Race Report: The Aquathling

Saturday was NYCSwim's last edition of the Stars & Stripes Aquathlon – a 1.5K swim followed by a 5K run on Randall's Island. Like a triathlon, but without the only sport I can't do. I've wanted to try this race for years and finally got to overcome the high entry fee with a volunteer credit from last year. Boat observers FTW!

As there was no bike involved I figured there was a decent chance to place in my age group, especially after comparing my recent swim and run times to last year's results. This was the first time I paid any attention to my predicted finish relative to previous results of an event – it helped that the field was on the small side – and I liked having a competitive goal instead of just trying to do well relative to my efforts.

So now for the race report.

Saturday's training schedule required an 18-mile run and a 2000-yard swim, so what better way to warm up for a 5K than an easy 15 miles? Thus my day started a little after 4 a.m. by putting on all of this:

Then I took a trip from my apartment to the Brooklyn Bridge, to the West Side Highway, to Central Park, to a loop of the reservoir, up to 102^nd Street. Finished the run at about 7:30 and arrived on Randall's Island with plenty of time to set up my most minimal transition area ever (sunglasses, race belt, socks, shoes with tri-friendly laces), say hi to some swimming and tri friends, and refuel with chocolate milk and a Larabar while looking at this:

Of course the swimmers' meeting didn't start until I decided I had time for one more pit stop, which basically triggered everyone to start moving toward the meeting area. Anyway I eventually got the swim course straight in my head (after it was reversed at the last minute due to... currents?) and lined up nice and orderly-like in my seeded spot 25^th from the front.

The start was fairly nice. Someone said the temp was 72 but it felt warmer; it was supposedly 72 at Brighton Beach on Friday as well but that water felt much cooler than where we were in the East River. This was good because, unlike in practice, there's no chance to mince one's way into the water so when it's cold the unpleasantness is immediate, offensive, and inevitable.  But Saturday's transition from air to water was fairly painless.

Given that we entered the water in a stream – one at a time – I thought the course would be relatively smooth; I didn't anticipate much running into people or people running into me. However, within the first 20 yards the person who started right after me began swimming into me from my right. Wasn't much I could do, as the first yellow buoy was coming up and I had to keep it to my left (The song in my head to keep track of the buoys was “Yellows to the left of me/Orange to the right, here I am/Stuck in the middle with you.”) and there was a kayaker yelling that I had to go right, so in the end I dropped back to avoid being swum over by Speedypants McWetsuit (because OF COURSE he was wearing a wetsuit).

That was the first of several points where I was surprised at the crowding on the swim course.  There wasn't much that anyone could have done about this, but it did make it hard to find any kind of consistency in my stroke. And it didn't help that I kept trying to bring in different techniques I've been working on in practice but haven't fully incorporated yet. Every time I got into some kind of flow I brushed up against a neoprene-clad limb, or someone molested my feet... But I finally made it around the last buoy and then, as I started kicking harder to get some blood back into my legs, I began getting a little nervous about the next three miles on top of the miles I'd done already. 

(I have quite a love-hate relationship with short, fast races. It's cool to see what I can do and nice to be done quickly, but ye gods, they hurt! and the pain never stops!)

Then, right as I was starting to think about how much time I had before it got too shallow to swim further, some guy started swimming up on my left and angling in on me. Fine. Until some other guy started swimming up on my right and angling in on me. I tried to power through them, but it didn't work, and at that point I couldn't do anything else. Instead I just pulled back a little, stood up, and chuckled while I watched them collide [harmlessly] and scamper out of the water. I decided not to care that they'd more or less cut me off as they were both men and didn't hurt my standing.

I also hate the post-swim run to transition. It's disorienting every single time. At least it was to be a really straightforward transition – slap on belt, shove feet smoothly into powdered socks and elastic-laced shoes, grab sunglasses and dash away. That was the idea until I got to my spot and saw my shoes were tipped over and my glasses, once neatly balanced atop them, had a bent stem and a lens popped out! Some asshat stepped on them! I was kind of upset and started indignantly ranting to no one in particular, until the lovely Bruce Somebody next to me said “Hand them over, I'll fix them and you get dressed.” It worked out marvelously; he was only doing the swim so by that time his race was over and he had the time to help me. When I saw Bruce afterward I told him that he singlehandedly restored the moral karma of the race.

So, sunglasses in place, off I went. It was a pretty unremarkable run. Basically I spent the next 24~ minutes hurting, sometimes less, mostly more.  The course was an out-and-back, so we could see the people who were ahead of us, and after I made the first turn a woman going the other way told me I was the 5^th female from the front. Fortunately number 4 was in my sights and I passed her about six minutes after that – number 3 was nowhere to be seen. I had a good time yelling to people I knew who were going the other direction, which always gives me a helpful little boost too. Weird how that works.

I finished 24 minutes 12 seconds after starting the run and 50 minutes after entering the water. I feel like I owe this girl who was standing about 50 yards before the finish in a shirt that said “Lettuce Turnip the Beets.” I yelled to her that her shirt was really helping me – evidently I'm like a bad-pun energy parasite – and she yelled at me to sprint. I never would have on my own, and I only cut my time by maaaybe two seconds, but anyway I managed it and felt happier afterward because of it.

So that was that. Next followed an hour or so of standing around and eating bagels and talking to people – I'm always surprised how many I end up knowing at races like this – and waiting for the awards in case I got one. My new swim buddy Peter stuck around with me, which was very nice for the disappointment when they announced first place in my age group and it wasn't me, but then it turned out that she'd won swim-only, not the swim/run. Those awards came next. And out of 39 women, I finished 4^th! Almost better, there was a 3-minute gap between 3^rd place and me, so basically I didn't have a chance in hell of catching her on legs with 18 miles on them.  I finished 18th overall, out of 87.

 

'Twas a lovely wee race and I'm bummed it was the last year. But there's always the Coney Island version. Which may tide me over (ha!) until the 2015 version of this 12-miler around Brooklyn...