My first week in Chicago has been quite a trip. I’m all moved in to my new apartment, though unpacking will take me a bit to finish. If I could do it again, I might not make my move a day before the Chicago Triathlon. I had not originially planned to take part in the Chicago Triathlon, but I figured that it would be silly to skip an opportunity to tune up my legs before Hy-Vee, especially with the race in my new back yard.

Chicago started at noon, which was nice because it meant that I could sleep in Sunday morning, then ride my bike to the race site. Unfortunately on this day, it also meant a large storm had moved in by the time we started swimmming. We were dumped on during the race. I normally thrive in those conditions, but for this race I just couldn’t get into high gear. I swam comfortably in the front pack, but didn’t have the ability to move around anyone. I got myself to the front of the pack on the bike, but couldn’t turn it up to stay with Cameron Dye as he pulled away from us. On the run I felt like I waas doing a moderate tempo run, but still couldn’t match the stride of the guys passing me. I finished thee race in 5th, feeling like I had just finished a solid Sunday workout, but certainlly not as though Ihad just raced.

Hunter Kemper won, which puts him in positionn to win the Toyota Cup this year. Stuart Hayes and Greg Bennett filled out the podium, with Cameron finishing just ahead of me in 4th.

After the race Abby and I went to IKEA and bought some storage cabinets for our apartment. The first thing Irealized about our kitchen was that there was no place to store food – something quite important to me! Then she took me out for all-you-can-eat shushi, and I decided Chicago might just be an okay place to call home. Abby is deep into her first month of medical school, which gave me the week to myself, for the most part. I joined the U of Chicago Gym (awesome new pool), set up my indoor cycling room (Hooray for Compuutrainers!) And went explorinig arouund Hyde Park in my running shoes. I also got to play with the new kitten (Tesla) and relearn how to cook for myself. I loved my time at the Olympic Training Center, but it made me soft! I forgot what it’s like to live in the real world!

Next up is Hy-Vee on Sunday. I’m pretty excited. Hopefully Ican get myself kickin’ in high gear after a little rest. I’ll leave you with a conversation I haerd at the pool that I find hilarious:

1st Guy: “You can’t imagine eating another human, but certainly you would if the conditions forced it.”

2nd Guy: “Well, yeah, of course I would.”

1st Guy: “So you may think 10 lengths of the pool sounds impossible, but if the conditionns forced it you could make yourself do it.”

2nd Guy: “No way. Never.”

–Please excuse typoos, as I posted this from a mobile without the luxury of spell check.

I just met the President of the United States of America! No, I wasn’t at a rally. I wasn’t being recognized for an award either. I was drenched in sweat, wearing old ratty workout clothes and looking like I needed a shower. My girlfriend wouldn’t have wanted to touch me in that state, but Barrack Obama shook my hand and offered to take a group picture with us.

It was a tough day of training. I went out for some long interval work with Greg Billington and John Copsey. On the way home we rode by the airport and saw Air Force One on the tarmac, reminding us the President Obama was speaking in town for a rally at Colorado College. We rode home, and I decided to delay my run because my hip was bothering me and I wanted to let it loosen up before I hit the treadmill. And the only reason I was running on the treadmill was in case my hip hurt enough to make me stop early. Once I did make it to the treadmill I felt great, and ran twice what was on my schedule. I felt so good I decided to do some core work before leaving the gym, and by the time I tried to leave there were two men in black suits standing at the door keeping everyone inside.

“The President is coming through, you need to stay inside until we give you the okay.” The Secret Service guy told us. So we all crowded by the window hoping to get a glance of Obama as he walked by. But right before we could see anything the guy tells us, “Okay, all of you back into the gym.” And we all hang our heads, bummed that we won’t get to see the president.

Back in the gym, nobody was working out anymore. We were all peering out the door into the entryway hoping to see a glimpse of the President. Then quite suddenly the doors burst open, and five or six Secret Service officers come through followed by Barrack Obama himself, then another batch of Secret Service and 30-or-so media people with cameras.

He walked into the gym and one by one he shook hands with each of us, asked our name and sport, and made brief small talk with each of us. To me he said, “You must be a little bit crazy to do triathlon. That’s a lot of work. It must take a little bit of crazy.”

Of course, I was in shock, and basically just smiled and nodded. I wish I had known I was about to meet the president, I think I could have been wittier.

