Why Do You Love Me - Garbage

The bike course was 3 laps of an out and back course that took us through the Maricopa Tribe reservation and just into the foothills of the mountains. Each lap has about 350-400 feet of climbing, but very gradual, though most of it is the last 9 miles before the turnaround. I was very excited about riding on this course, since my size usually is a detriment to me on the bike; yet I still consider the bike to be my strength in triathlons. But I was also nervous, since I had spent so much time in training on my weakness, the run, and hadn’t logged as many miles on the bike as I knew I should have. I was relying on experience to help me through on that one. I was also concerned because of the time lost training thanks to the car accident – right when I would have been putting in the most miles, I had to sit out for a week to let the wounds heal. The longest I had ridden this summer was 75 miles… and that was only one time.

But of the greatest concern was how my calves would affect me. I needed them for the bike, and they were already blown out.

So after downing a GU/PowerGel (chocolate – YUM!! Like chocolate frosting!), I headed through the cheering crowds (That was very cool to experience!) out on the bike. I think I had a little bit of adrenaline going, because I started passing people like crazy. I thought to myself, wow, I do like biking the best, especially if I can do this to all these others.

Here I was on my homemade bike, passing these $5000-plus full-carbon-fiber rigs with super aero carbon-fiber wheels. They have the latest in bike technology; I have decade-old technology (of course that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to upgrade, I do have a carbon-fiber crankset that I picked up on an on-line clearance sale for super cheap, and I have a nice aero frame, even though it’s a production over-run from 3 model years ago).


There was a bit of a head-wind on the way out, so when I got to the turnaround and saw that I had averaged 17.5 miles I was super pumped. I started the ride back, and I hit 30-35 mph pretty regularly. When Lap 1 was over, I had averaged 19.5 mph. I thought if I could keep that up, despite the blown calves, I would be in very good shape to not only beat my goal time of 13:30, but I might even be able to get my dream time of 12 hours.

Alas, it was not to be. The wind started shifting, and I started to have problems staying hydrated. The aero position I was in made it hard to get water digested. I had planned to eat a Clif bar on each lap, and I could barely choke one down on the bike. I also started having gas from the air I swallowed during the swim (it’s tough not to). I had made up some gel that became awful – it was designed to be more of a drink than a gel, and tasted very granular. I kept adding water to thin it out, and that helped a little, but I still cringe at the thought of it.

As I came into the turnaround for the start of the second lap, the streets were lined with people for about a mile before the turnaround, cheering, shouting, ringing cowbells – it was like I was in the Tour de France. I headed back out for lap two, feeling good in spirit.

But my body started to feel worse. My neck started to hurt – the wetsuit had chafed it, and now the sun was beating down on it. I could feel that I was dehydrating, too. I kept forgetting to drink, and when I took a big drink, it hurt my stomach. I couldn’t eat the Clif bar, and my gas was so bad, I had to make sure that any rider behind me was at least 50 feet back. And I wasn’t really sweating, instead, my nose was running horribly – I had to keep shooting snot rockets to the side of the road. It was pretty gross.

At the half way point, I made up my mind to stop, stretch my legs and especially my calves, slather something on my neck, and take my time to get a Clif bar down so I could have enough energy for the third lap.



I think I had a nice 5-10 minute stop, and ended up chatting with one of the volunteers about my car accident and legal drama. Each of the aid stations had a theme; one was Pony Express, where they dressed as cowpokes, another was rock‘n’roll themed with a blasting sound system, and the turnaround was the North Pole, where they dressed as elves.

I got back on my bike to ride to the end of lap two, but something had changed. The wind was now blowing from the side, and I had no tailwind to help me back. I still cruised down the hill, passing other athletes, but it wasn’t the same. Soon, about 15 pros passed me in short order as they finished their last lap and moved on to the run. And my back that had been sore all week prior to Ironman started to REALLY hurt. Plus, I had forgotten to do something about my neck.

So I stopped at the next aid station, grabbed a glob of Vaseline, and slathered it on my neck and my now-chapped lips. It felt really good to stand upright – the hunched over position made my back scream and my shoulders ache.