French Creek Triathlon

This past weekend was my first triathlon of the season, the French Creek Triathlon, directed by none other than my brother, John Kenny (johnkennytri.com).  Anyone who knows my brother knows that he would not make it an easy course.  My time was a full 54 minutes slower than the last time I did an Olympic distance triathlon (which is technically a 1.5k swim, 40k bike, 10k run for any non-triathletes, or a little less than a mile swim, 24.8 mile bike, 6.2 mile run for any non-metric people).  Mostly, the bike took me forever, as it was extremely hilly.  Not only was I slow on the uphills, but I also spent most of the downhills riding the brakes because I am terrified of going over about 30 mph on a bike.  Someone was just telling me about a friend who broke a hip in a bike accident, further adding to my fears.  The only unpleasant thing about the race was cold feet, and I don’t mean that metaphorically. After swimming with a wetsuit but feet exposed in 62 degree water, my feet got even colder on the bike, and by the time I got to the run, it was all pins and needles.  A few miles into the run, they started to warm up.  Although I am proud of competing, I really did not feel sore at all from this race, which means I should be faster.  Basically, I need to 1) start riding my bike more, and 2) start running faster.  I pretty much did a 10k at marathon pace (8 min miles), which is the pace I’ve been training for.  Expect to read about lots of track workouts and hill repeats in future blogs. 

The course was simply amazing.  The area near French Creek State Park is mostly hills, forests, creeks, lakes, and a few open fields.  Sunday was a wonderfully cool but sunny day, just a perfect day to be outside.  It is simply a great location for a race, and I definitely hope to get back there later this summer just to train or just take a hike. 

Really, though, the best thing about this race is the fact that my brother organized everything.  I never thought about how much work it takes to make a race happen:  getting permits from the state park; hiring professionals for traffic control and EMS support; organizing sponsors to provide caps, gels and other goodies; setting up a website and advertising the race; hiring a timer who also supplied equipment such as bike racks, cones, buoys, and signage for the course; tshirts; post-race food; awards; organizing volunteers; and the list goes on.  Most impressively, John handled all of these responsibilities and maintained his typical even-tempered demeanor.  After a negative experience last year where a certain race director used a tone of voice that made me cry, I think that it is so important to keep the stress-level down and project only positive energy towards athletes and volunteers.  After all, races are meant to be fun.  And this one certainly was.  Most of the volunteers were family, my brother’s friends, people from swimming, and generally just a lot of great people.  It was also the first time in a long time that my mom has seen me race, so that was appropriate for Mother’s Day. 

Also, Saturday afternoon, I was at French Creek helping out with the kids race.  After the rain passed, my job during the race was near the bike out/ bike in part of transition, telling kids to mount and dismount.  I didn’t realize how important this job was until I forgot to tell the first kid to dismount his bike and he nearly had a collision riding into transition.  After that, I started jumping out into the road, waving my arms, yelling, “stop, get off your bike!”  So, 4 to 6 year olds doing triathlons are beyond cute.  Some even had training wheels (which I wish I had), but an impressive number could ride a bike at least as well as me.  Also, most of the bigger kids had nicer bikes than mine, and had quite the transitioning skills (legs crossed to dismount the bike).  It was impressive to watch kids compete, and although the distance is shorter (roughly proportional to their age), children fearlessly tackle a challenge that would be daunting to many adults, and most of them made it look fun (except for the occasional kid who was struggling and miserable, but we’ve all been there at some point). 

I used to think of triathletes from the outside as an exclusive clique (especially given how expensive equipment is, and how, statistically, the average triathlete earns a six-figure salary at their day job).   However, especially now, I am beginning to see it more as an inclusive community.  Family, friends, acquaintances you see at races, and strangers all support each other.  And all you have to do to join that community is compete or volunteer.