With two weeks left before I move out of the Olympic Training Center, this adds one more incredible experience to over two-and-a-half years of amazing experiences as a resident of the OTC. And what a surprise! I never expected to meet the president. Certainly not while covered in sweat and wearing gym clothes, and if not for a sore hip and some procrastination I would have missed it entirely.

Wow! This year’s New York City Triathlon kicked my butt! I came in second to Jordan Jones, who had a breakthrough performance and crushed the field. This is my seventh podium for 2012! I’m still looking to have one of those outstanding races, but I’m really happy with how consistent my performances have been this year.

The river this year was moving really fast. We finished the swim portion in about 11 minutes. Normally I’m not too excited about short swims, but the Hudson River is a little nasty so nobody is asking to go back in. Getting onto West Side Highway for the run I was able to drop the rest of the lead pack. I thought I was doing well until about 25km into the 40km bike course. My legs started talking back. I hit a wall and the fuses just blew. Jordan Jones caught me at 30km and I had no gas to try to hang with him. I finished the bike 45 seconds down hoping I could catch back on in the run.

Now, Jordan Jones isn’t a huge name yet in Triathlon, but he’s a former Division I runner who is learning quickly how to ride a bike as well as anyone. I held the gap for the first 4 miles of the run, but couldn’t close any time. I hit the last hill in Central Park with a big gap over 3rd and my legs finally gave in. I cruised it in as quickly as I could, but was solidly in second with jello for legs. My splits were comparable to last year’s if you take out the faster swim. I was 20 seconds faster on the bike than a year ago, and just 10 seconds off the former bike course record. Jones had the fastest bike split that’s ever been posted on this course by 90 seconds. My run was 30 seconds slower than last year’s, and Jones managed to run a minute faster than me by the end. So my race was solid, but I have some work to do before I see Jones again!

The Philadelphia Insurance Triathlon is another awesome race that I only just discovered this year. Part of the Race To The Toyota Cup, Philly brought a solid pro field, and had the organization to back up a race of this caliber.

[Left: I had my cheering section of one, but Abby made up for lack of numbers with an awesome outfit]

The swim was in a river, but the current wasn’t very strong, so it didn’t distort the results (by making the swim longer or shorter than normal). The bike two laps with a nice mix of hilly, technical and flat, but also brought us past the Philadelphia Art Museum for that landmark background that photographers enjoy. The run was flat, but had us running past transition at the 5km mark, so the spectators could see us a few times.

I swam with the leaders, and was first out of T1. I rode hard, but Cameron Dye sailed past me on the first big hill and I couldn’t hang. After that I rode alone, coming off the bike with a big deficit to Dye, and a small advantage over Andy Potts. On the run I felt like I was really going fast, but Dye’s lead just wouldn’t give, and Potts was closing in. At 4 miles in Potts passed me and after trying to hang I found myself in 3rd by a small margin crossing the finish line.

Dye and Potts did a great job, and while I wish I could have had a super performance on the bike – like I did in Austin – I am pretty happy with a podium finish against a top-notch field. Next up is 5150 NYC in two weeks, and there’s plenty more racing left this year. Plus, I’m still the series leader in the Lifetime Fitness Race To The Toyota Cup with 26 points to Dye’s 24.5 points. Minneapolis will be the next race in the series.

This year the CapTex Triathlon was another bundle of joy. I was 3rd after being given another poorly delivered penalty – this time for a rule that does not appear in the official rules. On the bright side, the organizers of the race stepped it up from last year, and did a really great job with the setup and execution. The officials, on the other hand, did better than 2011 (when they allowed a police boat to misdirect the entire pro field), but not by much.

Prior to the race I was having trouble with tuning my rear derailleur, and by the time the volunteer from Mellow Jonny’s got it working I had just 3 minutes to set up my space in transition. The rack was set up so that all the bikes were alternating, but my number was set up so that I didn’t alternate and was instead on the same side of the rack as the two people next to me. It didn’t make sense for me to move their stuff to the side (without me there both people had used my space for their setup), so I racked my bike to the opposite side where there was plenty of space. This didn’t affect anyone else’s bike (though it did allow the two people next to me to have more space) and it didn’t give me any advantage other than that by racking opposite from my number I was able to have the same amount of space as the people next to me.

