The atmosphere at the race was certainly unique.  There were some people there who were trying to get a good time, but the vast majority were there to have fun, wear a cool costume, get dirty and people-watch.  Over 6,000 racers attended on Saturday (and probably close to that number again on Sunday) in waves every 30 minutes, so the race site was always very busy with racers coming, going, running, frolicking and eating.

The event staff did an excellent job of having enough portable toilets (I did not see *any* lines ever), having plenty of food (for sale) and posting results quickly (they had a dedicated tent displaying results more or less as they came in off the course).  The packet pickup lines were well-staffed and efficient.  There was a gear check for the many items racers did not want to get dirty.  Excellent organization on their part.

The only thing I did not like about the events of the day was that spectators were not allowed onto the race course to take pictures or view the obstacles.  Race viewing was limited to the start and about a 200 meter sector of course near the finish line.  While I can appreciate this for liability and business reasons, I was looking forward to photographing all of the course obstacles before the race, which I did not get to do.

I decided to wear a compression base layer on top and some tri shorts.  If I had thought of a clever costume, I certainly would have worn that, but since I didn’t, I decided to dress functionally.  I chose tight clothing so nothing would snag on any obstacles, and I skipped a hat, sunglasses and watch for the same reason.

Here were the obstacles we encountered, in order, on the 3.02 mile race course:

• Knee deep muddy water. After running about 1/4 mile over easy terrain, the race immediately got us dirty with several 5-20 meter sectors of murky water.  This was relatively easy to navigate with some high-stepping and running in the more shallow parts.  However, our shoes were immediately muddy and soaked, which made running at speed more difficult.
• Hay bales. The course presented us with a 10 meter sector of hay bales, stacked next to each other.  The bales were about three feet tall and very soft.  Most of us hurdled onto the bales and ran over them cleanly, though the bales were soft enough that footing was unsteady enough to topple a careless racer.  This was another easy obstacle, but slightly more difficult to navigate without losing speed due to the softness and uneven-ness of the bales.
• High-stepping tires + car obstacles. We had to hurdle over some old cars, high-step through a 20 meter sector of tires, hurdle over more cars, high-step through more tires and hurdle one last set of cars.  This was one of the more technical obstacles–I saw several athletes get their legs confused in the tires.  The cars were small enough to “steeplechase” over.  I was able to high-step through the first sector of tires with no problems, but on the second sector I found myself running on the tire edges (rather than high-stepping through the centers of the tires in the “proper” fashion).
• “Over/under” hurdles. The next obstacle was five or six sets of “over/unders”–hurdling over a four foot tall wood wall, then immediately rolling under barbed wire positioned about two feet off the ground.  This was definitely the most exhausting obstacle.  Many of us “steeplechased” over the walls; I found myself hurdling them without placing my feet on the wall (just using my upper body to thrust myself over).  I could have taken the “under” portions much faster, but I couldn’t figure out how to roll quickly and I didn’t want to take any chances with the barbed wire.
• Crawl through the “mud tent.” We soon came upon a low, long tent made of black tarp.  We couldn’t see what was inside the tent–all we could see was muddy ground leading into the tent.  So, without knowing what was inside, we were forced to get on our hands/knees in the mud and crawl.  The tent was about 10-20 meters long, hot, full of mud, and almost pitch-black dark inside.  A few sections were tall enough that I didn’t have to crawl, but most of the journey through the tent was on all fours.  When I came out the other side I was completely muddy.
• Balance obstacle. We arrived at an obstacle that consisted of several narrow-ish (10″ wide) wood planks connected to each other in a straight line.  The planks went up and down at various angles, rising to a height of 4-5 feet.  We had to traverse the planks without falling.  This was a relatively easy obstacle, though I could see this being a challenge for someone who was particularly tired or afraid of heights.
• Horizontal cargo net. This was a large grid made of rope knotted at about 1 foot square intervals.  The net was held up by a framework of wood spaced about 5 meters apart, with significant sag in the net between each piece of wood.  This was difficult to navigate quickly due to the rope sag and the wide spacing of the grid (I actually lost my balance and fell into the net at one point).
• More knee deep muddy water. Though we were thoroughly dirty by this point, the water served to re-soak our shoes and make running more difficult again.
• Log hurdling. We had to run through muddy water while hurdling felled tree logs at a height of about three feet.  The logs were very close together, perhaps a stride’s length apart.  I decided to straddle and swing my legs over the tree logs, which was a bit slow but definitely “safe.”  It may have been possible for a faster racer to jump on top of the logs and actually run across them to get to the other side!
• Very long sector of muddy water. This was the longest and most challenging sector of muddy water yet.  The water was deeper (thigh level), the sector was probably 40 meters long and we had to navigate a 10 foot sandy descent into the water (and a 10 foot sandy ascent out of it).  Plus, we were 2.5 miles into the race, so we were all pretty tired.  Fortunately there was a “sandbar” on one of the sides of the mud sector so I just ran through that.
• Vertical rope wall climb. The finish line was in sight!  However, first we had to climb the rope wall.  The wall consisted of a wood platform about four feet off the ground onto which we had to jump, and then a 6-8 foot (nearly) vertical rope climb.  The descent on the other side mirrored the ascent.  Experienced climbers could definitely use their skills to gain time on this obstacle.
• Warrior fires. This was one of two obstacles viewable by spectators from the start/finish area.  We had to hurdle over two “fire walls” about a foot high.  These were more visually impressive than anything else, as a normal stride would take most racers cleanly across the fires.
• Mud pit laced with barbed wire. Just 10 meters from the finish, we dove into a mud pit and crawled through it on our stomachs.  Barbed wire laced about two feet above the surface of the mud ensured we got super dirty.  I was able to half-swim through some of the mud, and had to crawl at the end.

