Homecoming race: Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon report

And in one more oddity, I finallly report on my most recent race on the weekend when I don't race.

On one hand, this race was going to be a fun homecoming. I used to live in Cheyenne and I ran and biked on the course all the time. When I ran on the path around Lions Park, I'd look at Sloans Lake and wonder if there could be a race there. When I left I told a couple people I had an idea for a race, and one of them handed me a flier for the "First Annual [sic] Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon." Someone stole my idea, and I couldn't have been happier.

The race involved a 600m swim, a 13-mile bike (though I saw 16 and 14 miles listed as well), and a 5-kilometer run. It also offered a pool swim option, as the municipal pool is near the park; it's easily the most disgusting pool I've ever used (85 degrees, no runoff gutters). While my race would have had a 1-kilometer swim, the 600-meter swim used every bit of the lake so they got that right. The 13-mile bike ran along Bishop Boulevard, which is a frontage road for I-25; again, a road I biked and ran many times. The run was around the block on the other side of the street from the park with a partial lap around the park. If nothing else, my knowledge of the course allowed me to figure out where to change gears on the bike and where to make moves on the run.

So yeah, it could have been a nice welcome-home lap for me, but then it became the Best of the U.S. race for Wyoming; in effect, the Wyoming state championship. This program tries to get the best male and female triathlete from each of the 50 states to a championship race at the end of the year. It's an interesting concept, though I doubt the best triathletes from Wyoming would even be among the top 100 from, say, California. Be that as it may, I thought I had a chance to do some damage because, four years ago, the Loveland Lake-to-Lake was the Wyoming race and I was the third finisher from Wyoming. In advance, I'll say that despite being in better shape now than I was four years ago, I was the sixth-best finisher from Wyoming.

Still, I was positive going into the race despite fighting off a cold. Thursday, Friday and Saturday, I had what felt like a tennis ball-sized knot of phlegm in my throat, too far back to try and hack up. So I drowned myself in water, Gatorade, juice and Pepsi, then did it again. Then I peed about every 60-90 minutes for six days straight. Oddly, my little cold cleared up in time for the race, allowed me to do the race, then came back with a vengeance Monday morning.

In the meantime, I took advantage of my clear airway and hammered through the swim. Or so I thought. Because they started everyone time-trial style (one every 10 seconds), in reverse order of age, I took the most inside line on the buoys I could manage so I wouldn't tangle with anyone. And I kicked and stroked hard. Got out of the water in 10:32 (I stopped my watch when I left the water), which is a minute-and-a-half slower than I thought I'd go. Then, like last week in Loveland, I had to negotiate an interminable run to transition, which was part of the official split. I saw no reason to spike my heart rate so early so I jogged it in.

For once I actually looked forward to the bike ride. It's the one discipline helped by familiarity, and I steamrolled past a whole bunch of people. I spun up a couple of deceptively steep grades, and managed to keep it straight on the downhills. I recognized early on that we had a tailwind on the way out, so I marshaled my energy so I could keep rolling on the way back. Like the previous sprint-distance races I did, I didn't take any water with me, choosing to fuel up before the race and quickly in transition.

Finally, the run, which felt for most of the way like I was sprinting. And yet the split didn't reflect that. I got passed a couple of times by people who started after me, young'uns with those fresh legs and fast twitch muscles. The only people I passed were women who started in front of me, including the chick who was the first Wyoming finisher. I managed to put up something resembling a sprint and crossed the line with little fanfare.

With a 22:42 run split, I was second in my age group. The guy who won my age group was 13 minutes ahead, a guy who I've seen in USA Triathlon's All-American listings on an annual basis. Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't win, but there were some fast dudes there, per usual. I jogged a cooldown and stood in the lake as the rest of the people finished. Later, I got to stand on a real-live podium to get my medal, which always is cool.

Nothing really outstanding to report from this one, other than being absolutely exhausted. Between my cold and being tired from four straight weeks of racing (four in 21 days, to be exact), I blew off two days of training after the race. I came back with 2,500 meters of swimming on Wednesday, then another day off Thursday before throwing down a huge bike weekend. It's nice to not have to bust ass to get somewhere more than an hour away, but I'm back at it July 12 with the big, bad Boulder Peak.

It also was truly great to race on some familiar streets. The Laramie Duathlon was nice because I lived four miles from the start, but I spent some good years in Cheyenne and stormed around some familiar paths. That's been the case all this month, with two other races I've done before and the duathlon in my new hometown — traveling down some familiar roads.

Only now do I realize this whole year is about treading familiar ground. Aside from the North Platte (Neb.) Triathlon, I've done my three remaining top-priority races, eliminating the need for course review.