As I was leaving transition an official was walking through transition and I heard her mention that there were several people racked the wrong way and that they would need to move those bikes. Now, I’ve never heard of officials moving people’s stuff in transition, but it sounds like a really bad idea. I had also moved my number to face the same direction as my bike so that I would be able to find my transition space in T2, but I figured I should say something. (Big mistake). I explained why I had racked my bike that way and why it made sense, the official told me we needed to speak to someone higher up, I told her to please find that person and explain my reasoning, and then I went to look for the head USAT official (who I had just finished speaking with regarding my disappointment in receiving a 30 second penalty the previous week, that took 45 seconds because the official didn’t know what he was doing.) I couldn’t find him, and it was now time to focus on racing. I talked to a race organizer and explained the situation, asking to please speak to someone because I did not think it would be fare for our bikes to be moved without letting us know. My feeling was that if the bikes were racked wrong that needed to be addressed while all the athletes were still in transition with time to change things. Not two minutes after transition had officially closed when I was the only athlete left in transition and was being told to leave.

The race started on time and I forgot about my transition situation. The swim was fast, thanks to Dustin McClarty, but I came out with the leaders and was in great position heading into T1. At my bike, however, I was met by an official who told me I had a 60 second stand-down penalty. I immediately stood still with my feet on the ground, but he didn’t start the timer. A video taken by a spectator shows that the it took the official 15 seconds to tell me that I needed to stand over by the fence and a few more seconds for him to follow me over there and actually start the timer. Watching that video, I’m impressed that I stayed relatively cool headed despite the frustration of the situation. The entire “60-second” penalty took over 75 seconds, which is disappointing considering the conversations that had just taken place between myself and the head USAT official the during the week leading up to this race.

Once I got onto my bike my anger showed. I rode hard and never backed down. By the end of the 3rd lap I had caught and passed everyone except Cameron Dye, and I managed to close my deficit to him to about 40 seconds. Andy Potts and Hunter Kemper started the run about 35 seconds behind me, but by 5km into the run Hunter had passed me and Andy was right with me. I passed Cam and put distance into him quickly, but I couldn’t stay with Potts. I finished in 3rd, 58 seconds behind the winner, Hunter Kemper.

Now, here’s what’s wrong with this system. I was not the only person to flip my bike around in T1, and like me the other people did it because the racks had a few places where the numbers had clearly been placed the wrong direction. I was the only one,however, to receive a penalty, and it is because I tried to do something to make sure that the situation was treated fairly (flipping my bike after talking to the official would have meant moving another athlete’s equipment without their permission, which feels wrong). Had I not been in T1 at the last minute when the officials were scheming I wouldn’t have been penalized for raising my concerns. Further, there’s no rule written for racking your bike the opposite direction from the number, and nowhere is a 60-second penalty described as the punishment for violating that unwritten rule. I was sighted for “moving my transition” or something to that affect and was told that what I did was the same as if I had set up my bike against a tree outside of the transition area. I disagree, but unfortunately USAT has set up their system so that the official who observes a rule violation also judges, sentences and executes that athlete. They do it immediately and they do it without any debate. Since penalties are given at the moment of violation (or as soon as they can reasonably give a penalty) there is no recourse for athletes. USAT doesn’t allow for athletes to protest a penalty, which is unfortunate because the officials on the course are often poorly trained, less knowledgeable than the athlete about the rules, and there is a great deal of inconsistency in how and when penalties are given.

An example from NYC Triathlon this year: A Puerto Rican athlete was given a littering penalty when his sunglasses fell off his bike. After standing down for 60 seconds he continued to ride. The official came up to him again shortly after that and told him he needed to go back for his sunglasses. Now, it is against the rules to make backward progress on the course (reasonably so, with athletes going 30mph on their bikes you don’t want any of them trying to ride against the flow, it’s dangerous!), so he told her he couldn’t do that. The official then gave him a penalty for abandoning equipment and with his second penalty he was disqualified. With no ability to protest, and no recourse at all, this athlete is destined to return to Puerto Rico having been wronged, dealt two penalties for one misfortune (like he really meant to lose his sunglasses!), and having lost all the money he invested in coming to NYC for a race. The professionals are trying to act professionally, so why are some of our officials not living up to that standard? Shouldn’t penalties be given for violations that affect the outcome of a race (i.e. drafting, intentional littering, cutting buoys) rather than for non-staggered position from 200 meters back on an uphill, losing a water bottle on a pothole, or placing a bike in a way that makes transition safer and less cluttered for everyone?