In the end, I was able to complete the course in 25:00.35, good for 30/959 in the M25-29 age group on Saturday and 109/6394 overall Saturday.  I probably could have been at least a minute faster had I taken more chances on the obstacles and been more aggressive with my run pacing, but I, like the rest of the racers, was there for the experience.

And what an experience it was!  I’m definitely going to do another one of these races in the future.

For my second Ironman race, I chose the Great Floridian Triathlon, primarily because of it’s close location to Gainesville and secondarily because of the challenge it offered.  Though the GFT’s course changes every year, it always offers lots of hills on the bike and run, warm temperatures and overall challenging race conditions.

The two lap swim was in Lake Minneola.  The water temperature was 73, so wetsuits were legal.  The swim went well for me; I actually went through the first lap a bit ahead of schedule and settled back into an easy rhythm for the second lap.  With less than 300 racers, there was almost no contact on the swim.

Considering I swam the same time as I did last year at Ironman Wisconsin on almost no swim training, I am satisfied with how the swim went.  T1 was a bit slow, but uneventful.

My plan on the three loop hilly bike course was to be super ultra conservative.  I knew the heat and hills would be problematic if I was at all aggressive, so my plan was to be a slave to my power meter the whole way.

First, here are the numbers:
Distance: 114.8 miles (more on this oopsie in a bit)
Pedaling time: 6:50:40
Actual time: 7:01:32
Pedaling speed: 16.8mph
Actual speed: 15.9mph
Average power: 131 watts
Normalized power: 147 watts
VI: 1.13
Decoupling: 3.15%
Cadence: 87rpm
HR: 147bpm
Work: 3197kJ
TSS: 314.6
IF: 0.686

To summarize, I rode easy the whole way.  My average power for each of the three loops was 130-131 watts.  I kept my power low on the hills and pushed down the hills (my max speed was almost 50mph).  I stayed aero on the flats and downhills and used the uphills as an opportunity to change positions, eat/drink and stretch my legs.  I used very low gearing (50/34 chainrings, 11-28 cassette) to allow for easy ascent of the rollers and fast speeds on the downhills.

On the first loop, I was getting passed left and right by testosterone filled guys pushing 500 watts up the rollers.  I was not too concerned.  I had a feeling I’d catch them at mile 100.  Sure enough, I was the one doing the passing on loop 3!

I made several short stops at aid stations to collect my nutrition, pour water on myself (the air temperature on the bike reached 85 degrees) and keep my HR under control.  I’m glad I did this, as it gave me a chance to catch my breath and stretch my neck out a bit.

MAJOR EXECUTION ERROR: on the first loop, I made a wrong turn that cost me almost 3 miles and 15 minutes of clock time.  It was 100% my fault!  The turn was clearly marked and there was a cop pointing the way.  I simply went right when I should have gone left.  I finally realized my error when I came to a T junction without any marked turn arrows or police cars!  I fortunately made the correct decision to turn around and go back the way I came.  Damnit!

Aside from the wrong turn, I’m happy with my bike execution.  My TSS numbers were right where I wanted them to be.  I got off the bike still mentally alert, confident and as ready to run as one can be after 8.5 hours of racing.

The three lap run course was a 4.4ish mile out and back on a paved trail.  About half the trail was covered in tree canopy, and half was exposed to the sun.  My plan was to execute a run/walk strategy the entire way, to prevent a major meltdown.  I knew I wouldn’t have the run chops to go the whole distance without a walk break.  I would also keep my cadence very high, and run on grass and dirt when possible.

I knew after the first few miles that I wasn’t going to be setting any speed records, and that even my reasonable run/walk strategy was in jeopardy.  I was jogging at 10-11′ mile pace and my walk recoveries were nice, but I wasn’t getting any faster and my legs were already starting to burn.  The heat was a major slowing factor early in the run, and I was also having GI issues that were slowing me down considerably.

The mile leading up to the turnaround was quite hilly (both up and down), so I quickly modified my strategy to lengthen my walk breaks from 1′ to 2′, and then to 3′, and then finally to 3′ + uphills + aid stations (lol).

However, I was still able to run consistently and steadily during the run intervals, and easily resume running when I chose to begin again.  So I was still in control.

