good chunk of the bike course which, for all of us who contend with New Hampshire cycling, was a bit unbelievable. First, it was incredibly flat—"pancake flat" as Joe pointed out"—and also very lovely because much of it wound through the Blackwater wildlife preserve. The course also taught me something new: pavement comes in uncracked and unpotholed forms. The surface looked so consistently smooth and clean it made me wish I had a bike to pull out of the car and get in some miles. The ride did give some ominous signs: it was a very exposed course on a hot, sunny day. And it was very windy. The rest of the evening was spent driving to Salisbury, 
Maryland (though here, again, lesson two would apply), where the hotel was, getting setup there, and chilling out. As a personal first, I got to sleep in the trundle bed being unable to convince either TOM-a-Lot or TOMasz that, as the official team spectator, the quality of my sleep was far more important than theirs. We awoke Sunday morning (and here I use the technical definition of "morning") around 4 a.m. and headed out on the road back to Cambridge around 5:30. Arriving at the race site a little after 6:00 the parking lot was already full and so I dropped off our champions and parked the car. The TOMs will have to fill you in on the mysteries of their pre-race preparation. From my end, aside from having to retrieve a forgotten helmet from the already parked car (which was only one block away), the time between our arrival and the start of the 
pro-wave at 6:45 were a little low key although even given that I wasn't racing myself, I still felt myself picking up on the excitement and nervous energy. Conditions seemed to be cooperating from what had been expected given the previous day's experience. An overcast sky was keeping the sun at bay and the wind was quite tame. The pro field was maybe 20 – 30 athletes deep and at 6:45 they were off into the Chesapeake Bay (or at least a cranny of the bay) for the 1.2 mile swim which was a counter-clockwise out-and-back course. The pros started going off course after passing the first buoy. Somehow they got back on track and leaders started coming in around 21:00 and 22:00 minutes. I could have done that, but I just didn't feel like it. As the age-groupers began to line up the trick for me was to locate the TOMs (after leaving them on my helmet quest) for photo ops. TOM-a-Lot’s wave was first (at 7:05, third wave overall) and all I knew was that he was in a wetsuit, and wearing a red swimcap. 
Armed with this information I did manage to locate him during his march out to the water before his start. TOMasz managed to find me before his 7:20 start (fifth wave overall), though I quickly lost him the crowd. The next step was to move on to the swim finish to get our heros (in) coming out of the water. I failed in both attempts. TOM-a-Lot came out in a very impressive 32:00 directly behind someone else, but I think I got a lovely picture of his backside. I did manage to catch him in transition heading out on the bike course, and then set up for TOMasz's emergence. Unfortunately I got distracted by another spectator asking me about swim cap colors and missed TOMasz 
running to transition after his also very impressive 33:00 swim. With both of the team members out on the bike, there was little to do but wait. I grabbed a spot of lawn about 50 yards out from the bike dismount and watched the age groupers head out on the road, and even managed to grab a little nap. I awoke as the first pro came in who did a 2:27—for the swim, T1 and bike combined (that was about 2:02 on the 56 mile bike). The next pro would be nearly 10 minutes behind. Around 10:00 a.m. I started looking out for Joe's return on the bike. Again, I was slow on the camera trigger and only realized he had come in as he was passing me by. A couple of minutes later he passed again, looking strong, to end the day on his 13.1 mile run. About twenty minutes later TOMasz came in (I managed to get a picture of his back)
and, despite some concern about his ankles and a worrisome shin injury picked upon during our five block Baatan Death March the day before, came out of T2 with a strong stride. By this point in the race the temperature had picked up and the sun had started to break through the clouds. For the most part however,conditions stayed pretty ideal. There were no real dramatic finishes from the pros (the winning time was 3:47), though there was at least one sub-4:00 performance from the age groupers. Joe came into the final stretch around noon looking strong and fierce as he held off a few upstarts from his age group. After grabbing some fluids he joined me as we awaited Tomasz's return. Looking like a man who had just raced 70.2 miles swimming, biking and running, he came down the final stretch and wrapped up another successful outing for the TOMs, missing the 5:00 mark by mere seconds. Joe's performance was also quite impressive at 4:47. The day wrapped up with drinking and eating ("taking in fluids and nutrition" in tri-speak) 
out of the post-race food tent, getting a massage (all that standing made my back sore), and taking in the awards ceremony—the highlight of which was Natascha Badmann (who turned the women's pro win at a "world's best" 4:08) taking her fist out of her pocket (you'll have to ask Natascha about that one) and railing against cheaters and drafters. We headed back to Wilmington around 4:00 and, in wanting to do something really different, had a pasta dinner. Planning a 2:00 a.m. departure to avoid the New York City traffic, the night ended early as the TOMs grabbed some zees. Needless to say, I missed that wake-up call, but wished them well in spirit.So, all in all, a very fun, very successful event. I'm already mentally committed to taking on the Eagleman 70.3 next year, I don't think I have too much trouble dragging along this year's participants (and perhaps some others) with me.TOM-a-Lot’s Personal Account - Near the end of the run, I shuffled on, really suffering now. Kind of like the last couple miles of a marathon, waiting to die. Then just inside the last half mile, 3 or 4 guys passed me, a couple of whom were in my AG. Now, I'm totally against finish line sprints, especially when it's late in the race and you're pushing other people out of the way Costanza style. But we still had over a quarter mile left, and this would put me up or down a few notches in my age group, so I said to myself "Hensel, suck it up. Take the pain." and did a smooth surge to the finish line. None of them answered and I didn't even have to push anyone over. That crossing of the Rubicon didn't hurt to much, so I wonder if I could have held on a little longer at my earlier pace. I guess I'll never know.Then at the awards ceremony, I discovered that there was a 61 year old man and a 50 year old woman who both beat me quite handily, at which point I thought, "Man, do I suck!" Then I rounded off the afternoon by accidentally insulting winner T J Tollakson's girlfriend. All in all, a very satisfying day.
TOMasz's "Five Cents" - Following two pit stops and two "excessively" long transitions, I realized early on the run, that my plan to race a sub 5-hour race will come down to the proverbial wire. While I was able to maintain a 7-min mile pace for the first 4 miles, the increasing humidity put a damper on my efforts to maitain that speed on the remaining portion of the run. However, all in all, I was also very pleased with my race, and now look forward to the final few weeks of training and a good showing at Ironman Lake Placid in July (with Team IRONTOM).
And the Grand Winners are: Natasha Badman & TJ Tollakson