Well, the night before my next race seems like as good a time as any to reflect on my last race. Seven days ago I raced the Columbia Triathlon in Maryland. It was the most challenging triathlon course I’ve ever done, which made for an interesting race. The field, which normally stays relatively close when the quality of the field is high, blew apart after exiting the water. The swim was an easy lake swim, but the first transition was a steep climb uphill and onto the highway. There was an immediate hill after starting the bike, and then the road kept rolling upwards for the first 5 miles of the course. After that the undulations became greater and greater, like a wooden rollercoaster at the carnival, we whipped up, down, and around the countryside. Several times during the race I mumbled obscenities to myself, I was so shocked by just how much harder the race was than expected.

I started off strong on the bike, but Cameron Dye was stronger. I had him in my sights for about 5 miles, but then he was gone. About the time I lost sight of him Andrew Yoder caught me and blew by. It was everything my legs could do to keep him in sight on the straight-aways, but around the 20k half-way mark I got pulled over for a stagger penalty. Andrew was way up the road, far enough that I could only see him on the climbs. He was using the full road to take the fastest lines possible through the turns . According to the rules I have to be staggered off the next person in front of me, no matter how far up the road that person may be. I was having trouble keeping track of what part of the road he was on because he was far enough ahead, I also had Jimmy Seear riding a bike length back on the other side of the road, making it pretty hard for me to change sides. Since the road was windy, and the stagger rule doesn’t apply on windy sections (I thought) I just stuck to the yellow line and only looked far enough ahead to navigate – not all the way up to Andrew. The ref told me that I had been in direct line with Andrew for 8 seconds and that would be a penalty. So I stood down, took my penalty, thanked the ref for waiting until the top of a hill to pull me over, then went on my way. A couple miles later I caught Jimmy as he was finishing a penalty for the exact same violation off Andrew. I guess triathlon and basketball are alike in some ways, you can apparently ride in such a way that the people behind you are unable to follow the rules. You can give your competitors fouls, much like the “flop” in basketball. I will remember this for the next time I have people who are actually drafting behind me, and I’ll remember it also when the refs don’t call penalties on similar situations, like the solo athlete sitting right behind Cameron and me at St. Anthony’s.

Moving on. I came into T2 WAY back from Cameron Dye. Over three minutes. Even without the penalty, Cameron spanked me by more than I could possibly have made up on the run. I started running right in front of Jimmy, but opened a gap in the first mile. Up ahead was Yoder, but the course was twisty and I had no idea how far. I think he was about 2 minutes ahead starting the run.
The run course was even harder than the bike. I had ridden only the first mile and last mile of the run, and thought that it was a little hilly, but tolerable. Wrong. There were some really big hills, and really big descents. There were a few flat sections, but they were short and seldom. Mostly we were going straight up or straight down. I crossed the finish line in 3rd, 18 seconds behind Yoder, and still over two minutes behind Cameron Dye. It was a really hard race. I think I said that about ten times after the race, and again every time anyone asked for my opinion. I loved it, but in a painful sort of way. I think I’ll be back again next year. Especially if I can have the same homestay. She was amazing!

It’s one week until Olympic Trials in San Diego. If you’re paying attention, you may have noticed that I’m not on the start list. A lot of people are paying attention, so I figured I would post a quick explanation of what’s going on, how the situation came to be, and what I hope to happen in the next week that will ensure I get to start the race.

Prior to the release of the San Diego start list, I was operating under the assumption that the International Triathlon Union (ITU) would be creating the start list according to the 2011 World Championship Series results. Under this method they would take the top 30 athletes interested in racing in San Diego according to their ranking on the WCS results from 2011. This was the assumption that I made based on information received from USA Triathlon, as well as the fact that the ITU website listed the 2011 rankings as their most current WCS rankings. The start list for these races is filled by taking the first 30 from the WCS rankings, then filling the remainder from the ITU points list, which is a point ranking that reflects all ITU races and extends from year to year. Last year I did very few races that contribute to the WCS ranking, so I was always planning to get in as one of the 40 athletes selected from the ITU points list. I raced early in the year and got my ranking up to the 40′s. This, I felt was high enough to ensure a start in San Diego so I stopped racing and focused on training. USAT seemed to be thinking along the same lines and they affirmed my decision. By the time the start list was created my rank had slipped ot the 60′s, but with 70 athletes on the start line and not all of the top 70 athletes in the world asking for a start it seemed safe that I would get in.