At mile 11, I took a Mucinex-D tablet, which contains pseudoephedrine.  I’ve found I respond very well to Mucinex-D, and this was to be my “secret weapon.”  Sure enough, I found my rhythm and maintained my speed as I ran the second lap.  Aside: pseudoephedrine is a legal performance-enhancing supplement, much like caffeine, in reasonably limited quantities.

When I hit the last loop, I actually began to feel a bit better.  Maybe it was because I knew the end was in sight, or maybe it was the Mucinex-D kicking in, but I didn’t slow down (and I didn’t have to take any more bathroom breaks).

Finally, I arrived at the last mile.  It felt so great to finally be done that I actually kicked it up like six gears and cruised at 8:30 mile pace to the finish!  Maybe I was a bit *too* conservative on the run?

Anyway, though I walked a sizable portion of the marathon (probably about 1 hour in total of walking), I feel like I executed the marathon well, because (a) I was in control of my body the whole time, (b) when I did choose to run, it was at a relatively constant pace the whole time, and (c) my third loop was approximately the same pace as my second loop, which is a sign of good pacing during an Ironman.  Of course, I wasn’t fast at all, but given the fitness I brought to the race course, I went as fast as I could.

I have a lot of work to do before I can compete (rather than just participate) at Ironman.  I know too many people that I can compete with at short course, but school me at the 140.6 distance.  I need to significantly improve my ability to run long after accumulating 300+ bike TSS and I need to improve my nutritional strategy.

I am going to take this coming year off from Ironman, work on my run, and we’ll see where things go from there.  I know I said the exact same thing after my Ironman last year, but I really mean it this time!

The 1.2 mile swim was in the 87 degree Lake Minneola.  Blech.  Reports indicate that the swim was slightly long, but I actually had a pretty good swim, at 41 minutes and change.  Turns out I was fastest in my age group??  LOL!!?  Not bad for literally *no* swim training leading up to the race!

The 56 (turns out it was closer to 60) mile bike was on country roads around Clermont, with lots of rolling hills and an ascent of Sugarloaf Mountain, which isn’t really a mountain, just a 2 minute hill at around 12% grade.  I ran a 34/26 lowest gear, which was fine, but for the GFT I’ll run a 34/28 for a bit extra spinnage.  My goal was to average around 155 watts, to have a normalized power of 165-170 watts (giving me an intensity factor of 0.8-0.82), and cap my wattage at 250 on the rollers.

I started off smooth–letting the dickswingers push their 500 watts over the rollers while I capped my efforts.  I caught many of them on the downhills and flats anyway.  Miles 15-30 were filled with cramping (probably due to slamming too much nutrition after the swim), but a brief stop at an aid station stocked with ice cold water helped ease the pain.

Sadly, my race came to an abrupt end at mile 45 with a flat tire.  I tried to use Vittoria Pit Stop to plug the leak, but the hole was too big to seal.  The Pit Stop was all I was carrying, so my day was done.  I didn’t even make it to T2 before calling Lana to pick me up!

I was pissed at myself for not carrying more flat repair stuff, and also pissed because I was feeling quite fit heading into the race.  I really wanted to demonstrate I could race long course well in the heat!

So, I did what any ridiculous triathlete looking to use up some fitness would do–I took the following Tuesday off work to try the race again.  I would do my own Half Ironman, self-supported, at race pace, on the roads around Gainesville!

The plan was this: swim 2150 yards in my 25 yard apartment complex pool, and bike/run 56/13.1 on some of my bread-and-butter routes around town.  Self-supported, including all stops and doing the transitions as quickly as I could.

I started at around 6am on Tuesday.  I did the 2150 yard swim in 40’16″ with no problems.

T1 was awkward.  I got my bike stuff ready, and then realized that there wasn’t enough light for me to start riding!  So I checked my email for 15 minutes until it was safe to ride.  Oops.

My plan for the bike was to just nail it at 160 watts (just under 80% of FTP) the whole way.  The route I selected was flat.  I chose a regular cycling jersey, regular helmet and training wheels.  I carried four bottles, which is enough for me for a 3 hour ride in slightly warm temps.

I felt *very* good on the bike.  I felt strong and powerful in my newly-modified aero position.  The first two hours were quite comfortable, and the last hour was manageable.  I took periodic standing breaks and was able to hold my desired watts and cadence (87-88rpm) the whole way.  The only mistake I made was using the same 11-26 cassette I used on Sunday (normally I choose a 12-23 for the Gainseville flats)!

Ended up averaging 162 watts (166 NP) with a VI of 1.02 (can you say FLAT roads), IF of 0.79, TSS of 198 and no decoupling.  Spot on for a half Ironman bike effort.  2:55 + 1′ worth of traffic stops.  I got off the bike ready to run.

