I won! Yes, the eighth annual UCSB Triathlon featuring a .5 mile with-current swim, a fast and challenging 16-mile bike course and a rolling scenic 3.1 mile run on ocean-front bluffs was all mine. It started with the wave start at campus point. I remember Fred Maggiore's advice about
avoiding the potential carnage of a wave start by either positioning in the front or the back of the pack. "The front is better!" said Karen. So I moved from my far back-and-right station straight up front up to Kyle’s left. It worked. I creamed them. At the first buoy I passed Karen, Kyle and some collegiate named Phelps.
What was happening? I was signed up for next month's Fearless Total Immersion Swim Clinic and had reviewed the materials. Or could it be for the last few months I have been eating and drinking several times my body weight to improve swim body position? Lard floats! I scoff at my competition's 5 percent body fat and 6 watts per kilogram output!
Taking three step leaps up the beach stairs I remember the Transition Training of Steve's Tri. I kicked off my wet suit at the first landing and scored a sub 40 second T1! Could I be piercing the privilege podium-prone people?
On the bike, I'm using Kyle's weather tips for racing in a monsoon. I was flying the straights and skimming the turns. I thought back to the warm feeling I was having by aging away from the likes of Maximum Maxwell, Hauling Howell and "Sound Mind and Bawdy" Groom. Only to be cooled off by the race official’s decision to expand 10 years in my age group, bringing all those threats back into the equation. But this time I will not be defeated again by Comeback Dave even after he repairs a flat.
T2 was a blur. As per instructions, I shrink wrapped my dry shoes and started running towards the lagoon. I knew then the hard effort I extended on the Charlie Sheen training program was paying off. I was in to WIN. The tiger was coursing through my body but there was two things missing. However, my Physical Therapist, Mike Swan said they were both HMO-declined because of pre-existing conditions. Spouse Helen assured me that I only need one Goddess.
I finished and won! Jay presented the trophy to me and Mike Takeuchi said something about the next Athletic Roundtable.
Suddenly, I hear this ringing even louder than my Tinitus. I hear, "Turn it off, turn it off!" I was doing the Ironman shuffle to the bathroom feeling my left foot plantars and pre-race intestinal disturbances. It was 5:30 Sunday morning and You've got Mail was flashing on the screen.
I admit, upon seeing the E-mail announcement canceling the race, I might have roared, "Thank God!" I always knew my best chance of winning would be when nobody shows up. Did I ever have the ganas to win? Prior to that pesky alarm clock I had broke the finish line tape. Now, I hear Helen in the background, "Are you putting all this tri stuff away?" The dream was over.