Wrong.

Instead of using the 2011 WCS rankings, the ITU chose to use the 2012 rankings. How can they use a ranking from a series that hasn’t started? Well, last year there was a race in Yokohama, Japan, which was postponed because of the tsunami. It was held a week or two after the World Championships in Beijing and at the last minute they decided to count the points toward the 2012 series, instead of putting them into the 2011 series post-finale. Now, the issue with that is that many of the top athletes didn’t race in Yokohama. Some were protesting holding a race in questionable waters, but most were just done racing after Beijing because they were ranked high enough not to need to race anymore. So while the top 30 on the ITU points list is almost identical to the top 30 on the 2011 WCS rankings, The top 30 finishers in Yokohama are very different from the top 30 on the points list.

What all that means is that instead of getting in as the first 30 from the WCS rankings, the top athletes in San Diego got in as the next 40, off the ITU Points list. The WCS Rankings drew in some athletes with very low ITU Points List rankings (as high as 180th). So the athletes chosen for San Diego were very different than expected, and the easiest way to get in would have been to race in Yokohama. It turns out I wouldn’t have even needed a very good result in Yokohama to get in to San Diego because not all of the top 30 finishers in Yokohama signed up for San Diego. Regardless, I was injured at that time, so I couldn’t have raced had I known they were going to use the race as the primary qualifier for San Diego.

Knowing that Yokohama was being used as the primary qualifier for San Diego would have changed my approach this spring, however. I could have race another continental cup and had my ITU Points LIst ranking back in the 30′s or 40′s at the time the list was created. It would have been pretty actually. I already have a Brazilian Visa and there were two races in Brazil after I got back from Mooloolaba.

Instead, I found myself in 10th on the wait list when the start list was created. As of Friday, I’m 4th on the wait list. Greg Billington is 1st on the wait list which means when I roll on I’ll be the eighth and final American.

Notice I say “when”. It’s only a week out, but I’m planning to race. I’m in San Diego now, I’m ready to race and when four people on that start list drop out – for whatever reason – I’ll be ready to go. The meeting is Wednesday, if anyone is missing, I’ll be there to take their spot. Hopefully the list rolls a bit more after this weekend. I’d like to know for sure that I’m racing as soon as possible, but I’m confident that it will move and I will get to race. So confident that I’ve invited a posse of friends and family to come watch. I don’t intend to have the biggest cheering section at the event without someone to cheer for.

This was my second year racing in the Saint Anthony’s Triathlon, which is held in St. Petersburg, Florida. Last year I entered at the eleventh hour because I happened to be in the mood to race that week. I was so impressed by the organization and presentation of the event that I committed to racing again this year immediately.

I love taking part in well run events. That’s why I keep going back to races like Nautica South Beach, New York City, Hy-Vee and any race that Bill Burke directs. St. Anthony’s Triathlon is that caliber of event, and as such it will be a part of my race schedule for years to come.

This year there were 49 pro men racing, including legends like Greg Bennett, Courtney Atkinson, Bevan Docherty, and Matt Reed, plus rising starts like Josh Amberger, Cameron Dye, and Kaleb VanOrt. The race was legitimately a world class field – far beyond the draw of talent that we normally see in a race that doesn’t help qualify for the Olympics.

Despite the intimidating start list, I came to Florida with this crazy idea that maybe I could put my name on select group of previous winners. That list, which goes back to 1984, includes names like Mike Pigg, Andy Potts, Hunter Kemper, Greg Welsh, and Matt Reed. Judging by the people have won this race, there has never been a cherry pick year. I wasn’t putting any expectations on myself, but I figured that a good race would force anyone that wanted the title from me to really work for it.

I came up 9 seconds short. That makes it seem like I could have changed a few little things and made the difference, but that would be false. I left everything I had out on the course. I had an exceptional race and there weren’t mistakes that would have made any difference in the outcome. I raced well. I raced with everything that I brought to Florida and that in itself is a victory of sorts, regardless of finish place.