My plan for the run was to minimize carnage.  I had intentionally chosen a route that was exposed to the sun for most of the way.  Two laps of a 3.3 mile out-and-back.  The temperatures were rising steadily throughout the run, and I knew that fatigue + rising temps could mean trouble if I wasn’t careful.  I started off running 8:45 pace, which, in cooler conditions is actually my “easy” pace.  I wore a long-sleeved skin-cooler top, and carried a water bottle the whole way (refilling every two miles or so), which I used for drinking and dumping on myself.

I held this pace for 10 miles or so, then the fatigue and rising temps started to catch up with me.  My quads started to hurt and my water breaks got longer.  My last 3 miles were slower (9:30 pace), but I was able to keep running.  1:57 without the water breaks, 2:06 with the water breaks.

So, around 5:40 of s/b/r time, not including the two transitions.  Not bad, considering the heat!

Some notes:

• I am happy with where my nutritional strategy is right now. With the exception of the cramping early in the Clermont race (which was a silly mistake on my part), I took in enough calories and salt to support my races.  During the self-supported race, I estimate I consumed over 7,000mg of salt in the form of approximately 32xSaltstick tablets (2 every 20′ on the bike, 1 every mile on the run), plus the salt in my Infinit mix and a bit from some Gatorade on the run.  Calorie-wise, I consumed about 1,300 calories of Infinit and 200 Gatorade calories, almost all on the bike.  These numbers seem to work for me in the heat!
• My clothing choices were satisfactory as well. During Ironman, I’m going to wear a (tight-fitting) bike jersey so I can carry additional nutrition + water.  I may choose to use arm coolers, depending on how hot it gets–they’ve worked for me in the past.  I will almost definitely choose an aero helmet–my LG rocket has vents in which I can pour water.  The long-sleeved skin cooler top on the run is a no-brainer for me.
• My swimming is actually OK, considering I have done almost ZERO swim training this summer.  The ROI for my long-course swimming doesn’t seem to be that great for me, so I’m not going to worry about it too much.  Perhaps a few longer swims before race day, and that’s it.
• I need a better flat tire strategy for GFT. Pit Stop is not enough.  Right now, my race wheels are a tubular front and a clincher rear, which is not ideal.  I need to either (a) carry full flat solutions for both wheels (which is cumbersome), or (b) find a clincher front wheel.  If anyone has a deep-section (preferably 80mm or deeper) clincher front wheel they want to lend me for GFT, I am all ears!
• I am concerned about the leg pain I experienced on the run. This is the same leg pain I experienced at Ironman Wisconsin.  In both cases, I was fit enough to run faster but I could not do so mechanically.  Perhaps I should consider a run-walk strategy at GFT to give my legs a regular break from the pounding.  Or maybe compression tights?  Yikes.

There were few actual facts and lots of hyperbole, exaggeration and brouhaha.  It was, as usual, a waste of time.

So, I would like to offer some not-really-disputable facts to help inform people on the issue at hand. Perhaps someone out there will read this and think twice before starting thread #874,669 on this topic.

FACTS:

• People are assholes and idiots.
• Cyclists who break the law are assholes and idiots.
• Drivers who break the law are assholes and idiots.
• Cyclists are piloting a vehicle that weighs between 20 and 30 pounds.
• Drivers are piloting a vehicle that weighs between 2,000 and 80,000 pounds.
• Drivers and cyclists colliding at high speeds usually causes significant injury, or death, to the cyclist, regardless of fault, due to the difference in size and protection the two vehicles offer their pilots.
• To increase the likelihood of their survival, cyclists must ensure that drivers can see them, even if it means drivers are temporarily delayed.
• Cyclists can ride two abreast in Florida (and in many other states).  In large groups, riding two abreast actually makes it easier for drivers to pass the group.
• Cyclists must be given three feet of clearance in Florida (and in many other states).
• Cycling on sidewalks is significantly more dangerous than cycling on a street.
• Cycling on streets is often the only way for a cyclist to get to his or her destination (bike paths and MUPs don’t go everywhere).
• Sometimes, bike lanes marked on streets are not usable due to potholes and road debris.  In these cases, cyclists are entitled by law in Florida (and in many other states) to ride in the traffic lane.
• Cyclists do not need to pay a “bike tax.”  Our income tax and vehicle registration fees covers road maintenance.
• In cities, cyclists face the additional hazard of doors opening in their path.

A rational opinion (and even one expressed on an internet forum) should be based on facts, and I suggest you consider the facts listed above as you form your opinion on this issue.

Now, you have to figure out how to look good outside of your tri shorts and wetsuit.  T-shirts, shorts and flip-flops are comfortable, but not at all flattering.  This is not vanity, but sensible–how we present ourselves sends a message about us to everyone we meet, and we ought to control what that message is.

Here are some tips for how you, a fit endurance athlete, can make fashion choices to help others see you in a positive light:

(Note: I will speak mostly about mens fashion.  With apologies to the lovely triathlete ladies, I don’t know enough about womens fashion to comment authoritatively on that issue.  However, some points below apply to men and women.)

