Race Result

Racer:	Brady DeHoust
Race:	Reston Triathlon
Date:	Sunday, September 11, 2005
Location:	Reston, VA
Race Type:	Triathlon - International Distance
Age Group:	Male 30 - 34
Time:	2:03:36
Overall Place:	7
Age Group Place:	1
Comment:	S: 26:46, B: 56:04, R: 38:42

Race Report:

It's certainly a different [racing] atmosphere when you show up at an event and see so many familiar faces. It almost feels too comfortable. Gathering early morning feels more like the beginning of another training session with buddies than the normal anxiety packed, port-o-jon after port-o-jon visit tune of any other event. I'll sit at my computer hour-upon-hour anytime at the chance to race with friends and sleep in my own bed the night before.

I felt pretty good going into the race. While Ironman training has kept me feeling strong and confident, it sometimes makes me second guess having the speed to hang on in the short(er) distance races. Any speedwork has come in the form of racing, and this year, even that's been less. On occasion, I'll pick up the pace for 90 seconds a few times during a 50-minute run. Swimming since June has had far less interval work, where success was measured merely on showing up at the pool and getting wet. So, finishing 7th OA and thirty seconds better than the 2004 race felt good.

Swimming 26:46 was like getting a 'B+' when you studied for an 'A' but feared a 'C'. I would've liked to have broken 26, but thought I had just as much capability swimming 27:xx or higher. So, in the end, I was happy with the performance and really had no problems out there. The turn felt like it came much quicker than anticipated, and my effort felt consistent; something I've struggled to find in the first leg of a triathlon. Out of the water, I'm fairly certain that Mike G. videoed most of my pathetic T1 performance. Here was the issue: I had been swimming one time per week in open water, and wearing my old Ironman wetsuit, which has the rear zipper the zips from top-to-bottom (when removing). The wetsuit I wore at Reston was a Desoto two piece, with the zipper from bottom to mid-back for easier removal. Immediately out of the water, I frantically searched for the zipper at the top of my wetsuit, thinking it was the Ironman suit, and it wasn't until I was at my bike that I realized that my zipper was at the bottom. Anyway, I was finally on my way after 1:20. Getting out onto the bike course, I hoped to reduce some of the margin that some of my targets had put on me in the swim.

I managed a good ride out there; I rode hard and steady. I expected to be confined by the coned-lane and frequently shouting "passing" and "on your left", so that didn't bother me much. Turning onto Ridge Heights, I picked off one last rider befor entering T2, but we'd soon meet again .. and again .. and again. I think one thing that becomes mindless when racing a lot is transition. With only two races this year, one of which was IM where transition is a bit different, it was totally mindful for me. T2 looked much different in the light of day than it had in the early dark hours of the morning. I struggled to locate my shoes and didn't know where to exit -- thankfully, the volunteers did.

Within in the first mile, I heard footsteps. Hearing footsteps is not a good sign, especially when they get louder and are accompanied by breathing -- I was getting caught, and caught early by my final victim on the bike course (Tom Shaffer). At first, he passed me and I jumped right on his heels. A few times, Tom would gap me by 10 meters, but I'd fight back and make up ground on the undulations (up and down). We swapped leading a couple times before the turn around. At this point, my race had become a race against Tom and not the others -- some of whom were not too far ahead. I couldn't tell if the dual was making me run harder, or allowing my to stay in a comfort zone where I didn't have the mindset of working harder to catch those who were out of sight. On the return, we continued to swap positions, with neither of us able to break away from the other. Sometimes, we ran nearly touching shoulders on the tight-winding course. With about 1.5 miles to go, we shook hands and said, "May the best man win. This is going to come down to the wire". We turned down to enter the track, and I loathed the pain I was about to experience for the 250 meter track-ending of the run. I took the inside lane and just put my head down. At some point rounding the turn, I heard Tom say, "You've got it". While I had a small sense of relief, I still gassed it with everything I had over the last 50 meters. It was a new experience for me; both to run the entire run neck-and-neck with someone, and to absolutely extinguish the tank, and some, in a final sprint.

At the finish line, I was overwhelmed with the jubilation my sixteen month old son showed. He was clapping and yelling. He knew that something good was going on. He knew people were experiencing good feelings and he seemed totally soaked up in the moment .. hard to believe that a 1.3 year old would understand.