The swim course was changed from previous years after a 3 year stint of weather cancellations and deaths among participants. I never had a chance to swim the old course, but the new one is not bad. We start down the beach in a deep water start, which is less desirable to a pontoon start, but better than a shallow beach start. The shallow start gives a huge advantage to the runners and people with long legs (not me). The deep water start gives the advantage to the swimmers, but tends to be difficult for the race directors to officiate. We line up between two buoys, but since we don’t really know when the gun is going off everyone is trying to tread water and keep their body’s horizontal. This inevitably has the entire field moving forward slowly and after a short time the line of men has moved well beyond the buoys. The race is still fair – everyone moves forward and nobody is silly enough to sit back while everyone around him is inching forward – but with a two or three minute delay we’ve unintentionally taken 50 meters off the swim course.

Once the gun finally did go off I found myself quickly in third position on the feet of Cameron Dye. Cam had intelligently started near Josh Amberger and was on his feet from the gun. I had somehow spaced on Amberger’s presence or I would have done the same. Josh is the guy that won all the swim primes at Hy-Vee last year and beat Cam, Potts, and myself out of the water by 50 seconds. I started to fade about 600 meters in and was glad when 2 guys came around, allowing me to enjoy a bit more draft. That straight 600-meter portion was parallel to the shore in a protected channel, it was followed by a 90 degree left turn away from shore that took us into the wind and chop of the open waters. The waves were rolling in at a cadence that really didn’t mesh with my natural stroke rate. I was being thrown onto the other swimmers around me, one second I was on a guys feet, the next he was 5 feet to one side, or in front of me, or behind me. It was brilliantly fun! I love a challenging swim and this was just enough chaos to make things interesting.

The pace didn’t slow, but I could tell that people were tiring in the chop. Josh and Cam were only holding a few meters gap ahead, but we weren’t closing it. We made two right turns and headed back to shore as one big group with only a small time gap from first person to last, and all the contenders were there.

Mounting our bikes it was Cam leading the group. I was fourth of fifth, but right in position. Now, Cam was in form today and his bike ride took off from the line. I had hoped to take the lead, but it was not mine to be had. Everything I had to put into my pedals could only get me up to Cam’s side – he never relinquished control of the race. It was obvious to me who was in charge and there was nothing I could do to change it. I was forced to contend with staggering to the opposite side of the road, giving Cam first choice of the best line, and pedaling for all I was worth to stay with him.

Right behind us, Josh Amberger was tenaciously hanging with us. He was in great position and – unlike me – he never once tried to pull to the front. He sat in 3rd and took full advantage of the flaws inherent to the drafting rules. He wasn’t breaking any rules – I know this because we had an official on a motorcycle riding right behind us the entire 40 kilometers. But there is a still a big advantage to being in the back of a group of three or more when the race follows USAT’s stagger rules. The jockeying for position in front of that person forces them to shift lines left to right and back. Every time that happens, the person in back goes through the draft zone. And if that person is staggered, but not very far back, they can be frequently passing through the draft zone of someone only a few meters (or less) in front of them.

Behind us was a group much larger than our own, and the larger the group the more this flow in the rules allows for drafting. With more people, there’s more changing of positions, more moving in and out of draft zones. I’ve been in groups like that, it’s much much easier in the back. So much so that the people who like to ride in the back will more likely coast to maintain their position in the back than risk facing the wind in the front.

So I’m definitely not suggesting that anyone was cheating, just that the way the rules are enforced, a start list of 49 guys allows a lot of people to take advantage of drafting without risk of penalty.

The three of us, Cam, Josh and myself, had over a minute on the next pack heading into T2. I took the bike prime, but only because both the other guys beat me out of T1. There’s no way I would have ridden that hard without Cam pushing me the entire way.

Now, I’ve been hearing rumors about how Josh has been training really well over the winter, and I knew he would be a bigger factor than in our previous match-ups. I also knew that Cam has been working hard on his run and that it’s been coming around. But I was sincerely floored when my surge on the run was not just matched, but countered by both Josh and Cam, in series, and that their counters left me 10 seconds behind at the first mile marker. Those guys were running really well! By two miles I was 15 seconds behind Cam and 25 or 30 behind Josh. Then I started inching back. By 5k I had caught up to Cam, and set my sights on Josh. With the turnaround at half way I also got to see that Filip Ospaly was closing the gap quickly with Tim O’Donnell right behind him. I did everything I could to pick it up, but my fourth mile was my slowest. I needed a second wind. At mile 4 I started pulling Josh back to me again and at just before the fifth mile I finally caught him. Just then, I heard footsteps and knew I’d been caught. Ospaly passed me right as I passed Josh. I went from second to second, but with Tim only a short ways back I knew I had to try to hang on. My last mile was my fastest, and I needed every second of speed. I crossed the line less than 10 seconds behind Ospaly, but TO was just 4 seconds behind me. It was a really close race!