• Be conscious of when and where you wear your race jerseys. Wearing a race jersey is a signal that (a) you’re a racer, (b) you’re proud of this and (c) you’re willing to talk about it, and possibly be judged for it.  If you’re cool with sending those signals in a social situation, then by all means wear your race shirt (seriously)!  Just be aware of these signals when you consider donning your race shirt.  (I recommend choosing race shirts that have personal significance, such as your first triathlon or your first Ironman.)
• Choose “slim fit” and “modern fit” shirts and pants. Normal fit shirts and pants tend to be too baggy on fit men.  Slim fit shirts have higher armholes and more of a taper at the waist, and slim fit pants have a higher inseam and are smaller through the leg.
• If you lose more than about 20 pounds, it’s time to get some new clothes. As your body changes shape, your old clothes won’t look as good.  It’s 100% okay to splurge on some new clothes when you hit a weight loss milestone!
• Don’t wear athletic socks when doing something not athletic. Short white socks are not appropriate casual attire.  If you’re wearing slacks, wear long socks that cover the calf.  For shorts, wear no socks or socks that are not visible above the shoe line.  For jeans or casual pants, it depends on the type of shoe you’re wearing.
• Don’t wear athletic shoes when doing something not athletic. There’s such a thing as a comfortable casual shoe that’s (gasp) *NOT* an old running shoe!  Go find a pair or two that goes well with jeans or your chinos and call it a day.
• Athletic sunglasses are rarely fashionable. Get a pair that looks good for an afternoon out on the town.  Leave the Oakley Half Jackets at home.
• Get to know your local tailor. Most off-the-rack clothes are not made to fit your body type.  A good tailor can make an off-the-rack suit look almost like a bespoke item.  They can even take in the sides of your (probably too baggy) dress shirts!  And they can certainly hem your pants, which are probably too short or too long.
• Shoes match the socks match the belt! Men, this is the most important thing you’ll read all day.  Brown shoes, brown socks, brown belt.  Black shoes, black socks, black belt.  No exceptions (not even for Tim Gunn). Got it?

Here’s a general guide as to which sources you can probably trust, and which sources you should take with a grain of salt.  The least trustworthy sources are at the top (with higher numbers), and the most trustworthy are at the bottom.

10.  Product reviews from a website that is also selling the product. Obviously they want to frame the product in a positive light so more people will buy it.  Get your information elsewhere.

9.  A triathlon magazine. Even if the advice is from a columnist, magazines are in the business of making money as well.  It’s rare that you see a negative product review in a triathlon magazine.

8.  A source that claims it’s a scientific “study,” without providing a link to the study, a description of the study protocols or any other documentation about the study. It’s easy to manipulate data to “prove” something about a product, especially if they don’t provide any information about how the study was created.  Look for documentation before buying into any claims of “scientific improvement,” and beware of the placebo effect!

7.  Internet forums. Many knowledgeable people frequent the popular triathlon internet forums.  Many MORE idiots post on the same forums, offering misinformation, personal anecdotes and trolling that is not at all helpful.  If you’re looking for information on internet forums, be ready to identify and wade through huge steaming piles of bullshit to get accurate information.

6.  Testimony from a famous superstar athlete. This athlete may be getting paid to say what s/he’s saying.  Besides, how relevant are the training habits of a pro triathlete (who can run 6 minute miles in his sleep) to you (who ran a 6 minute mile once, like 17 years ago in college)?

5.  Traditional wisdom in the sport. Though certain fundamentals have withstood the test of time, as our knowledge of sports science improves, others are not.  Take anything to which the “traditional” or “fundamental” label is applied with a grain of salt.

4.  Your training partners. The plural of anecdote is not data.  Though they may have some relevant information on local training, race strategy and where best to pick up the hot runner babes, their knowledge of triathlon is necessarily incomplete.  Take heed of their advice, but don’t act on their advice alone.

3 (T).  Your personal experience. In the end, you do know your body best.  You’re learning more every day about the types of stress you can apply in training, what equipment choices work best for you, what foods you respond to, and more.  However, still keep an open mind–you may find out you’ve been doing something wrong all along, or a new scientific development may come along and suggest a change of habit.

3 (T).  Your coach. Depending on your coach’s knowledge and the intimacy of the relationship you have with him or her, you may consider this a better or worse source than your personal experience.  So I’ll call it a tie.  A knowledgeable coach not only knows what you best respond to, but is also on top of the latest scientific developments in the sport.  S/he is a great source of information, second only to (and you may have guessed this)…

1.  A double blind, controlled, peer-reviewed, published, well-documented scientific study conducted over a large sample size and funded by independent sources who do not have a conflict of interest. These are the primary sources upon which all accurate sports knowledge is based.  The only flaw–there are so few studies that fit this bill that we’re left making up stuff as we go along and calling it “sports science!”

Of course, you’re already a badass, so these tips are about highlighting the already-present inner badass inside you.  Be sure to follow all of these tips for maximum bad-assery, especially at your local triathlon where everything is at stake.

10.  Take up a lot of space in the transition area.

Transition area too compact. Not a badass athlete.

