“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails” ~William Arthur Ward
2020 PlayTri Desert Tri was WINDY. But one of my favorite things about triathlon is no matter how adverse the conditions are, everyone races in them together. We embrace the suck, love the pain, and survive the unpredictable treachery of the course while forming a bond like that of an exclusive secret society; one that with a mere nod of the head or a knowing grin acknowledges those mentally tough enough to swim through 25mph headwind white caps for 500 meters more than planned, or heed the lifeguard’s instruction to go ashore for safety without accepting defeat, and then go on to complete the rest of the race. It’s a bond that most people can’t comprehend but admire from a distance nonetheless.
The swim was rough. As the second wave of athletes started to line up, the wind began gusting so hard that the anchored buoys that mark the course blew across the lake and onto shore at the other end. I, and most of the swimmers around me, did not realize this had happened until we had swum the full length of the lake, well past the turnaround point, and could see the yellow inflatable pyramids we were chasing had been beached. Being an obedient rule follower, I turned and went 50ish yards north as though the course was still marked, before heading back up the middle of the lake into the strong headwind. I took in an even 1:1 ratio of air and water each breath, from the ataxic waves that would appear as I turned to breathe or from the spray the wind blew off of my arm coming out of the water to reach for my next stroke.
The good thing about this swim is that by the time I made it to shore to head toward transition, I was so thankful to be done swimming that I didn’t care how the rest of the day went. It took away any pressure or expectation I put on myself to perform, and by the time I got out on the bike, I surprised myself how good my legs felt and how strong and steady my spin cadence was. I won’t try to compare numbers to last year’s performance because it was a different race. On the bike, the wind was still strong, but I tucked in and tried to slip through it as aerodynamically as possible. On the run, I still felt strong and kept a steady pace; slower than I would normally expect for this distance, but a pace I felt I could double down and hopefully hold close to at Oceanside 70.3.
My tenacity to hold fast and stay strong throughout paid off. I finished atop the podium for the 40-44 age group that I joined this year. And while winning always feels good, I had far more fun celebrating the accomplishments of my friends and strengthening our triathlete bonds.