Josh in fourth, with Cameron hanging on for fifth. Nobody had an easy time at this race. It was fun, but it was also one of the hardest races I’ve done. Start to finish I was going full tilt. So, second place is good! I have no regrets. I raced my heart out.

Next up is Olympic Trials in San Diego. I’m still on the wait list to get in, but hopefully that will change in the next day or two as we pass the deadline to drop out without penalty.

I went back to South Beach for the 4th time this year. I really like the Nautica South Beach Triathlon, which is why I’ve raced there all but one of the five years it’s been held. This year was a bit of last minute planning. I raced in the Mooloolaba World Cup the last weekend in March, giving me only a week between races that are completely around the world from each other. In 2009 I did the same double, so I knew going into it how much it would suck. Still, with about a week to go before South Beach I just couldn’t justify to myself not going to such a great race and I bought tickets. This time, instead of flying straight from Australia to Florida, I went back to the OTC in Colorado for four days, then flew to Miami two days before the race. That was a better plan than spending a full week trying to train in metropolitan Miami.

The race conditions were perfect. The off-shore breeze provided for flat, clear water like I’ve never seen in Miami. And since we started before the sun came over the horizon it was still rather cool during the race (though seriously humid). I felt flat on the swim and was suffering just to stay on Cameron Dye’s feet. Meanwhile, Javier Gomez (this guy has been ITU World Champion how many times!?) and Dustin McClarty (taker of swim primes) were out of the water 40 seconds ahead of us. On the bike I didn’t know what to expect. I just rode hard. In five minutes I caught Gomez and McClarty, though Bevan Docherty (who just ran down Lance Armstrong at the Panama 70.3) and Cameron Dye (who won this race last year) were right with me. I went to the lead and just kept hammering without ever looking back. At 20k I had 20second advantage over Gomez and Dye, and by the end of the bike I was a little over a minute ahead.  I split a personal best 51:14, though the course may have been half a Kilo short according to my Garmin. I had a good lead starting the run, but – like in the swim – I felt flat. I was hoping to run somewhere in the 32-minute range, but I ended up just over 34. Javier passed me at the 3-mile mark and there was nothing I could do to hang with him. Docherty and Dye were still a ways back, but it didn’t ease my fears. I kept the run hard and finished 2nd. Docherty passed Dye in the final Kilo for 3rd and 4th finishes, respectively.

It was pretty cool to be on the podium with Javier Gomez. He’s a legend. Or he will be. Probably the first true sub-30-minute triathlete, plus he’s one of the best swimmers in the sport and can certainly hold his own on the bike. And even more rare, he’s a humble guy that respects other athletes and carries a truly professional image.

Oh yeah, and Mr. Tanner was handing out awards. I had a million questions for him, but none were appropriate or short enough for that setting.

I won. The race course was completely new for 2012. It was in a place called the Asia Country Club, which is a golf course with condos in the middle of a moonscape of sand dunes 100km south of Lima.

The start line was about 100m from the edge of the water and it was one of those beach swims where it doesn’t get deep for a long time. The first buoy was way to the right and I started on the far left side of the line. So, I let everyone else run straight into a set coming in and I ran down the beach to the right behind them to enter the water in a channel where all the water from the set was pushing out. I was the last one in the water but was right in front once I got past the waves. I led the swim but just missed a wave on the way in. I ended up exiting behind a few people on the run out. I passed them all in T1, which was an 800m run. It was such a long T1 that they gave us boxes by the beach where we could leave our wetsuits so we wouldn’t have to run with them in the heat. That was nice. (Speaking of wetsuits, a brief shoutout to the designers at Blue Seventy, I was really impressed with the new Helix. It’s the first time I don’t feel like I need to adjust how I hold my body to accommodate for the extra buoyancy. Good job guys, that’s suit’s fast!)