Badass athletes need more space to contain their awesomeness.  Most people will require about 2 feet of horizontal space for their area (including their racked bike, helmet, running stuff and accessories), but true badasses need 6 feet or more!

9.  Sprint the finishing chute.

Suck it, 186th place finisher!

Real badasses leave enough in reserve to run the last 50 meters at 5 minute mile pace, obliterating at least 4 racers who were foolish enough to run at a constant pace the whole way.  Plus, you’ll look super great in your finishing photo.

8.  Bring an unnecessarily tricked out bike to races.

Top speed for true triathlon badasses: 15.3mph

The only bikes you should even consider adding to your arsenal are the ones that cost over $8,000.  Even though you can get a bike that is just as fast for $3,000, and a bike that’s 98% as fast for $1,000, there’s something magical about that extra $5-7k you spend.  Not sure what that is though.

7.  Complain about the post-race food.

Where are the bagels, guys!?

You are a serious bad-ass athlete.  You deserve to be completely renourished after a long, tough sprint triathlon.  And pizza, clif bars, gatorade, water, GU gels, cookies and pretzels doesn’t cut it.

6.  Ride the bike as hard as you can (the run doesn’t matter).

Who cares about running when you look this bad-ass anyway

True bragging rights come from having the 16th fastest OVERALL (OMG!) bike split.

5.  Don’t ever acknowledge any volunteers while you’re racing.

Don't even LOOK at the volunteers! Minus 8 badass points for this "triathlete."

You’re too busy kicking ass to bother.  Besides, they get a free t-shirt out of it!

4.  Do a “flying mount” and a “flying dismount” when exiting T1 and entering T2, respectively.

Minus eleven badass points for not using a disc wheel though.

These are easy ways to save a few seconds on race day that carry no risk whatsoever.  No risk of falling on your face, dropping your bike and busting your derailleur.  It’s never happened before.

3.  Talk about your bike non-stop to whoever will listen.

Yeah, pretty awesome amirite

Before the race to the other racers in attendance (“these carbon skewers save me 2 seconds over 40k!”), during the race (“bet you can’t get much of a draft off of me on my Trek Speed Racer 9000!”) and after the race (“my Zipp 150mm wheels were so fast, but I think I would have been faster if I had gotten the ceramic spoke upgrades”).

2.  If you are a man, do not let a woman pass you.  Ever.

Pick it up, son!

On the bike, on the run.  It doesn’t matter.  No man (especially no bad-ass man) has ever been beaten by a woman at anything except billiards and cake decorating, and you’re not about to be the first.  Pass her right back, and if she passes you for good after that, she’s doping.

1.  Make fun of the 1st time athletes at the race.

What a noob.

It’s part of the “initiation” into the sport of triathlon to get “hazed” at your first event.  Just do silly little stuff, like tell them about the 20% hill on the bike (that doesn’t exist), ask them about their training (and then tell them how you doubled their weekly mileage), regale them with stories of how you “won” your first triathlon, and if all else fails, let just a little bit of air out of their tires.  They’ll laugh it off after the race and they’ll be even more exited to try another one!

10. Get to the race 1/2 hour earlier than originally planned. Something always comes up. There’s traffic, or you have to park a mile from the race site, or you get a flat in transition, or you forget your helmet at the car. The peace of mind gained by sitting quietly in a corner for 15 minutes before the race starts more than makes up for the 30 minutes of lost sleep in the morning.

9. Bike the beginning and end of the bike course. Practice the mount and dismount at race speeds. Memorize the landmarks heading into the bike finish, so you know when to unclip. Plan the run from your transition area to the bike start, and from the bike finish to your transition area. Don’t let yourself be surprised by anything as you roll into T2.

8. Run the start and finish of the run course. Again, practice your T2 at race speed. Make sure you know where the run start is. If you are going for an age group placing, the last half mile of the run course is critical–knowing the layout may give you the edge you need to out-sprint your competition! Picture yourself crossing the line powerfully and confidently. No surprises!

7. Keep your positive energy. Don’t let other racers take it from you. Being around other racers can be exhausting in and of itself. Everyone’s busy doing their pre-race prep, worrying about the swim start, waiting in line for the bathroom, posturing, and generally stressing out. Keep to yourself and your support crew. Don’t get involved in any conversations with other triathletes unless that’s your style. Don’t try to “impress” anyone with your super-face pre-race warm-up, and on the other side of the coin, don’t let anyone else “impress” you with their matching race kit, $8,000 bike and lean, tanned physique.

6. Pump your tires at your car. Leave the pump in your car. One less thing to carry with you to transition. Simple as that! (You can also pump your tires at home, the morning before the race, if you live near the race site. Bring the pump with you anyway.)

5. Put body glide on your lower legs and ankles before putting on your wetsuit. Body glide can be purchased at any store that sells swimming, cycling or running apparel. It costs like $6 and will save you time in T1 by allowing your wetsuit to slip off quickly. Plus, Body Glide is great to use on chafe spots, such as your neck if you wear a wetsuit, your armpits and the bottom of your feet.

