Newcomer Capers
 
The One-Pedaled Triathlon and Other Fine Messes

Chicago Tri Club member Vince Scott shares some valuable lessons he learned during his rookie season—while demonstrating astonishing (some might say peculiar) resilience and fortitude. Look out, Tim DeBoom!

This story actually began in September 2001, at the Lake Geneva Extreme Olympic triathlon. Although I was a lousy swimmer, I had been practicing a lot and figured I could at least finish the swim—with a wetsuit—and then concentrate on the bike and run, my stronger events. The day before the race, I drove the bike and run courses, and I looked at the lake where the swim was to take place. The next morning the race was on and I felt ready, although nervous about the swim. I was relieved to see that it began with a running start—at least I didn’t have to try to tread water waiting for my wave to start. We got the start and away I went, at least for a while. The lake is beautiful when viewed from the shore, but in the water the drop-off and algae-covered bottom made me feel like I was swimming in a closet with the door closed. I was used to seeing lane markers below me, so this murkiness freaked me out. After about two hundred yards of blind terror, I turned around and returned my timing chip.

Vowing not to give up, I practiced the entire winter and spent many hours in the pool. By the spring of 2002, I felt confident that I could complete the Great Sprint Tri in Galena, Illinois. I would not have the chance to test my swimming skills, however: the water was so cold on race day that the swim portion was canceled. Instead, we did a duathlon course, beginning with a two-mile run. The bike portion starts at the lake transition and goes a quarter mile up a gravel road to blacktop. After a reasonable transition to the bike, I biked up the hill, at the top trying to pick up some speed. It was there that I met my second triathlon calamity: a flat tire! I had a spare and attempted to change the tube only to find I was not too good at it. Somehow I managed to poke a hole in the spare tube . . . end of the race.

A month later I was in Warsaw, Indiana, for the Optimist City of Lakes sprint triathlon. Warsaw is a picturesque community about a two and half hour drive from Chicago. I drove down the day before and was up early for the race. Like Geneva, the swim starts from the beach, so again I didn’t have to worry about treading water. But as I hit the water and started swimming, I looked down and thought, “Oh great! I am gliding across the surface of an apparent bottomless pit!” This time, though, I would not let myself give up, no matter how slow my pace. At one point, a girl swam right over the top of me and never broke her stroke. Nevertheless, I continued swimming until I had finished the entire course!

At the transition, I readied myself for the next stage. I was very proud of my new Kestrel tri bike; I had just purchased it a couple of months beforehand to replace my 25-year-old Peugeot. The Kestrel’s lightweight carbon fiber frame—with aerobars—had improved my cycling pace by 5 mph (from 15 to around 20 mph), and I was eager to try it out in a race. Outside the transition, I hopped on the bike and . . . there was no left pedal! I ran back into the transition area, but there was no sign of it. “OK,” I said to myself, “I have just completed my personal nemesis, the swim, and I am not going to let a lack of a pedal stop me.” Thanking God for clip-on shoes, I started to pedal with my right foot. I soon found that if gave a good downward lunge, the momentum helped me to pull up through the rotation. I consoled myself that it was only fourteen miles and I had a chance to finish. And although it was a lot of work using only my right leg, I finished the race! Obviously my time would’ve been better if I’d had two pedals like all the other competitors, but it was my first finish and I was very happy with that.

I happened to look down as I loaded my bike on my car rack after the race: there, in all its polished aluminum glory, was my missing pedal.

Moral: Always check your equipment thoroughly before a race!

Vince has signed up for the 2003 Galena, Tri-Shark, and Chicago triathlons. (He also intends to sign up for Warsaw and is contemplating the Lake Geneva Extreme.) In November 2002, he joined the Evanston Masters Swim Team. He credits this novice-friendly group with helping him improve his swimming skills through coaching and videotaped stroke critiques. Vince also finds motivation from his Lake Shore Drive home’s proximity to the lakefront bike and running paths: the cyclists and runners make him feel guilty if he’s not working out himself!

Drusilla Moorhouse is an avid cyclist, ailurophile, and writer continuing her foray into the world of multisport. You can contact her at
pageproof@aol.com