I was first onto the bike and thought the guys with me would be motivated to push hard since the group was really strung out behind us. I thought at most we would have 5 guys if we hit if from the line, but the crew was unmotivated. They seemed more interested in waiting to see what other people did than to determine the race themselves. I got pissed. After a couple hard pulls it was clear that nobody wanted to make a race of it. We climbed the hill for the first time, which came about 2-2.5k into the lap. The hill was ~15% for 200m, then a false flat upwards for another 300m, then a technical descent with 4 hairpins then a hard left right into transition.

I love descending.

I stayed 3rd wheel up the climb then put it in the big ring on the false flat and put some elbow grease into the pedals. I sailed past the front of the group. Nobody was interested in my suicide mission. I wanted somebody to go with me, but they just acted like I was being dumb. (Not saying they were wrong, but haven’t you ever heard of dumb luck?) I got to the top of the descent with <5 seconds on the group and had 20 by the time I went through transition at the bottom of the hill.

2nd lap: The wind was killer for the flat section and I was pissed that nobody was with me. I tried to get as small as I could, but the officials had asked me to remove my mini-TT bars because they were too long (my own fault, I was trying to get away with more bar than is legal). I just perched on the bars, it worked well enough. The hill the second time was manageably painful.

The third time hurt. A lot. But somehow on the 3rd lap I turned my lead from 40s into 1:30.

(Thanks to Allen George, an American living in Lima who did his first Olympic Triathlon the morning before my race. He and his family cheered me on and captured a bunch of great pictures like this one where I’m starting my second climb, still in site of the peloton.)

4th lap I was sure I was popped. The kind of popped you don’t come back from. Like I was going to be walking my bike up the next hill – popped. It was hot… I really didn’t feel fit coming to this race… It hurt… wahwahwah… The nice mental boost was looking at my Edge 800 Garmin that was auto-lapping every time I went through transition. My fourth lap was roughly that same time as the first three. Fifth lap was a bit slower. Sixth was back on target and I had well over three minutes starting the 7th and final lap.  I was in survival mode. I lost a good amount of time on the final round, but still had about 2 and a half minutes over the field starting the run.

I felt completely blown. If I were a betting man, I would have said that I wouldn’t have held on. I had that bad pop song in my head, "You can go HARD or you can go HOME!!" you know the one? it just repeats that line over and over again. It’s pretty bad, but I felt like I’d put it on the line and was about to fall off the ledge. I went hard, right then, I just wanted to go home. Seriously, I was not optimistic. But then suddenly I was 5k in and I still had a lot of time and, better yet, the guys behind me had pretty much stopped gaining time on me. Or they weren’t gaining much anymore. I was lapping people left and right as well, which is always a confidence boost.

I got my head back in the game and thought, "Okay, just hold it together for 5k. Relax, run, nobody can run 5k 90 seconds faster than you." Well, maybe somebody can, but those were my thoughts at the time. I just stayed steady until about 500m to go. I knew I had it locked up so I slowed, started celebrating in the finish shoot, did a round of high fives, walked up to the line and did a BOOYAH. I raced with a lot of emotion and when I crossed that line I felt like I’d proven something. I’m not sure what it is, or to who, but that’s how I felt. I dropped to my knees like I did in NYC, only this time it was by choice. I dropped to my knees, put my head to the sky and shouted, "YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!" Then I threw the banner down, got up, did my interview and hopped on the massage table.

Man it feels good to win.

I would talk more about the other guys in the race, I just didn’t see much of what went on. (The graph to the right helps) I know that Bowden from the UK was running with Taccone and Nogueras from Argentina. I watched them carefully on the run because they cut a huge amount of time out of my lead in the first 2k. The Argentines took 2nd and 3rd in the end. Pretty impressive running by those guys so far this year.

And yes, it’s back, my graphing of races. I wish I had lap splits, it would make this much more interesting. For those who haven’t seen these graphs before, the x-axis is the race winner, the y-axis is the time difference from the winner. Points below the x-axis are a time deficit. Each line represents an athlete, so at each point on the line the displacement from the x-axis is that athletes time difference from the leader at that point in the race. As you can see, the group was about 2:45 starting the run. The positive sloped lines over the run course are of the people who out ran me, the negative slopes are people who did not.