4. If you have nothing to do, get in line for the bathroom. Trust me. You will have to pee 5 times (and poop twice) on race morning. The lines will only get longer as the race approaches. Get in line. For the.  Bathroom.

3. If anything unexpected happens, roll with it! If they cancel the swim at the last minute because the water is too cold, whatever. If you’re in the last wave and have to pass 800 people on the bike, whatever. If you get a flat 20 minutes before the race start, whatever. Don’t waste energy worrying about the consequences of the unexpected event. Just take any action that is required (fix the flat, take off your wetsuit, etc) and put it out of your mind. You’ll need all the physical and mental energy you can muster for the race itself.

2. Don’t bring all of your crap to the transition area. Your fellow racers will thank you for it, and you won’t be drowning in a big pile of tri gear and confusion. Wetsuit, goggles, cap, bike, helmet, bike shoes, hat, belt, shoes, backpack, a few miscellaneous personal items. For most races, that’s all you need. Leave the rest behind!

1. Don’t do ANYTHING new on race day. If you haven’t practiced it before the day of the race, don’t do it! Don’t try that flying mount if you haven’t practiced it. Don’t put on new running shoes the day of the race. Don’t try a new pair of sunglasses. Don’t switch brands of gels. Don’t even wear a different HAT on race day! The time to try new techniques and equipment is during a controlled training workout. On race day, all you should have to worry about is executing a well-paced race. Not the chafing that you get from that new shirt 2 miles into the run.

To start, this suit is TIGHT. I’m right in between their size small and medium (I’m 5’8″, male, 145lbs), and they suggested I go with the small as they tend to stretch a bit with use. When I put it on for the first time, it took me a while to get it positioned on my body correctly. Not as long as putting on a wetsuit, but longer than a normal one piece tri-suit. My “massive” pecs and lats spill out of the top of the suit, and there is no “jiggle” whatsoever in the spare tire region of my midsection. NICE.

The crotch area on this suit is designed differently than most other tri-suits. There is no chamois padding. Instead of taking the traditional “let’s lock everything in place” approach to genital engineering, the Amphibian offers freedom to move through careful positioning of the seams. It’s a slightly weird feeling going for your first run in the suit and experiencing the freedom the Amphibian has to offer.

The suit has a small zipper placed in the back to conform to ITU regulations. I cannot zip it up myself, I have to have someone else zip me in. I can, however, easily unzip it with the attached pull-cord-thingy. Unzipped, the suit holds its shape decently and allows for a bit more ventilation.

Inseam length is perfect for me. It’s shorter than most cycling shorts, but not so short to look funny. Of course, inseam length is mostly a personal preference, but if you’re a short dude like me you’ll probably be pleased. The silicone leg grippers are nice.

The suit is very, very, VERY light. It almost feels like paper when you’re holding it. Kiwami advertises the dry weight at 100g, and I’d believe it. My underwear weighs more than this suit. Now, usually suit weight is not super important to one’s performance, but if you’re a speed demon like me (HA!) every last gram is important.

Okay, now for a sport-specific review of the suit.

SWIMMING

This suit is FAST in the water. The fabric actively repels water and sometimes little bubbles form, which may provide some buoyancy. I’m not sure how much faster I am in this suit compared to a speedo, but I felt slippery in the water. For non-wetsuit swims, I’d certainly have a small edge over those wearing just a tri-suit, and I’d probably be on relatively even footing with those wearing a swim skin. The cut in the shoulders does not hinder my range of motion in the slightest.

The suit simply does not retain water. I did a swim and then immediately went out for a run, and after 2 minutes of running, the suit was completely dry. This thing is just ridiculous. Not having 400g of water on your body when you start the bike can probably make at least a small difference in both your speed and your core temperature (especially if it’s cool outside).

CYCLING

The suit doesn’t flap around in the wind at all, which is awesome. However, the lack of any pockets and a chamois pad mean that this suit is really only suited for short rides. I would personally not want to race in this suit at anything over Olympic distance–maybe Half Ironman if I worked my way up to it.

However, keep in mind that this suit is explicitly NOT designed for long course–if you want a long course suit, Kiwami’s Kaiman is much better suited for the task. So the above criticisms are admittedly misplaced. The Amphibian is just fine for short course cycling, which is exactly what it was designed to do. You don’t need pockets or a chamois pad when you’re only riding for an hour or less.

RUNNING

I love the feel of this suit while running. It’s compressive, yet allows for freedom of movement, particularly in the crotch area. There are no chafe spots, as all of the seams are placed in non-critical areas. I’m told that the suit is also very flattering, which is important for us age group athletes.

I chose the Nero/Savoia/Bianco color combo. The black (I guess that’s the “Nero” part) is flattering, but it does get a bit warm at times on the run. However, this is not a big deal, especially considering the duration of the races in which you’ll use this suit.

SUMMARY

The Amphibian is an amazing suit for short-course racing. It’s a serious piece of equipment designed for a specific purpose. Use it for anything else (long course racing, weightlifting, tea parties) and you will probably be disappointed. But if you’re a short course athlete looking for every last bit of speed, the Amphibian is absolutely, unquestionably the suit you want.

The Cemetery TT is a fixture of the Gainesville community. The Team Florida collegiate athletes use it as a benchmark to gauge their fitness, and the strongest Gainesville cyclists use it as a low-key chance to duke it out against the clock. After all, in the “race of truth,” the clock never lies.

For full disclosure, I have never participated in this race. There has only been one instance of the Cemetery TT since I moved to Gainesville, and I had a prior commitment. I have, however, participated in more than my fair share of triathlons (of which the cycling leg bears a strong resemblance to a standalone TT) and time trials of all distances.

The distinguishing feature of the Cemetery TT is the set of unique, arbitrary and unusual equipment restrictions. To quote Team Florida Cycling coach Phil Gaimon on the equipment rules:

“Equipment rules: aerobars, TT bikes, deep clincher wheels, shoe covers, and skinsuits are okay.
Aero helmets, tubular wheels, disc wheels, and trispokes are prohibited. You will not get scored if you come out on this stuff, because aero helmets aren’t as safe in the event of crashes, and no one wants to stand around while you change a flatted tubular or try to find a tube with a 2-mile valve.”

Of course, some of this reasoning is simply illogical.  Aero helmets are no less safe than regular vented helmets in a crash, and during a TT there is no one “standing around” waiting for you to change your flatted tubular.  (In fact, a flat tubular is faster to change than a flat clincher, if you do it right!)

So I followed up with Phil on this issue, and he cited two reasons for these equipment restrictions:

1. It’s the way things have always been done.
2. Since most collegiate athletes can’t afford fancy gear, we want the technological playing field to remain level.

Of course, reason #1 is fundamentally flawed.  Not only is the fact that something has been happening for a long time NOT proof that it is correct, the UCI (International Cycling Union) has a track record of changing equipment restrictions that have been in place for a long time.  Example: the retroactive changing of the Hour Record equipment rules, invalidating Boardman’s and Obree’s hour records that they set in grotesquely awesome positions with some hideously fast equipment.

Reason #2 is, in theory, a perfectly valid reason for implementing equipment restrictions.  There are few higher priorities in the sport of cycling than encouraging new athletes to compete at a high level.  The cost of TT equipment is a legitimate hurdle that these athletes must overcome to be competitive.  Setting equipment restrictions is a simple and effective way of allowing college athletes to get competitive experience without sacrificing their student loan payments.

However, the current equipment restrictions do not adequately reduce the financial barrier to entry of these cyclists.  The use of TT bikes adds a minimum of $1500 in cost to a collegiate cyclist looking to be competitive.  The use of deep clincher wheels is also another expense, as TT wheels are often deeper, heavier and less practical than the aero wheels used in road and crit racing.

Additionally, some of the equipment banned by the current rule-set makes no sense from a financial standpoint.  Aero helmets are not particularly expensive ($100-$200, about the same as a good set of clip-on aerobars, which are LEGAL under the current rule-set).  Tri-spoke wheels are perhaps the best “bang-for-your-buck” wheelset a college athlete could get.  Tubular wheels are often cheaper than their clincher counterparts, especially when obtained secondhand.  Wheel covers for a training wheel, effectively turning the wheel into a super-aero disc wheel, cost $100, a very reasonable price.  All of these pieces of equipment are banned on the pretense of either safety or convenience, both of which are largely non-factors in time trial racing.

The current equipment restrictions for the Cemetery TT are not appropriate.  They do not keep costs down for college athletes, and include the nonsensical banning of perfectly reasonable equipment.  Additionally, they do not allow those with tons of aero gear the chance to actually use a significant portion of their equipment.

So, what *should* the equipment restrictions be?

Simple.  Ban all aero equipment, period.  Run the TTs in an “Eddy Merckx” style–no aerobars, no deep wheels, no aero helmets, nothing.  Let the college athletes show up on the same road bikes they use for their weekly training rides and duke it out.  Total extra cost: $0.  (Well, maybe clip-on aerobars would be OK.   The expense is reasonable, it’s easy to install/remove them for the TTs and they get the athlete 95% of the way to a full-on TT setup in terms of the total bike/rider aerodynamic package.)

Also, maintain a “best human effort” competitive category as a throwaway.  This would be for the athletes who want to show up with their disc wheels, aero helmets and other aero gadetry.  For many athletes, simply getting a chance to use their aero gear in a competitive setting is half of the run!  (Course records could not be set in this division.  Intra-category records could, of course, be set, but the official course record would have to come from the Eddy Merckx division, just as the current Hour Record does now.)

The collegiate cycling TT equipment rules are scheduled to change next year (for all non-A riders) or the year after (for the A riders).  Aero equipment will be severely restricted.  For college athletes, this is unquestionably a GOOD thing.  It’s time that the Cemetery TT followed suit.